《Fractured Desires》


 Chapter 1 - Nightmare

    ¡°I¡¯ve had enough,¡± I whispered to myself, the words carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken sorrows. My voice, barely a murmur, was a reflection of the hollowness that had settled in the pit of my chest. It wasn¡¯t a declaration, but a desperate plea for respite.


    I placed my trembling hand on my chest, feeling the relentless thumping of my heart. Each beat resonated like a drum in the silent confines of my car. It was a loud, heavy rhythm that mirrored the turmoil inside me.


    Why... Why did you do it?


    I blinked rapidly, battling against the tears that threatened to surge forth, my vision blurred by both my own internal storm and the unforgiving speed of the freeway. The city lights whisked past in a kaleidoscope of colors, mirroring the chaos that had taken root in my soul.


    The sadness that enveloped me, was suffocating and raw. It was a despair that crept into every corner of my being, gnawing at my soul like a relentless predator. My heart ached, not just with sorrow but with a profound sense of betrayal. The people I thought I could trust had let me down.


    No, not people... One person... There was only one person that mattered. And she... She betrayed me... No, even worse than that... Betrayal doesn¡¯t even begin to cover what she did to me...


    ¡°Do you have any idea of what you¡¯ve d-d-done to me?¡± I whispered, my grip tightening around the steering wheel.


    ¡°...¡±


    ¡°Of course, you don¡¯t... You never really cared about me, did you?¡±


    I looked at the world outside through the glass and saw that it was oblivious to the tempest raging in my heart. I couldn¡¯t escape the memories, the pain, and the sense of loss that had haunted me for too long.


    ¡°You broke me...¡± I felt my breath catch in my throat as the words left my lips.


    THUMP.


    THUMP.


    THUMP.


    I¡¯m an idiot... I¡¯m an idiot for believing that someone actually cared about me... I¡¯m a fool for thinking that I mattered to her...


    ¡°FUCK!¡± I cursed, slamming my fist against my window. ¡°Why did I ever think that you cared about me? How could I let myself be fooled so easily!?!¡±


    ¡°...¡± Once again silence fell over the car.


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    I hated to admit it, but I was alone. Not just in my car, but in life. I was going to be alone for the rest of my life, and the sooner I accepted it, the better. I could continue screaming for days, cursing her for stabbing my heart, but the truth was simple. My screams would never reach her. My pain would never be felt and my voice would remain unheard.


    If only she could feel the pain I was feeling, maybe then she¡¯d realize what she¡¯d done...


    DRIP!


    One solitary raindrop splashed against my windshield, a delicate herald of the impending storm. It clung to the surface for a fleeting moment before another joined it, and then another. Each drop, a tiny prism refracting the city lights, left a transient mark on the glass. The tempo of their descent quickened, a gentle prelude to the deluge that was soon to follow.


    As the rain began to fall more insistently, a soothing symphony of nature¡¯s tears played on my car¡¯s roof.


    Madeleine... I miss you...


    I remembered the way her hair smelled, a delicate lavender that always lingered in the air whenever she was near. It was a scent that had become inextricably linked to her, a fragrance of both solace and longing. Her smile, radiant and infectious, could illuminate even the darkest corners of my soul. Her voice, soft and melodious, was a balm to my wounds, and her laughter, a melody that once brought me endless joy.


    But now, those memories were bittersweet echoes, ghosts of a love that had turned to ash. The itchy sensation in my eyes returned, the unwelcome reminder of unshed tears. I blinked away the moisture, but the relentless rain outside provided a welcome camouflage for the tears I couldn¡¯t hide from myself.


    ¡°I-I can¡¯t... I can¡¯t do this anymore...¡±


    I clenched my fists as my words were once again met with silence. I knew that I was alone, but still... Somewhere in my mind, I was hoping that something... Perhaps some supernatural force would save me... Tell me that everything was going to be okay...


