Dark Illusion: A Psychological Thriller Novel

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Dark Illusion: A Psychological Thriller Novel Page 1

by Moison, Dana V.




  Dark Illusion

  By Dana V. Moison

  Dark Illusion

  Dana V. Moison

  No Content may be copied, distributed, published

  or used in any way, in whole or in part, without prior written

  agreement from the book author and Kindle Direct Publishing.

  Copyright (c) 2015 Dana V. Moison

  All Rights Reserved

  Dedicated to my dear mother, with great love.

  You are a true model of inspiration.

  Table Of Contents

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 45

  CHAPTER 46

  CHAPTER 47

  CHAPTER 48

  CHAPTER 49

  CHAPTER 50

  CHAPTER 51

  CHAPTER 52

  CHAPTER 53

  CHAPTER 54

  CHAPTER 55

  CHAPTER 56

  CHAPTER 57

  CHAPTER 58

  CHAPTER 59

  CHAPTER 60

  CHAPTER 61

  CHAPTER 62

  EPILOGUE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  PROLOGUE

  April 24, 1990

  She could not take it anymore. The distorted figure looked at her from every angle, from every corner. She felt her throat constrict.

  She had to do something.

  She slammed her body up against the walls, spinning around in ecstasy, smashing the mirrors around her, feeling fresh cuts form on her skin and drops of blood begin to spill. The pain was cathartic.

  She struck her head a third time. She could no longer stand up. She fell to the floor and her eyes closed. A sense of relief washed over her, a victorious smile spreading across her face. Now she was ready to open her eyes and enjoy the sweet darkness that encompassed her. No one would ridicule her anymore. No one could see her.

  CHAPTER 1

  What a cliché. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen was, in fact, a real-life supermodel.

  Even as a young photographer, Andy Swain was rarely dazzled by the models posing in front of his camera lens. He did not perceive himself to be one who could be blinded by appearances, but this time his eyes were uncontrollably drawn, like a magnet.

  How the mighty have fallen.

  Andy accepted a glass of bubbly from one of the myriad waiters shifting through the crowd. Everyone who was anyone in the fashion industry was here. He looked away but his eyes kept returning to her, again and again.

  She really is something, he thought to himself. Her body was shaped like an hourglass and her facial features were striking, as if drawn by a painter. She had an enviable agelessness to her, ironically enhanced by the few tiny lines that her smile had rendered. Her eyes, a glistening deep blue, combined with her lustrous dark hair, provided a stunning contrast to her porcelain skin.

  Andy had heard other photographers swear that she was, indeed, the most beautiful woman on earth. “Great legends require great exaggerations,” he would reply, wryly. Now, however, a few steps away from the global icon that was Gloria McIntyre, he realized how wrong he had been.

  I’m lucky I don’t have my hat. Otherwise I’d be forced to eat it.

  She looked bored, as if she’d rather be someplace else. She wasn’t speaking with anyone. Andy moved closer, emboldened by what he knew he had to say to her.

  Eventually he approached her, but found himself suddenly lost for words.

  “You are just . . .” Andy let his voice linger. That was not how he wanted to make his first move. He didn’t want to gush over her like one of those guys. He never thought he would. He wasn’t the kind of man who had trouble finding the right words around beautiful women.

  Well, there’s a first time for everything.

  “. . . I mean, you are a very impressive woman indeed. I wanted to–“

  “Thanks,” Gloria nonchalantly interrupted him. She had heard proclamations such as this many times before.

  At first she didn’t notice the young man standing in front of her, but when she glanced at him again, she could hardly take her eyes off of him. He was so handsome. His golden locks drooped over his olive green eyes, and his smile was absolutely captivating.

  Maybe it’s worth it to let him finish talking.

  Gloria took a second look. If he was invited to this party, it must mean he was from the industry, she figured. But then she would have known him already.

  So who is he? she wondered. Gloria liked to know exactly with what, or with whom, she was dealing.

  “Gloria,” she introduced herself curtly, although she knew it wasn’t necessary.

  “Andy Swain,” he said, offering his hand.

  His hand hung in the air. When Gloria saw he didn’t intend to back down, she extended her hand to meet his.

  “Your name sounds familiar.”

  “That would be my father, Andrew Swain, Sr. He founded A&A Swain, the legal firm.”

  So he was a lawyer, specializing in tedious small talk no doubt. And, yet, there was something about him, something appealing. She looked into his eyes.

  “A&A? Are you working for your father then?”

  Andy shook his head. “No, those are our initials, my father’s and mine. He wanted me to become a lawyer, to join the firm and continue his legacy. But I chose to become a photographer. And still, the name remains. Perhaps he hopes I’ll change my mind but . . .” Andy shrugged and grinned.

