Philip
“Sarah, get me a drink,” I almost blurted out, realizing Sarah wasn’t home.
As I moved through the vi, the silence enveloped me like a heavy nket. Each step echoed in the emptiness, emphasizing the absence of Sarah’s presence. The familiar sight of her lounging on the sofa, which greeted me upon returning home, was notably absent.
Alone in the quiet vi, a sense of loneliness settled over me like a heavy shroud. With a mixture of frustration and longing, I lowered myself onto the sofa, my hand instinctively curling into a tight fist. The mere notion of Sarah possibly entangled with Amir Benner ignited a fierce surge of anger, stirring my emotions to their core.
Amidst the silence, a profound emptiness enveloped me, leaving me adrift in a sea of unresolved emotions.
It was the familiarity of having Sarah around for three years that left me feeling unsettled. Frustration surged through me, prompting me to hurl the ss I had just used for water before storming out of the vi. Opting to spend the night at the office seemed preferable, so I informed Alex of my decision.
Despite my desire to locate Sarah, the pressing issues at the office prevented me from traveling to Dubai to confront Amir Benner.
A weekter, I observed a new face in the role of secretary.
“Where is the previous secretary?” I inquired of Alex, my attention drawn to the change as he entered the room, not out of any particr interest in the secretary’s presence.
My assistant exined, “Mr. Williams’s wife filed aint about her husband’s involvement with the secretary. It caused quite a stir while you were away in Monaco, boss.”
Alex mentioned thepany’s production manager.
“It turned out that the secretary has been using our credit card for personal expenses,” Alex disclosed. “The amounts she’s spending are rtively small, so they flew under the radar for a while. However, it ultimately led to her removal from the team and raisedints within the office.”
I nodded, absorbing Alex’s revtion.
“What about Sarah’s whereabouts?” I inquired, simultaneously scanning through some documents.
Alex scratched his head in uncertainty. “Boss, I’m not entirely sure. I apologize.”
Lowering the document, I made eye contact with Alex, trying to understand what he had just said. It was the first time our team couldn’t handle a particr piece of information.
“What do you mean?” A mix of concern and suspicion crept into my voice, causing my gaze to narrow.
“Mr. Amir Benner has a penthouse apartment in Dubai, but our investigation found no evidence of a woman living there,” Alex exined tentatively.
“Are you suggesting Sarah is sleeping with him?” I snapped, my frustration evident.
“N-no, boss! That’s not what I meant,” Alex hastily rified, attempting to salvage the situation, but my anger had already ignited.
“Then why the fvck were you snooping around Mr. Benner’s apartment for Sarah?” I demanded, struggling to contain my temper.
“W-well, there’s a possibility, considering Madam Sarah-”
As Alex attempted to exin, his words were abruptly silenced by the loud crash of a crystalized paperweight hurtling through the air, shattering upon impact with the nearby wall. The sudden eruption of violence jolted Alex, causing him to flinch at the intensity of my outburst visibly.
“Alex, do you understand where you went wrong?” I asked through clenched teeth.
“Yes, boss. I apologize. It wasn’t very reasonable of me to entertain such thoughts. I only spected because thest time anyone saw Madam Sarah was at the airport with Mr. Benner. I’m truly sorry. Besides, Mr. Benner is getting married to his long-time girlfriend, Jessica Woods.”
“Keep a close eye on Mr. Amir Benner! And this better be thest time you entertain the idea of Sarah running off with someone else! Also, find out who Sarah was with that man in Serenity Pines on our anniversary night!”
I was desperate for answers.
But days stretched into agonizing weeks, each one heavier than thest. Yet, still, there was no trace of Sarah or the mysterious person in the hoodie. It felt like she had been swallowed by the void, disappearing into the ether without a whisper of her whereabouts.
As weeks bled into months, I abandoned myself to the singr pursuit of iming the presidency at Luminary Productions.
The opportunity presented itself, and I fought tooth and nail with fervor. The board, recognizing my drive andpetence, granted me the coveted position with my father as a chairman.
I wondered if Sarah’s disappearance had identally made things easier for me. Yet, I remained steadfastly focused on work despite my mother’s persistent insistence that I reconnect with Megan.
Then, out of nowhere, I received a divorce decree from the civil court, finalizing the end of my marriage with Sarah.
What the hell just happened? How did the papers get filed without my knowledge?
And where the hell is my ex-wife?
Iter discovered that my mother had submitted those papers a day after we signed it!
***
After a year, I seized the opportunity to travel to Dubai.
Exhausted from the relentless grind of work, I got to partake in the adrenaline-fueled chaos of the GT Racingpetition, ted to erupt at the prestigious Dubai Autodrome.
With excitement rushing through me, I jumped into a fiercepetition with many talented people. Winning round after round got me closer to the big showdown: facing off against the winners from earlier battles.