    ¡°Why am I so dumb?¡± I cursed under my breath. ¡°Of course, nobody is going to save me... Even if there is some supernatural force out there, they don¡¯t care about me... why would they care!?¡±


    SILENCE.


    ¡°It¡¯s over,¡± I whispered to myself, my voice a fragile thread that barely held my crumbling resolve. I couldn¡¯t stand it any longer- the relentless pain, the haunting memories, the gaping void where love had once thrived. The world outside my car had become surreal, distorted by the turmoil that raged within.


    As I continued to drive, my gaze locked on the rain-slicked road, and a truck emerged from the opposite direction. Its headlights cut through the dark, a piercing beacon that seemed to beckon me into the abyss. In that moment, something inside me shattered, and I lost every ounce of will to live.


    My body seemed to move of its own accord as if possessed by some invisible force. I turned the steering wheel, veering toward the oncoming truck. The world blurred around me, and the sound of my own desperate breaths filled the air. The truck drew closer, a looming specter that would soon consume me.


    The blaring of the truck¡¯s horn pierced the heavy silence, jolting me from my trance. My hands trembled on the steering wheel, and I squirmed in my seat, gripped by a primal fear. The truck¡¯s headlights bore down on me, searing through the rain-smeared windshield, nearly blinding me in their intensity.


    Just before the inevitable collision, the world seemed to fracture into chaos. Time slowed, and I felt a peculiar sense of detachment as if I were an observer rather than a participant in my own life. Then, in an instant, the world went black.

 Chapter 2 – Reminisces

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    My eyes snap open, and I gasp for air, the lingering remnants of the nightmare fading like mist into the ether.


    As I stare at the ceiling, a fog of confusion envelops me. The room is cloaked in darkness, with only the faint glimmer of the rising sun outside casting feeble light upon the walls. I feel disoriented, like a traveler emerging from a dense forest into an unfamiliar clearing.


    It takes a few moments for my racing heart to find its rhythm, and I blink several times to reassure myself that I¡¯m awake. I place my hands on my face and pinch one of my cheeks, feeling a wave of relief wash over me as I wince in pain. The sharp sting is a visceral reminder that I¡¯m awake, that I¡¯ve escaped the clutches of the nightmare.


    ¡°Fuck my life,¡± I whisper under my breath as I rub my groggy eyes.


    It¡¯s been two months since the last time I endured a nightmare like that. Two months of peace and quiet, without dreaming the same dream that¡¯s been haunting me for years. Truth be told, I was starting to wonder if I¡¯d have the same dream again...


    Sometimes it feels like some supernatural force is fucking with me, haunting me with emotions that I¡¯d long hope to forget. It seems as though that same nightmarish specter always seems to return to me unfailingly, a cruel reminder of the miserable life I once endured... Thankfully, the nightmare is over... For now.


    As I shift under the covers, I become acutely aware of the dampness clinging to my body. My shirt is soaking wet, sticking uncomfortably to my skin. To be honest, I¡¯m a bit embarrassed that this bloody dream still seems to have this sort of effect on me, even after all this time... I mean, after a decade of having the same dream, I should be better at coping with it... Right?


    I sit up, discarding my sweat-soaked shirt as I prepare to cast off the lingering echoes of that haunting nightmare. But just as I¡¯m about to step away from my bed, a soft, gentle hand reaches out from under the covers and takes hold of my wrist.


    What the fuck!?!


    My heart leaps in my chest, and for a brief, heart-pounding moment, fear courses through me like an electric shock.


    My first instinct is to pull away, to recoil from the unexpected touch.


    As my racing heart gradually steadies, the fog of fear begins to lift. Fragments of the previous night¡¯s memories begin to resurface, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle falling into place. The scent of her perfume, the soft laughter that had filled the room, and the intimate moments we¡¯d shared¡ªall remnants of my night with Becky, the woman I spent the night with.