  “You gave up being a high-priced lawyer for this?” she asked, looking around.

  “Not exactly,” he admitted with a self-deprecating smile. “Artistic photography is my real passion,” he surprised her. Andy preferred to omit the fact that in order to afford his art practice, he needed to shoot models for a living.

  “Ah, so that’s why you came to a fashion website promo party,” she teased. “Tell me, then, what do you see as art here?”

  Gloria swept a graceful hand, indicating the grand space. The entire west wall was of glass and framed the Manhattan lights, some steady, some flickering, others in motion, all overlooking the Hudson River. But even that picturesque panorama failed to inject any excitement in the dull ambience of this party. It was the same party that spun over and over again, with the same framework, tasteless food, and meaningless, often spiteful conversations that never changed.

  The only thing different was Andy.

  He shrugged again and laughed. “I have to admit I pulled a lot of strings to get here.”

  “No doubt the effort paid off,” a
tiny smile crept to her lips, an odd phenomenon, as she rarely felt comfortable with strangers.

  “It’s not so bad. I got to meet you, didn’t I?”

  Gloria smiled distantly and looked away.

  “I actually hoped for the chance to run into you,” he added.

  “Me? Why?” she asked, turning her head toward the skyline.

  He may be too eager, but he sure deserves some points for being bold.

  “I wanted to make you a proposal.” She arched an eyebrow. “I meant a job offer.”

  Gloria was completely surprised – perhaps even a little bit insulted – that he had only come to discuss business matters with her. She had read him all wrong.

  Worshiping models just ain’t what it used to be.

  “I’m sure you get dozens of offers every day,” Andy continued, “but I have a feeling you might be interested in this one.”

  Interested in another of an endless series of photography sessions, one for a magazine cover or fashion company or makeup campaign? Hardly something special or intriguing. She rolled her eyes inwardly. Why did people always think their project was any different from anyone else’s, she wondered. Where’s the art he was supposedly so passionate about?

  Andy sensed he was losing her interest. He had to make her say yes.

  He was talking but she wasn’t listening. Her eyes, along with her thoughts, so it seemed, had focused on a distant spot on the horizon. But then the word “art” caught her attention.

  “. . . an artistic project designed to arouse worldly resonance.”

  She shifted her gaze back to him.

  And . . . she’s back! Andy smiled broadly, revealing a pair of perfect-looking dimples.

  “I was hired to capture the true essence of beauty.” “Well, not beauty, but the idea of beauty, if you see what I mean. I’m talking about an artistic shoot, not just another campaign or commercial. And that takes a lot of work, starting with finding the ideal location, designing a magical background, and finding the perfect woman; because between you and me, there is no doubt that you are the fairer sex,” he smiled. “That’s why I need you. Now that I’ve seen and met you, I know that. If you don’t agree to do this with me, I’ll have to back out because I won’t settle for anything less than perfect; it would defeat the whole purpose. And as far as I’m concerned, there is no one more suitable for this project than you.”

  It wasn’t just a line, Gloria thought, looking at him. He appeared earnest, the artist in him revealing a glimpse of itself.

  “I would think you’d be better off choosing someone younger. After all, most people equate youth with beauty.” She cut right to the chase. She wanted to test his reaction.

  “Superficial ones, yes. But that’s not what I’m looking for. I want a timelessness, as in real, seemingly eternal beauty,” Andy grinned. “Think of fine wine that reveals its quality over time; someone younger would lack that essential maturity.” He paused and looked into her eyes. ”In any case, I haven’t seen any woman who’s got the drop on you, young or not. Therefore, I implore you to agree. Because I won’t do this without you.”

  The flattery helped. There was something about him that won her over, for now.

  “It does sound intriguing.”

  He clasped his hands together. “Say you’ll do it!”

  “Well, I don’t want to take the fall for ruining your project.” That rarely seen smile slipped out again.

  The truth was less altruistic, Gloria admitted to herself. Andy’s offer enticed her competitive drive. She was well aware that, although still in demand, increasingly younger models were nipping at her heels, threatening to make people believe that she was yesterday’s news. If she was going to retain that precarious perch at the top of the modeling world, she needed something to set her apart. Being crowned and marketed as the Ideal of Beauty might just do the trick. Then, no one could top her.

  “I’d need to know more,” she warned. “And we’d need to discuss all the details with my business manager before I commit.”

  “Great!” he called, as if it were a done deal, a big smile stretching across his face. “May I have your business card?”

  * * *

  Gloria sat with Arthur Cohen and her lawyer on one end of the table, while Andy and his lawyer occupied the other end. They were meeting to discuss the details of the contract.

