123.
David’s POV.
After such a long trip with Mr. Oliver, I make my way into the mansion with practiced ease. My driver rushes over and takes my bag from me.
Irene comes also and greets me, asking what I’d like for dinner.
“I think some spaghetti bolognese will do,” I tell her. She inclines her head and mutters ‘good’ before she turns to leave.
On her way into the kitchen, I call her. “Irene.”
She stops and gazes at me from over her shoulder. “Sir?”
“I’d love fresh juice too. Make one for me.”
She nods again and prances away.
I strut into the living room and sink onto the sofa, turning on the TV.
Clutching the remote control in my hand, I tune in to the sports channel, taking in the football match playing.
The solitary reprieve allows me to relax my corded muscles as I perch my legs over the coffee table before me.
The football doesn’t hold my interest. I need to hear from Vera and call people who will help in organizing this gala I’ll be hosting.
At that, I emerge on my feet and hurry over to my room.
I saunter to the nightstand where the landline is.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I dial Charlie’s number.
“Hello, Mr. CEO?”
Charlie’s voice comes in, scratchy and dull.
“Sorry for the interruption, Charlie but I need you to order a new phone for me and have it delivered.”
I hear him grunt. Maybe he’s propping up from his bed.
“A new phone?” He asks, tentatively.
“You heard me right, Charlie,” I tell him with a firm voice.
“Right. Sir. I’ll work on that.” His voice echoes.
“Good.”
I cut the call after that. A knock comes in through the door.
“Who is that? Irene?” I ask.
“No. It’s Brown, Mr. Truman.”
Oh, I hum lowly. Then. “Please come in.”
The door creaks quietly open and Brown’s figure emerges in the room.
He locks his eyes on me and bows.
In his hand, I see a brown envelope and that piques my curiosity.
“How may I help you, Brown?” I ask, slinking to my closet.
From there, I watch him from over my shoulder as he speaks.
“Sir, we just got this parcel from Ms. Claire. She said the police had it delivered to the hotel a few hours after you left.”
Quickly, I drop the shirt I’m holding and cross the distance between me and Brown. Stretching my hand, he nestles the envelope on it.
“Thanks, Brown. You may go.”
He inclines again and walks away, slamming the door quietly behind him.
I march to the bed and take a seat as I slink my hand into the envelope.
My hand clutches on something I least expected…
“My phone?” I mutter, staring at the device I have been looking for since I went to Miami.
“What the fuck!?”
I scrub my hand over my face and curse.
How come they just found it after I left?
This is strange. And crazy too.
I curse again as I erect on my feet.
I stride into the balcony and pause.
I’m forcing myself to recollect how I must have lost my phone back at the party but nothing comes to mind.
I can’t help but wonder if Claire….
Wait, does she have a hand in this?
‘You can never tell.’ The voice in my mind whispers.
At that moment, a call comes into my phone and I bring it up to see Andrei’s name on the screen.
“Heard you’re back.” His voice comes in crisp but gruff.
I rub the bridge of my nose and chant, “Yes.”
Andrei hung up the call immediately after that, making me flustered.
What the heck just happened?
Sighing, I begrudgingly go down to the dining for dinner. I make a mental note to call Vera after dinner.
*
*
*
Irene already has the dishes served. However instead of a full table with dishes, it’s just about two platter and a glass of fresh juice.
Smoke emits from the spaghetti, wisping into the air.
I scrape the seat over the floor as I push it out and sink into it.
Rubbing my hands together briefly, I clutch the crockery and begin a dive into the food.
Fifteen minutes later***
The echoing footfalls tell me someone is approaching the dining from behind me.
Irene comes out from the kitchen that moment to refill my glass with fresh juice when Andrei’s presence encapsulates the room.
Smiling, I bring my head up and stare at Andrei.
“Andrei,” I call.
He barely returns the smile as he regards me. “Boss.” He calls.
The expression on his face makes my interest pique and I surge on my feet quickly.
“Is something wrong?” I ask him, watching the lines of frustration marring his face.
Andrei scoffs, “You mean to ask or you’re just trying to pull my legs?” He says a bit harshly.
My eyes hover in Irene’s direction and I see her watching us with a gasp.
She must be shocked at Andrei’s words.
“What do you mean, Andrei?” I bite out.
“You knew too well yet you decided to hurt her!” He barks.
Fuck! That surges a ball of rage in me and I throw a look at Irene, ordering. “Leave us!”
