Günter walked straight into Noud’s trap with disarming ease. He dipped a piece of croissant into his lukewarm almond milk coffee and popped it into his mouth, chewing with satisfaction as he enjoyed his second breakfast of the day.
“Ted isn’t a relative, just an old friend,” he replied calmly.
Noud’s eyebrows shot up, a look of exaggerated astonishment spreading across his face.
“Really?” he asked, deliberately overstating his surprise. “I hadn’t realized your connection was that close. In fact”—he spread his arms a little too theatrically—“I thought you were total strangers, and not particularly fond of each other, either.”
Günter’s smile froze into a grimace. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair and coughed a few times, trying to hide his unease. He glanced toward their house for support, but the terrace was empty. Noud couldn’t conceal his satisfied grin. He cast a cautious glance at Bernard—and immediately regretted it. His partner’s eyes flashed with anger, his facial muscles tense. But Noud didn’t care. Their shared mission had somehow sprouted a dangerous side plot—a game he knew perfectly well was risky and never ended well.
“Actually, Ted’s from Viktoria’s old circle of friends,” Günter began, his voice uncertain. “ I never really liked him—no need to explain why, I suppose.”
For a moment, he tapped his teaspoon against the rim of his cup, lost in thought. Then, as if struck by a sudden inspiration, his face lit up with the spark of a plausible excuse.
“You see, I was a bit jealous of him. Viktoria broke off contact for my sake. They haven’t spoken in years.”
But Noud pounced again, mercilessly.
“And how come you two ended up moving to the same island, the same city, even the same complex?” he asked in a suspicious tone. “ Sorry, old man, but that sounds rather odd to me. I mean…”—he leaned deeper into his role as the naïve ‘friend’—“ don’t take it the wrong way, but something’s not adding up here. That guy didn’t just happen to buy a house right next to yours…”
The color drained from Günter’s face. The spoon rattled faster in his trembling hand.
“Well, I… I don’t think so,” he stammered. “ Viktoria’s not like that, and I trust her completely.”
“Oh, come on, Günter, my friend,” Noud exclaimed, feigning outrage. “ I’d never suggest such a thing about your wife! I was clearly talking about Ted. He’s the one I wouldn’t trust an inch!”
“Oh… I see…” Günter mumbled, clearly having lost the thread of the conversation.
Noud could hardly believe his luck. He turned triumphantly toward Bernard. His partner’s chest was heaving, nostrils flaring, fingers digging into his palms as his fists clenched tight. For a fleeting moment, Noud almost felt sorry for him—but the feeling passed quickly. Bernard had betrayed him, for reasons only God could know. And all for a stranger named Viktoria. The corner of Noud’s mouth curled into a mocking half-smile. Yes. Bernard deserved a lesson.
He reached out and gently took Günter’s wrist, gazing into his eyes.
“If I were you,” he said in a warm, velvety tone, “ I’d look into it.”
“S-sure… of course,” Günter muttered.
He stood up unsteadily, then, as if groping in the dark, fumbled his way toward the terrace exit.
“You really love stirring up shit, don’t you?” Bernard snarled. “ You mix it like fine jam—slowly, lovingly, with relish.”
Noud straightened up, lifting his chin slightly.
“You’re the one who brought the ingredients, my darling,” he said, standing and grabbing his cup. “ Anyway, thanks for breakfast—it was divine.”