Richard's grin was triumphantly smug. He had found her despite all her attempts to hide.

His hair, his awfully coiffed dark blonde hair, still didn't have a strand out of place. There was a time when the sight of his hair was enough to make her heart flutter, yet at present, she couldn't think of anything more satisfying than seeing it all shaved off—well, perhaps his reaction to a bald head would be a tad bit more satisfying than the baldness itself.

However furious Arabella might have felt, one emotion overpowered her anger. It was an emotion that she had been all too familiar with in the 4 years they had been together.

He was still as terrifying as she remembered. Running hadn't taken the fear away.

Even now, seeing him standing in the middle of the living room, his clothes pressed, hands casually in his pockets, made her blood run cold.

Richard had never believed in coincidence. He believed that everything could be calculated and planned to a T—even obtaining her love.

"Speechless, babe? I'm here, I've missed you a lot." He tipped his forehead towards the door behind her. "Tsk, you forgot to lock up," he tutted before his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. "I've always had to remind you to do that. I guess you fell into old habits without me."

"Why the fuck are you here?" Arabella demanded, keeping the door open behind her, in hopes of seeing Mrs. Rothschild coming up. She needed to call the police!

There was a slight twitch in Richard's expression. His steely eyes squinted for a split second, but relaxed as quickly as they had hardened.

"I'm sorry, babe." His face softened, "I thought that this would be a good surprise, but clearly, I misjudged." Annoyance etched on his face, Richard took a step forward and Arabella took an instinctive step back.

This seemed to put Richard more on edge. "Why are you treating me as if I'm a dangerous criminal? I'm your fiancé for god's sake."

"Was. We are not together anymore," she spat bitterly and stepped away from him, moving towards the insides of the kitchen as he continued to move forward. "This is my apartment, and you're trespassing. I want you to leave, now!"

Their steady dance left him near the door and Arabella beside the refrigerator. Their positions had reversed.

Richard rolled his eyes. "I've no time to play this merry-go-round with you, babe. Why don't we talk about this like adults? You're behaving like a child."

"Stop. That." Arabella ran a hand over her face, frustrated and pained.

How could she dig through her bag to phone the police when he was watching her every move?

He might attack her, and Arabella didn't think that she was good enough at combat to throw him off. Given a few minutes, Richard could probably choke her, and her struggles would be a pathetic attempt at survival.

He had never laid so much as a finger on her before, but there was something in his gait and stance that told her that he might not be as opposed to doing so now.

"Let's communicate..." His words were delivered with a creepy serene smile.He had slammed the door behind him, "...in private," he finished.

He allowed his gaze to wander around the room to observe his surroundings. "A cozy little place you have here. I didn't take you for a city girl, much less, New York, but this place suits you. The building is a little old and detached from the modern world, but I can see how it suits you."

That was clearly an insult hidden in a compliment, but it surprised her that realizing what he meant didn't make her flinch.

Richard sighed and leaned against the nearest counter, his arms crossed against his chest. "I loved you. I still love you. Why did you have to run away from something so good?"

Arabella's mind careened to scathing derision, at him or herself, she didn't know.

A small voice wanted to scream out, Let's see why, you asshole! There were so many reasons to list that they would need more than 24 hours to talk them through.

But she decided against it.

Instead, she scoffed at him, "It was only good for you! Have you never asked yourself if it was good for me?"

Arabella was starting to feel the ends of her hair tingle. The fury building in the pit of her belly had become too hot to ignore. "I had no life! You made sure of that. I had no friends, no career. I had to work for you in your stupid company! I had nothing to speak of for myself except that I was your girlfriend, fiancé, or wife or whatever."

A confident brow arched to show how he found her statements ludicrous. "And you blame that on me? Whose fault is that really? Even when you felt so unaccomplished, I loved you all the same. I was good to you. I am good for you."

He laughed bitterly, the sound putting her on edge. "My stupid company is earning lots of money, too bad you ran before it took off."