    My breath escapes in a shaky exhale as I let my body relax. The room transforms from an enigmatic maze into a sanctuary of familiarity. I glance to my side, where Becky lies, her tousled hair framing her serene face.


    ¡°So, did you enjoy last night?¡± Becky asks, pulling me under the covers with a playful tug.


    Now that our faces are practically inches apart, I notice her eyes sparkling with a hint of morning mischief and I can¡¯t help but chuckle. Over the past three months, she¡¯s been nothing short of persistent, throwing herself at me, quite literally at times, and I¡¯ve been playing hard to get.


    No, that doesn¡¯t sound right... My cold behavior toward her wasn¡¯t meant to encourage her but in fact to do the opposite... I mean, truth be told, I was never really interested in sleeping with Becky...


    Yesterday, though, was a different story. As I returned home, weary from the day¡¯s demands, there she was, waiting for me in the lobby of my apartment complex, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a bottle of wine in hand. Maybe it was the nagging twinge of loneliness or just a longing for some genuine connection that had finally tipped the scales, prompting me to let my guard down and, well, spend the night with her.


    Wait a moment... On second thought, how does she know where I live? I don¡¯t recall giving her my home address...


    Fuck... David must¡¯ve given her my address... That freaking loser...


    Good thing she¡¯s here though... I¡¯m feeling kind of horny...


    ¡°Do you really want to know if I enjoyed our night together?¡±


    Becky nods eagerly, staring up at me with big puppy-like eyes.


    ¡°I¡¯ll only answer your question if you help me with something first,¡± I reply, slowly wrapping my arms around her back.


    ¡°What do you need help with?¡±


    I carefully pull her body closer to mine and bury my face in her neck. ¡°I want to fuck you again... I want to fuck you good...¡±


    ¡°You¡¯re a prick, you know that?¡± Becky¡¯s lips part into a grin as I pecker her neck with kisses.


    I shrug.


    The moment I pull back, Becky slides her body over mine, her mouth catching my jaw, nipping at the skin there. ¡°If I let you fuck me, will you take me out to dinner?¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know...¡±


    The moment the words leave my lips, Becky¡¯s kisses halt. Before I can even register what¡¯s happening, she sits up, crosses her arms, and glares down at me. ¡°If you promise to take me out to dinner later this week, I¡¯ll sleep with you right now. How does that sound?¡±


    ¡°Uh... I have a really busy schedule these next couple of days, you know...¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s not the answer I want to hear,¡± Becky says as she reaches down to massage my cock.


    Fucking hell, who the fuck does she think she is to make demands like this... She¡¯s fucking crazy... If I wasn¡¯t so fucking horny, I would¡¯ve kicked her out ages ago...


    Anyway, moving on to the matter at hand... If I say no, there¡¯s no way she¡¯s going to let me fuck her and to be honest, I¡¯m really, really horny right now... I really want to fuck, which means I need to come up with a good answer... A plausible answer...


    ¡°As I mentioned earlier, I¡¯m going to be very busy in these next couple of days.¡± I carefully place a hand on her back and slowly bring her body closer to mine. ¡°But, I can take you out to a nice restaurant to eat breakfast after we¡¯re done here... What do you say?¡±


    For a moment I see a hint of hesitance in her gaze, but the moment I slide one of my hands between her parted thighs I can tell that I¡¯ve won this debate.


    ¡°It better be the best breakfast I¡¯ve ever had,¡± Becky half whispers and moans, as her lips brush over the skin on my neck.


    ¡°...¡±


    ¡°Fancy seeing you here.¡± David sits on the seat next to mine and raises his hand to call over the bartender. ¡°So, you gonna tell me how it went?¡±


    I shake my head and pull my phone from my pocket to check the time. ¡°Didn¡¯t I tell you to stop giving people my address?¡±


    ¡°Did you?¡± David says, feigning ignorance.