“It’s TerraTraxx Automotive that’s footing the bill for this race,” Orlie informed me, “and the ultimate victor will serve as the ambassador for theirtest sports car model.”
As we entered the dome, three identical cars stood prominently, each in a different hue – yellow, blue, and red. Their polished surfaces sparkled, captivating the attention of everyone present.
“How much do they cost?” I inquired, eyeing the sleek vehicles.
“Eight million dors!” he eximed. “Can you believe it? Twenty-four million for a trio of cars purely intended as decorative fixtures for racing events, courtesy of TerraTraxx. Tss!”
“You fancy one of those?” I teased Orlie, knowing full well that the winner of the race would receive thetest model of the supercar.This text is property of N?/velD/rama.Org.
“Absolutely!” Orlie replied eagerly.
“Well, then consider it yours,” I teased him.
“Talking about money now, huh?” Orlie retorted with a smirk. “It’s a whole different ball game when you’re wealthy!”
“You lunatic! You’ll be the one left footing the tax bill!” I quipped, chuckling at the thought.
As the team meticulously scrutinized the car I was ted to drive, I was engrossed in observing the participants on the iPad Orlie lent me.
Then, out of nowhere, the thunderous roar of engine number 3011 shattered my tranquility. It echoed through the air like a beast unleashed, impossible to disregard. Yet, amidst the cacophony, I couldn’t shake the sensation of the driver’s piercing gaze boring into me as the vehicle prowled past.
“Who was that?” I inquired, seeking rification from Orlie about the driver concealed within the car.
Orlie quickly checked his phone to cross-reference the participants with the car’s number. “Oh, it’s ze Belle,” he responded. “She’s also a champion in a second round, who’s been absent from the scene for years. Just made aeback recently.”
“Really? A woman?” I was surprised, recalling the inclusive nature of the current racing tournament.
“Yeah, it’s a mixed-gender event,” Orlie confirmed. “ze Belle has quite the reputation. I’ve only seen snippets of her races online since she keeps a low profile.”
“Do you know her personally?” I pressed; my curiosity aze. It seemed improbable that Orlie would be acquainted with any racer, particrly considering his earlier remark about the woman’s extended absence from the racing scene.
“Not personally, but she’s a formidablepetitor,” Orlie remarked. “The rumor about her pursuing university studies could be true, considering her low-key presencetely.”
“It means she’s young,” I muttered.
“Yeah…” Orlie shrugged his shoulders.
I initially dismissed ze Belle as a conversation topic to avoid misunderstandings with Orlie. However, as part of my routine, I took the time to watch her racing video. I needed to understand her techniques and how she navigates the track.
ze Belle’s performance was impressive. She wlessly executed cornering maneuvers, engaging in strategic battles with herpetitors and making shrewd decisions during pit stops. Her strategic positioning on the track gave her a significantpetitive edge.
Despite my persistent curiosity, I found no photographs of her on my browsing screen. ncing in her direction, I noticed her back facing me, obscuring her features yet exuding an undeniable allure.
A shiver coursed down my spine as I admired the graceful curve of her slender figure, the way her coffee-brown locks cascaded in waves, teasingly brushing against her tiny waist. However, it was the sight of her round, captivating butt that momentarily stole the air from my lungs.
An unsettling feeling lingered, suggesting her presence was significant beyond this moment’s confines. Fortunately, the final tournament is about to start.
All the participants took their ces, and the engines revved up loudly, filling the stands with a powerful sound. The crowd leaned forward eagerly, clearly excited and waiting in anticipation. My vehicle poised at the starting line, eyes fixed on the twisting ribbon of asphalt ahead.
As the signal red, a surge of adrenaline propelled me forward, and tires squealed as I fought for position, flirting with danger as my car danced at the edge of control.
The tournament climaxed as my car and ze Belle’s went head-to-head in the final stretch, with the checkered g looming on the horizon.
An eerie feeling crept over me as my ego surged. I couldn’t bear the thought of being beaten by a woman.
ze Belle demonstrated her mastery of cornering techniques, executingte braking maneuvers at the twisting alley. Her swift movements caught me off guard as she surged ahead, leaving me trailing behind by meters.
However, I was utterly astonished when she intentionally let me pass her just meters away from the finish line, conceding victory.
Fvck! Fvck! Fvck! Fvck! That woman was ying mind games with me!
“Ladies and gentlemen, in a thrilling conclusion, car number 1065 has crossed the finish line, clinching victory spectacrly! We have our winner!”
Even though I emerged victorious in thepetition, a sense of dissatisfaction lingered within me. I couldn’t shake the realization that ze Belle had deliberately let me win the tournament.
Gritting my teeth, I attempted to exit the car, only to be obstructed by my team and several dome attendees who congratted me on my triumph.
But ze Belle… Her actions left me with apletely different emotion despite my victory. That woman’s audacity knew no bounds.
As she stepped out of her car, disbelief washed over me as I recognized the familiar figure-it was Sarah!