  Arthur Cohen was Gloria’s personal manager. She did not have an agent; she didn’t like them. Gloria was not one of those models who snapped up every offer available, and she was determined to participate in every decision affecting her professional route. She was easily as much a successful businesswoman as a successful model. Gloria always got what she wanted. Five minutes with her shattered the stereotype that where beauty existed, brains failed to follow.

  Gloria glanced at Arthur’s profile as he chatted with her lawyer. He really had changed her life. And although she no longer needed him to guide her through meetings like this, she was grateful to have him by her side.

  She had been seventeen when their paths first crossed. In desperation, she had taken a job waitressing at a coffee shop. Her third day on the job and she hated it already. But she couldn’t afford to quit, not with her mother seriously ill and unable to work anymore. They had to move thousands of miles away from Gloria’s hometown in order to provide her mother with the best medical treatment. The bills had been stacking up and there were no kind neighbors or friendly, familiar faces to rely on in times of need. Gloria just had to keep this job. It put food on the table and kept the electricity on in their tiny apartment at least.

  Arthur had walked in that day, a change for him because his usual coffee spot had closed for renovations. He had taken a long look at the young waitress who served him and sensed that she was destined for great things. Was it fate, Gloria wondered? Regardless, she was still grateful that he had chosen her coffee shop over the others scattered along the block. The sun was shining on that warm spring day and Arthur had decided, uncharacteristically, to linger over his coffee at an outside table rather than getting it to go, as most Manhattanites did. The sun had indeed been shining down on her that day. Her life changed one-hundred-eighty-degrees as a result.

  You’ve come a long way, baby. She bit her lip to keep from smiling.

  Although modeling and the fashion industry were not Arthur’s line of business, he had connections which he didn’t hesitate to exploit on Gloria’s behalf. Two of the top people in the industry were friends from his college days back when, as idealists, they all dreamed about changing the world and winning a Nobel Prize. That idealism hadn’t lasted in the face of money’s allure. Arthur urged his friends to meet her and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Eventually, they gave in.

  There had been no regrets.

  Gloria broke into the modeling world and became a hot commodity in the industry overnight. Everyone wanted her. As far as the other models were concerned, ones that had been on the rise until she had come along, they hadn’t stood a chance.

  Gloria was grateful that she’d only been seventeen when Arthur “discovered” her. Nowhere was it truer than in modeling that time was the enemy, and timing was of the essence. Had she arrived on the scene on the heels of another model’s big break, her career might have stalled. She might appear to be in control of her career to those looking in from the outside, but she knew very well that the industry was the one pulling all the strings. Only the handful of powerful people controlling this business had a real say in who would get to be Miss Congeniality, and not the public, even if they wanted to believe otherwise.

  Gloria tilted her head slightly and pulled herself from her insightful memories back to the decorated meeting room. It wasn’t time for reminiscing. She leaned over and listened.

  After all of their business affairs had been settled, they moved on to discuss the details of the photo shoot. Andy had chosen to shoot in a magnificent forest in the southern peninsula of New Zealand, one he had discovered during his travels. He
explained that the contrast between the wild scenery and Gloria, who looked like a delicate china doll, would create a breathtaking sight that would be absolutely mesmerizing. “In other words, perfect,” he concluded with a grin.

  Gloria felt excited to commence this new adventure. Unlike what she was used to, the crew would be pretty small. Besides Andy, Gloria, and Arthur, it would include a make-up artist, who was also the hair designer, an assistant photographer, and a general assistant whose job was to take care of all the logistics. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was a solid plan. It seemed as though Andy had really thought this through. There was just one last thing to take care of.

  Gloria picked up her pen. “Where do I sign?”

  CHAPTER 2

  “Oh goody! I’m glad you woke up,” a jubilant, feminine voice echoed in the background.

  Julie did not know where she was or what was happening to her. Her eyes were blindfolded and her arms and legs were tightly chained to a chair. She could feel the blood draining from her joints, a sensation of excruciating pain. She ran a dry tongue over her parched lips, wondering how long she had been immured by her agony, and for how much longer would she have to suffer until she was rescued. If she would ever be rescued.

  Half of the time Julie was unconscious and did not realize what was happening to her; and when she was conscious, the pain overwhelmed her so much that she felt like she would pass out any minute. She had cried and begged, but it just didn’t stop.

  She was trapped like a helpless animal, dreading her huntress.

  “What’s going on here?!” Julie yelled with every last bit of strength left in her. “How long have I been here? Why are you doing this to me?” she screamed in tears.

  “You don’t have to yell,” the same female voice answered. “No one is going to hear you anyway. You’ve been here for two days, and no one has come to save you. But don’t you worry, it will all be over soon.”

  Julie couldn't see the malicious smile on the woman’s face when she said that.

 

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