    ¡°I did...¡±


    ¡°Well, that¡¯s too bad, ¡¯cause I forgot.¡±


    I gulp down the last bit of my cocktail and sigh. ¡°Well, if you do it again, I¡¯m going to tell your mom that you broke up with Melissa.¡±


    ¡°Wow...¡± David gawks, feigning a look of disbelief. ¡°I can¡¯t believe that you¡¯d stoop so low.¡±


    If it was any other day, I¡¯d be down to joke around. But not today, especially after dealing with an irritating Becky for the better part of the day. ¡°Fuck off... I¡¯m not in the mood for jokes today, David.¡±


    David looks at me, then back at the bartender to finish ordering his drinks. ¡°Why do I get the feeling that something else is going on here?¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    ¡°Is everything okay back home, Roman?¡±


    ¡°You do realize I live by myself, right?¡±


    ¡°I meant back home where your parents live.¡±


    ¡°You know I don¡¯t talk to them.¡± I clench my fists on my lap, forcing my mouth to close.


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    ¡°Very well then.¡± David hands the bartender a tip as he places his drink on the counter. ¡°So, why¡¯d you call me on a Sunday night?¡±


    ¡°I wanted to talk about the meeting.¡±


    ¡°What meeting?¡±


    I wave my hand in the air to call the bartender over. He gives me a quick nod to signal he¡¯ll be right with me as he finishes preparing a cocktail for a woman sitting on the other side of the bar. ¡°Tomorrow¡¯s meeting.¡±


    David sighs and takes a drink from his beer. ¡°I thought you didn¡¯t care about the meeting...¡±


    I shrug. ¡°Well, I¡¯ve had a change of heart.¡±


    ¡°You seem to be having a lot of those lately... Maybe you might have a change of heart with Becky, eh?¡± David chuckles, punching my arm playfully.


    ¡°Fuck off.¡± I turn my attention back to the bartender who¡¯s walking toward me.


    ¡°What can I get you?¡±


    ¡°Rum and Coke, please.¡±


    The young bartender smiles at me as he pulls an empty glass from a rack and fills it with ice.


    ¡°I don¡¯t get it... Becky is a nice girl, and she¡¯s hot as fuck... What isn¡¯t there to like?¡± David shakes his head as he takes another swig of his beer.


    Fucking hell... Here we go again...


    ¡°You know, if you keep treating women like disposable objects, you might actually end up alone and miserable.¡±


    ¡°I think you should mind your own damn business.¡± I hand a twenty-dollar bill to the bartender as he wordlessly slides my drink across the bar. ¡°You should be more like me, David... After all, you never see me asking or talking about your personal life...¡±


    David nods his head back and chuckles. ¡°That¡¯s because I¡¯m an open book. I always tell you everything... Now, you dragged me out of bed on a Sunday night, so I think this is the least you can do... Please explain to me why it¡¯s impossible for you to have any sort of real connection with women?¡±


    Fuck... I might need another drink if I¡¯m going to talk about this soppy shit...


    ¡°You know damn well why I don¡¯t trust women...¡±


    David shakes his head. ¡°No, actually I don¡¯t...¡±


    Fucking hell... Maybe texting him to come wasn¡¯t the best idea... This is what I get for being a moron...


    ¡°We both know that the only reason Becky¡¯s trying to get with me is because I¡¯m rich.¡±


    David shrugs. ¡°So what?¡±


    Is he really this fucking stupid? No wonder it took him six months to realize Melissa was cheating on him... What a dumbass...