The woman clutches her dress and skitter away like her tails are on fire.
Now facing Andrei, I let my rage surface.
On a whim, I tackle him with my hand over his neck.
“Care to explain the reason for such a stunt?” I quirk a brow while he breathes heavily at my arrested hands on his neck.
“You…David! You and Claire? Is that it?”
His words have done nothing but confuse me more.
“Speak! Andrei!” I roar, now finding it difficult to breathe.
“You chose Claire over Vera! You broke the girl’s heart. How could you! Helen wouldn’t be so happy knowing you hurt her child.”
Fuck! I’m thrown off my feet as I take in Andrei’s words.
I’m beclouded by confusion and rage.
Shit! I step away from Andrei cursing.
“How in hell did I hurt my girl?”
“You don’t know? Don’t tell me you haven’t seen the viral pictures of you and Claire kissing like lovey-dovey birds.”
“What?”
It’s my turn to scream now as I jump to my feet. “What fucking pictures?”
“David…check the media. Oh, you and your new lover are trending.”
I launch my hand on the table and grab the phone I left on the table.
Thumbing through, I see the pictures of me and Claire and the headlines that follow.
Horror clouds my face. I can’t speak at all. Staring back at Andrei I grumble.
“How did this happen?”
Andrei seems to have understood my confusion if the look he gives me is any indication.
“You mean…you didn’t intend for it to go viral or what? You’re confusing me, David.”
I chuckle bitterly. Then. “This isn’t what it looks like.”
“Care to explain?” He asks, doubtful.
Then I go into telling Andrei how I lost my phone, incapacitating me from calling them. How Claire tried to kiss me on the golf pitch.
My agreement with Mr. Oliver about the upcoming gala event.
And how I fucking got my phone back.
He whispers a long sigh, perching over the wall.
“I thought you finally decided to ditch Vera.”
“That can never fucking happen.” I declare, my voice firm.
He scoffs. Then. “That’s how Vera had understood it, literally.”
“She thinks I cheated? Fuck, I’ll never hurt my woman.”
He shrugs, prancing into my space. “Then I advise you…meet her. Vera has been heartbroken.”
That admission squeezes my heart to a point of pain and I make a noise at the back of my throat.
I can…never hurt her. She means the world to me. The whole fucking world. And more.
I resolve to call her and then Andrei reveals something that has me surging to my feet and heading straight to Vera’s place.
“Three days ago, Anton, one of the Sokolov twins, nearly took Vera. In a club.”
“What?” I howl, my heart hammering.
*
*
*
Even though it’s dark. Even though there’s a whisper of danger lingering in the air, I drive through the dark streets, pushing my way to Vera’s place.
I can’t help the fleeting image of Vera being in Anton’s hands. The mafia’s hands, much less imagine her being kidnapped.
Moments later, I crawl into the garage and hurtle my way to her floor.
I knocked several times after I realized Vera had her keys changed.
She indeed wants to push me away.
“Vera! Please open up.” I call out.
Knocking on her door.
And shit!
She doesn’t respond.
I call Evelyn to know if she’s in but the woman isn’t.
Fuck, I curse and tousle my hair with my fingers.
I’m frustrated as well as raging.
I want her in my arms. I want to know how she’s doing but no response comes.
She shut me out.
Locked me out.
And open her arms to the devil. To the wolf.
My vision becomes mottled instantly and I press my head to the door and roar.
*****
Five Days After.
I’m watching the preparation going on in the ballroom.
The gala night is tomorrow.
The decorators are refining the room to a point of convenience while taking some directions from me.
I move around pointing, directing, and taking calls from the moguls calling to confirm the invitation they received.
It’s hectic but I’ve to do it and attain my goals.
Sometime, late in the afternoon, I leave the hotel and head over to Vera’s place.
For the past five days, we’ve not talked. I’ve not seen her with my eyes even though Andrei tells me she’s always indoors.
I want to know how she’s doing. I fucking want to.
I kill my engine and hurry upstairs through the elevator. Stopping by her door, I rap on it. Again and again. Tirelessly but she doesn’t pick.
I relent, sad as I bring out the invitation card and slide it through her door.
In front of it, I wrote. “Honor me with your presence tomorrow night, my angel.”
And I step away from the door, my heart heavy, broken. Damaged.
It hurts knowing she’s detaching herself from me.
Can I win her back?
How do I do that if she doesn’t let me in and prove my honesty?
TBC.