𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄:
The game of cat and mouse
(1793)

THREE YEARS HAVE PASSED since Genesis arrived in New Orleans, and she cannot say that it has been easy because the Governor has been trying to suspend the boutique that Genesis adores.

She spent three years maintaining the boutique that she opened—a boutique that has a hidden saloon. But ever since it reached the Governor's attention that it is owned by a black woman, he has been actively trying to shut it down. Genesis can bloody slap her legal permit to his face if she has to.

Goodness, white people with a title really think that they own every possible vicinity of New Orleans. How arrogant. He's as irreplaceable as the lot of them.

Too bad his wife loved the boutique.

Because who wouldn't? Genesis acquired only the finest fabrics and garments from Paris. Her dressmakers and tailors are only the best of the best that she had trained over the years, and the fact that Jean Franquiz, a well-known French designer—a good friend of Genesis, sends his latest designs for Genesis to display, and with a good bargain, sells for a reasonable price.

"Madame Governor, it is such a pleasure to have you visit our boutique again." Genesis greets with a pleasant smile as she walks around the counter to greet the woman with a kiss on the cheek.

"Oh, Serena, such formalities, I told you countless times to call me Eleonor." The woman responds with a polite smile as she begins to scan the boutique with her dainty fingers, brushing the delicate garments with a look of awe at her features.

"Well, Madame Eleonor, how could I be of assistance?" Genesis asks as she places her hands behind her back and walks back behind the counter, observing the woman with a grin; it's impeccable timing to have the Governor's wife in Genesis' territory.

In Genesis' three years worth of stay in New Orleans. The boutique kept her company, along with Juliette and the helpers at Jean's mansion, which became part of her close circle. She hid under the shadows of a woman named Serena Mercier—an upper-class woman from Paris, France, who decided to open a boutique in New Orleans out of all places; she stayed under wraps to not get in the Mikaelson's radar.

It was the name she'd been using for as long as she could remember.

Rebekah Mikaelson is a regular customer of theirs; it's where she purchases her new gowns and accessories, and she couldn't find it in her heart to steal and compel when she saw black women sewing handmade gowns for a living. It's not like Rebekah can compel them; every worker she hired and the helpers in the Mansion are unknowingly drinking vervain-induced drinks.

Genesis made a habit of drinking tea before opening the boutique every morning, and the fact that her helpers in the Mansion also dined with her during lunch every day.

"I'm just looking around, dear. My husband wouldn't allow me to purchase any more gowns for the whole month." Eleonor laughs, sounding a bit forced as she waves her hand in dismissal.

"How unfortunate, madame." Genesis says with a sad smile as she takes a gown from a rack and carefully and gently lays it on the counter, "Monsieur Jean has sent a beautiful gown from Paris for Mardi Gras."

"Mardi Gras," Eleonor repeats as she takes the gown in her hands, "What a magnificent gown for a masquerade ball."

"Indeed it is." Genesis grins to herself. This is exactly what she wants. "Why not fit the gown, Madame?"

Eleonor looked at Genesis with an excited gleam in her eyes, "Oh, why not? It wouldn't take much time," Genesis helped her into the fitting room; the gown fitted Eleonor perfectly like it was made for her—because it was, Genesis sent Jean Eleanor's measurement, and she wanted to gift Eleonor a new gown.

"How exquise, Madame, the gown fits you wonderfully." Genesis compliments as they both look in the mirror.

Eleanor responds, her voice airy and a bit dreamy, "It is," She turns around and faces Genesis, "My husband will be furious when I purchase this,"

"Oh, Madame, you shan't worry. He will not be mad when a masquerade ball takes place tomorrow." Genesis tells her with a smile.

"Really? I haven't received an invitation." Eleanor frowns.

"It is because you will host it, Madame." Genesis grins again as she looks deeply into Eleanor's eyes, "You will convince your husband to host a masquerade ball for Mardi Gras tomorrow at seven in the evening, and you will not take no for an answer. Make sure the Mikaelsons will be in complete attendance. Send out two invitations to my house by this afternoon." Genesis compels as Eleonor looks at her in a daze as she repeats what Genesis told her to do.

Then Eleonor beams as if nothing happened. "It's been quite some time since I hosted a masquerade ball. How delightful. I'll be expecting you, Serena, yes?"

"Oui, Madame, I can never decline such an invitation."

•| ⊱✿⊰ |•

GENESIS moved gracefully through the ballroom. The blood-red gown caught the candlelight and transformed into shades of velvety crimson. From the waist, the gown flowed like a river of red.

"You've caused quite the murmurs, chérie," Juliette whispers, walking alongside Genesis and wearing a lapiz blue gown.

Genesis only smiled as she held the crimson-red mask over her face, "It is not their attention that I seek." she responded.