    ¡°I didn¡¯t call you here for a therapy session...¡± I gulp down the rest of my drink and slam the glass down on the counter. ¡°The reason I called you here is because I want a run down about how things are going.¡±


    ¡°What a party pooper... All you care about is work, eh?¡± David sighs, his eyes turning to the television on the wall. ¡°So much for having a work-life balance...¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m the CEO of a company. Work-life balance doesn¡¯t apply to me... Now, tell me about tomorrow!¡±


    ¡°Yeah... Yeah...¡± David rests his chin on his palm. ¡°Is there anything specific you want to know, or just a rundown?¡±


    ¡°Just a rundown.¡±


    ¡°Fine. But I¡¯m going to need another drink.¡± David straightens his back and calls for the bartender. ¡°Please give me the best scotch you have.¡±


    ¡°Right away, sir.¡±


    I watch as the bartender quickly pours David a glass of scotch and slides it over. ¡°That¡¯ll be twenty-two dollars, sir.¡±


    ¡°Open a tab for me, I might be ordering more soon.¡±


    The bartender smiles and nods. ¡°Of course, sir.¡±


    David takes a sip of his scotch, his gaze trailing back to me. ¡°The agency we¡¯re merging with, StellarTalent, is a behemoth in the industry. We¡¯re talking A-list celebrities, top-tier artists, the whole shebang. This could catapult Biasbreak to unprecedented heights.¡±


    The name ¡®StellarTalent¡¯ rolls off his tongue with a sense of grandeur that sends a shiver down my spine. I contemplate the magnitude of what¡¯s at stake, the weight of the decision we¡¯re about to make.


    ¡°But, Roman,¡± David continues, leaning even closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, ¡°they won¡¯t take any prisoners. Negotiations will be brutal, and they¡¯ll be looking to seize control.¡±


    I lean back, digesting his words. StellarTalent¡¯s reputation precedes them¡ªruthless, cunning, and unapologetic in their pursuit of power. I¡¯ve always known that if we¡¯re to survive this merger, we need to be prepared to fight tooth and nail.


    David¡¯s eyes bore into mine. ¡°We need a game plan, Roman. We can¡¯t let them dictate the terms. We¡¯ve built Biasbreak from the ground up, and we can¡¯t afford to lose control now.¡±


    I clench my fists beneath the table, my determination solidifying. ¡°I¡¯m assuming you have a plan?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, I do...¡± David finishes his scotch, letting out a deep exhale. ¡°I have a plan... But it¡¯s going to be hard.¡±


    ¡°Hard?¡±


    David nods. ¡°It might take weeks, maybe months, maybe even a year or two... I¡¯m going to drag the negotiations for as long as I can until I¡¯ve secured our positions.¡±


    ¡°Very well, then. I¡¯ll leave this matter in your hands.¡±


    David¡¯s brows furrow, his concern evident. ¡°Does that mean you won¡¯t be attending the meeting tomorrow?¡±


    My phone vibrates in my pocket, a brief interruption that draws my attention away from David¡¯s query. I retrieve it and notice a text from a number I haven''t seen in a while. A pang of curiosity, mixed with a tinge of anxiety, grips me as I tap on it.


    Roman, we need to talk...


    For a moment, I¡¯m frozen in place, staring at those words on my screen. It¡¯s been over a year since I¡¯ve had any communication with my mother. What could she possibly want now? My thoughts swirl in a tempest of emotions¡ªdoubt, apprehension, and a flicker of anger.


    David clears his throat, jolting me back to the present. His concern deepens as he repeats his question, ¡°Roman, about tomorrow¡¯s meeting...¡±


    I shake my head, my focus still lingering on the enigmatic message. ¡°On second thought, David, I trust you can handle this on your own.¡±


    David sighs, his frustration evident. ¡°I was going to tell you this tomorrow, but I really need you to be at that meeting, Roman.¡±


    What the fuck is he on about? Why does he suddenly want me to go... What a headache... Maybe I shouldn¡¯t have shown interest in the first place. ¡°I¡¯m not a lawyer like you, David. What good would it do for me to be there?¡±


    David chuckles, his expression shifting from exasperation to amusement. ¡°Roman, you may not be a lawyer, but you¡¯re a legend.¡±


    Confusion clouds my features as I lean in, seeking an explanation. ¡°What are you rambling on about?¡±


    David leans closer, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. ¡°In the corporate world, people fear you because you¡¯re ruthless! Your presence alone carries weight, and it sends a clear message that we won¡¯t back down.¡±


    Oh, I see where he¡¯s going with this...