His lips disappeared as his mouth set in a grim line. He paused to rub his chin in thought, humming to himself as he prepared a biting insult.

An insult Arabella already knew was coming.

"I wonder if you leaving us did the company good. You didn't really seem to know anything about the business anyway."

This was pointless! There was no way in hell that this conversation qualified for a 'let's communicate' moment.

Arabella had fully intended to stand her ground, but Richard threatened to move closer when he noticed her picking the bag up.

"I'm calling the police! I don't want you here! Stay away from me," she shrieked, holding a hand out to keep him at bay.

As Richard took another step towards her, a pot fell from the edge of the counter. Its metal clanged against the tiles in a painful assault to the ears.

Distracted, Richard glanced back at the pot as he assessed how it fell in the first place.

Arabella glanced at the clock on the wall and exhaled a ragged breath after realizing that it was, thankfully, 6 in the evening.

Thank god, James was here! Finally! She could use his help even if he couldn't touch people directly. She was sure that he'd be able to think of something!

A chill in the air surrounded her briefly and left. She had already braced herself for defeat, when James arrived. With him around, she felt like she was soaring, and that she could achieve or conquer anything—even this dick who refused to give up.

Richard didn't bother to pick up the pot, and he began to step forward again. Only this time, his boot encountered a wet rag that caused him to lose his footing.

His arms gripped the counter tightly, his near slip had shaken his entire body and loosened his coiffure. "What the—"

Arabella watched as the cold and pale headless chicken lay inanimate, but waiting, on the edge of the sink behind Richard. She could almost tell what James had planned next, and she stood perfectly immobile, phone in hand, as she anticipated his next move.

As soon as Richard was standing upright, the chicken slowly lifted backward in preparation for the swing, and in a blink, was flung towards the back of his head, a satisfying bullseye, earning a horrified gasp and giggle from Arabella.

"Oh my god!" Noting a window, she quickly dialed 9-1-1 and placed the phone against her ear as she covered her mouth and laughed.

Hunched over the counter, Richard didn't know what had hit him.

No, really, Richard literally didn't know what hit him.

A string of expletives later, he glanced around him to look for the offending object. He lifted the chicken by its knuckle, pinching it in between his fingers with a disgusted look on his face.

"What the fuck is going on here, Arabella!"

Oh god, he was furious! Nothing good ever came out of him being furious. Arabella stared at him, biting her lip, agitated as she waited on the operator who had, for the love of all things holy, asked her to hold.

"Come on, come on, come on, come on..."

Richard tossed the chicken away from him and bent down to pick up the wet rag that had nearly caused him to split his head open. With another hateful cuss, he flung the rag in the same direction as the chicken.

Seething at things he was incapable of understanding, he checked his footing, lifting one foot at a time to check what was underneath before he focused his raging gaze on her.

But even before he could decide to do anything else, all the chopping boards and knives toppled over, sending all the tools flying over the counter and into the sink and onto the floor.

The tiny hairs on Richard's arm stood up. If only Arabella had the presence of mind to use her phone to capture the expression on his face. It would've been worth a few bucks.

Bewildered, he stared at the objects and back at Arabella, back at the objects, then back at Arabella. He mouthed the word 'poltergeist' but shook his head in denial.

Richard demanded to know why Arabella hadn't, not even once, reacted to what was happening in the apartment.

This was anything but ordinary. "Is this normal for you? Huh. Huh? HUH?!"

Richard didn't even have the words. "What have you been doing? What have you—"

He swirled around and lost his footing as he tripped over a whisk. "Have you been associating with witches?"

His voice hitched and cracked painfully at the last syllable. "Voodoo? Black magic?"

Arabella remained far from him and was close to shaking the phone. How could she be on hold for this long?

"Don't try me!" Richard yelled, as someone picked up from on the other end of the line.

"Hello? Yes, I need the police!" Arabella screeched through the phone and yelped as Richard lunged at her aggressively.

"Now! Please! A man's attacking me!"