Juliette shakes her head with a smile. Over the course of three years, she and some of the helpers at Jean's mansion had their doubts about Genesis' questionable actions, but ever since Genesis sent the helpers' children to University, she not only treated them with kindness and respect, they condoned her actions and supported her.

It is surprising for them that an upper-class woman from France who radiated elite and class came into their life unexpectedly, and now they dine and converse with her as if they are lifelong friends.

They trusted Genesis with their life.

A dramatic entrance for the Mikaelson siblings is what Genesis has expected.

Elijah and Niklaus Mikaelson entered the ballroom dressed in tailored suits, tall with impressive forms, Elijah with his slicked back dark hair parted to the side that gave him a neat appearance and Niklaus with his rakish styled hair that only added more to his mischievous grin. Both are shaved, both tall and dressed impeccably.

Rebekah stood in between them with her arms wrapped in her brother's arms. She looked like a doll with her curled golden blonde hair and emerald green gown that complimented her skin tone. She's beautiful and ethereal, and her eyes emit an innocent glint, but Genesis knows Rebekah Mikaelson is far from innocent.

The rest of the crowd whispered too enthusiastically about their arrival, and a few debutantes straightened their shoulders. Fans with gloved hands started flicking more across the room.

Because the two most wanted bachelors of New Orleans had finally arrived.

One gentleman and one rake.

They are quite an interesting duo.

Genesis observed them more as they interacted with the Governor and his wife. They emanate power. A true example of well-bred nobility that they had practiced for centuries, they radiated aristocracy, it's why they successfully deceived the wealthy. But Genesis can only assume that living for centuries, they acquired wealth in their resourceful ways.

The first strains of a waltz floated from the orchestra's instruments. The melody is a gentle embrace that seems to beckons the dancers to the floor. "You wouldn't mind me dancing, would you, Juliette?"

"Who am I to stop you?" Juliette grins. Juliette knew the purpose of their attendance at this ball.

Genesis moved swiftly across the room, and she stopped in front of a nice-looking man and offered her hand as she compelled, "Dance with me," he did what was asked of him. He guided Genesis towards the center of the ballroom, and they danced along with the others.

(Listen to Melting Waltz by Abel Korzeniowski)

Elijah's gaze swept the room, his eyes pausing briefly on each mask, each face. And then, as if drawn by an invisible force, his attention settled on a woman wearing a blood-red gown that flowed smoothly against the floor. Her mask, an intricate creation of red and gold, framed her eyes and lent her an air of ethereal allure, and she danced with so much elegance and poise.

There is no sense of recognition and familiarity, but he is curious.

Elijah excused himself as he made a beeline towards the center of the ballroom. With good timing, partners exchanged. Elijah caught the mysterious woman's hand smoothly.

With ease, they entered the dance floor. Elijah danced with elegance and experience that spoke for itself, and each step measured confidence and control. With her hand resting on his shoulder as they moved in unison, the woman followed his example, and they soon found themselves in perfect rhythm. With each twist, each elegant turn.

The woman's dark green eyes pierced his whiskey-colored eyes. Looking more deeply into her eyes, he could see the yellowish-green hue in her irises. Elijah's gaze never wavered, his eyes holding a mixture of curiosity and genuine interest. The way she held his gaze, she wasn't intimidated by him, and it captivated him. The woman carried herself with confidence that Elijah thought he had never met a woman like the one in his arms.

The waltz drew to a close, the final notes of the music echoing through the hall. Elijah lowered his torso, and the woman followed his movements as her hand gripped his shoulder. Elijah's left hand supported the woman's waist, and his right supported her back as they both went for a dip.

Elijah leaned in as he closed in on the woman's neck. A scent of lavender and honey invaded his senses and branded his mind. It engulfed him whole.

"Tell me your name," He murmured as his lips grazed the woman's neck. He felt the woman's hand cup his face, tilting it up as the green eyes once again pierced through him.

"I must confess, my lord, I assumed a gentleman like you would make an effort to know my name," The woman replies with a thick French accent; her voice ringed in Elijah's head; it is smooth, with a hint of seduction. An urge to remove her mask is quite strong.

Elijah slowly brought his partner back to an upright position. The woman curtsied with a smile on her crimson-painted lips as she walked away from him with elegance and melted into the shadows, leaving Elijah Mikaelson intrigued.

And so the game of cat and mouse begins. The only question is, who is the cat, and who is the mouse?

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

━━ I am establishing a new rule that I won't update any chapters until the previous chapter I posted isn't receiving the amount of attention/hype (comments & votes) I would have preferred, so this time I know that ya'll actually want to read my updates. This might get a weekly update if I am satisfied with the feedback!