    ¡°So, you want me to show up in order to send a message?¡±


    David claps his hands together with a nod, a satisfied smile crossing his lips. ¡°Exactly, Roman! We need to show them that we¡¯re not to be trifled with. Your presence will be a statement!¡±


    I release a resigned sigh, my resolve wavering once again. ¡°You know, David, you have a way of being incredibly convincing. But I can see through it... I¡¯m not going!¡±


    David¡¯s face falls, a mixture of exasperation and disappointment. ¡°Roman, come on, you have to be there! Even if it¡¯s just for a short while.¡±


    ¡°Not happening.¡±


    ¡°If you go, I¡¯ll let you borrow my Aston Martin for a week!¡±


    ¡°Three months,¡± I counter.


    David shakes his head. ¡°One month!¡±


    I lean back in my chair, fingers drumming a restless rhythm on the tabletop. ¡°Fine, I¡¯ll go, but only for the first couple of minutes.¡±


    David¡¯s eyes light up with relief, his persuasive skills having won the day. ¡°That¡¯s all we need, Roman. Trust me, this merger is our golden opportunity, and your presence will ensure we seize it.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a deal, then.¡±


    ¡°Yes, it is!¡±


    The air hangs heavy with the weight of our agreement, and I sense my exhaustion beginning to kick in as I check my phone for the time. ¡°It¡¯s getting late, David..¡±


    David chuckles. ¡°No shit...¡±


    I stretch out my arm, gesturing for him to hand something over. At first, he pretends not to understand, raising an eyebrow playfully, but then he sighs in defeat, handing over the keys to his Aston Martin.


    ¡°If you like my car so much, maybe you should buy one for yourself,¡± he teases.


    I chuckle at his remark. ¡°David, there are only ten of these cars in the world, and if it weren¡¯t for you, one of them would¡¯ve been mine.¡±


    David raises his middle finger, playfully jesting. ¡°How will I get home without a car?!¡±


    I snort in response, standing up from my seat and patting him on the back. ¡°You¡¯ll figure it out. After all, you¡¯re a millionaire!"


    "Are you serious?!"


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    I playfully wink at him as I step into the elevator. "YEP!"


    "Fuck you!" I hear him say just before the elevator doors close.


    As the elevator starts its descent, I can¡¯t help but stare at the car keys in my hands. My chest is buzzing with excitement. The mere sight of those keys represents not just access to an extraordinary beast but also the lengths David was willing to go to persuade me. He must''ve been truly desperate to let me borrow a three-million-dollar vehicle.


    What a suck-up...


    The elevator doors part, revealing the underground parking lot, and my eyes are instantly drawn to a marvel of modern engineering. It''s an Aston Martin that gleams like a precious gem in the soft ambient light. A grin tugs at my lips as I approach it.


    Now, that is what I call a car!!!


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    I unlock the car door and slide into the driver''s seat, easing myself into the embrace of the plush leather upholstery. ¡°Can¡¯t believe it¡¯s been six months since he bought this car and I still haven¡¯t driven it... Guess I better make the best out of it for the next thirty days...¡±


    I ignite the engine, and the car responds with a powerful roar that echoes through the underground parking lot. The dashboard lights up with a mesmerizing display of colors, a blend of artistry and technology that mirrors the night outside.


    As I press my foot on the gas pedal, the Aston Martin glides smoothly out of the parking lot. The steering is incredibly responsive, and I can sense the raw power coursing through the vehicle. It¡¯s like a dream come true¡ªan exhilarating experience that leaves bystanders in awe as the car glides by, turning heads and eliciting admiration.


    As I navigate the city streets in the beautiful silver beast, nightfall begins to envelop the world around me. The city lights twinkle like distant stars, and the engine¡¯s gentle purr serves as a soothing soundtrack to my thoughts.