She was on the couch now, struggling to keep her balance over the plush cushion, as she jumped away from him.

"Argh!" Richard stumbled over the coffee table, broken glass and splintered wood cutting his skin as another waterfall of objects came raining down on him.

In between startled screams, Arabella was able to give her address to the operator. When she had been assured that the police were on their way, she dropped the call and watched as James donned his oven mittens.

While Richard swam over the pile of things, James struggled to pull the man's shoes off. It was quite a sight to behold.

Just what was James trying to achieve with this? Arabella screamed unintelligibly as she repeatedly smacked Richard with the living room pillows, spilling feathers around them.

Disoriented beyond thought and his attack long forgotten, Richard scrambled to his feet. He howled—a combination of frustration and pain as he pushed the objects that surrounded him away.

Bowls, ingredients, flour, and destroyed pillows covered him. Soy sauce and blood glued pillow feathers to his body, effectively making him look like a chicken.

Richard wasn't angry anymore. It was the first time that Arabella had seen his face register fear. He had been extremely confident and self-assured up until this point. She would have paid good money to see him like this, afraid and defeated, comically looking like a poorly budgeted ad for KFC.

Richard gingerly stepped away from the mess, clutching his wounds to his chest as he stood immobile in silence. He stopped to stare at Arabella, weighing her up, before agreeing to an unspoken impasse.

Sudden plastic clicks from the refrigerator magnets cut through the painful silence of the room.

Both he and Arabella watched the ghostly movement of the magnets, the letters rearranging themselves in a horrifying slowness that resembled the messages received from a Ouija board.

R.

U.

N.

Reading the word sent the sock-footed assaulter hurtling through the door, screaming as he half-ran, half-limped his way out. "Fuck this! You bitch! You're a fucking witch!"

He ran and never came back.

Just like a bad action movie, the police arrived only when Richard was long gone.

The officers were greeted by the unsightly mess. Soy sauce and blood stained the carpet below the shattered coffee table, covered in a mountain of kitchen tools and feathers. Arabella, though still visibly shaken, answered the police's questions, while others examined the scene.

Arabella recounted the events, and as expected, the police had trouble understanding how the suspect tripped and fell without any intervention from her. The best thing she could say was that she couldn't remember how exactly it had occurred, as she had been focused on keeping him at bay.

Arabella had the idea to show the officers his emails and shoes. Together, all of this was more than enough for the officers to put out a city-wide all-points bulletin (APB) and issue an order to be-on-the-lookout (BOLO) for him.

After everything, Arabella felt drained to the bone. She declined to go to the hospital. She just wanted to sleep, to forget about the day and lock everyone out.

After several more conversations and failed attempts by the officers to get her to go to the hospital, Arabella finally passed out on her bed.

James had remained by her side throughout all this. He even accompanied her as she went up to sleep, just to make sure that she reached the bed safely.

As soon as she was knocked out, James dutifully went back to the living room and started to tidy up a little. In the corner of the room, he spotted her phone lighting up and beeping softly as a message came in.

He resisted the urge to snoop. James remembered how reading Arabella's emails had not been received well, and so he held off, instead focusing on cleaning and picking up the broken kitchen tools.

Although he feared that Richard might have been trying to contact her again, he was sure that as long as Arabella remained in the apartment, she would be safe.

While his thoughts lingered on that subject, they both missed the message that hadn't come from Richard at all.

It was from Claudine, and it read: "Hey, just wanted to let you know that the company has filed for bankruptcy. We better start looking for new jobs."

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A/N: Here is the awaited chapter! I hope it was as satisfying to read as it was for me to write :)

I have fantastic news for all of you! Thank you so much for all your support--reading, voting, and commenting on this novella. My Guest in Apartment 10B had passed round 2 and is now on its way to round 3! I can't even begin to express how excited I am for this! 

As always, all your comments and feedback are welcome (and might be crucial for editing at this point). Thanks! If you enjoyed this chapter, kindly consider giving it a vote :)

Update: edited May 4, 2020