    The notification from my mother¡¯s text message lingers in my mind, an uninvited guest at the forefront of my thoughts. Memories of our last encounter flood my consciousness, replaying like a relentless movie reel. The fiery argument, the harsh words exchanged, and my dramatic exit from a restaurant¡ªall fueled by the revelation that she was dating a man whose name I¡¯ve intentionally purged from my memory.


    Fuck... What was his name again? Was it Albert? Arthur? Aiden perhaps?


    Since that argument, our contact has been sporadic at best, and it¡¯s been months since I last heard from her. I can¡¯t help but wonder why she¡¯s chosen now to reach out. A sense of unease gnaws at me, a feeling that something is amiss. I¡¯ve learned to trust my instincts, and they¡¯re telling me this isn¡¯t just a casual message.


    What could she possibly want to talk to me about? Didn¡¯t I tell her to fuck off and leave me alone?


    Maybe she doesn¡¯t understand what the word ¡°fuck off¡± means... I probably should¡¯ve reiterated it slowly...


    Regardless... All I know is that if I¡¯d listened to my guts earlier in my life, I would have avoided enormous amounts of pain... I would have never fallen for... For her...


    Snap out of it, you douche... Stop thinking about her!


    Realizing that I¡¯m only a couple of minutes away from my house, I shake my head, as if physically dispelling those negative thoughts. I need to stay focused. I detest distractions, especially the frivolous ones. Whatever my mother wants to discuss will have to wait; I have far more pressing matters to attend to. I should be completely focused on the imminent meeting that could shape the future of my company.


    With renewed determination, I navigate the final stretch of my journey home. The challenges that await me, both in the corporate world and in the cryptic message from my estranged mother, will be confronted head-on. For now, I relegate her unsettling message to the back of my mind, eager to address it at a more convenient time.

 Chapter 3 – Schemes

    "What the actual fuck!" I slam my foot on the brakes as I pull up to the main entrance of the building.


    A throng of reporters has converged in the front lobby, cameras clicking and flashing like an erratic light show. Their attention is undeniably focused on my car, capturing it from every angle as if I''m the latest celebrity to arrive on the red carpet.


    I let out an exasperated sigh, realizing that driving the Aston Martin might not have been the wisest decision. Just as I''m mulling over the unwanted attention, my phone vibrates in my pocket.


    I retrieve my phone and find a message from Veronica, my assistant. Her text advises me to be cautious on my way to work¡ªan odd warning that sets my senses on high alert.


    Something''s wrong!


    I dial Veronica''s number, and she answers immediately, her tone laced with concern. "Where are you?"


    Suppressing my growing frustration, I respond, "I''m right outside the building. What the fuck is going on?"


    Veronica gets straight to the point, her voice tight with gravity. "The news has been leaked."


    The weight of her words sinks in. "Leaked? What news?"


    "The news of the merger."


    My heart quickens as I absorb the implications. Our merger, a confidential and strategic move that was supposed to be shrouded in secrecy, has somehow found its way into the public eye. The consequences of this breach are incalculable. I run a hand through my hair, the frustration and concern mounting with each passing moment.


    "How bad is it?"


    "All I can say is-"


    "Stop!" I yell before she can finish her sentence. "Don''t say anything... I need a second..."


    I stay quiet for a moment and shut my eyes, taking a moment to calm my nerves. I take a deep breath and slowly exhale, hoping to release the tension that''s building on my shoulders.


    "Okay, talk," I instruct.


    "I was going to say that believe it or not, our stock prices have skyrocketed in the last seven hours."


    "Have they?"


    "Yes, they have... When you get to your office, David can give you a brief thorough run-through."


    I nod in agreement. "Tell him to meet me in my office. I''m coming up right now."


    "Will do..."


    As the line goes silent, I take another deep breath, bracing myself for the imminent press ambush that awaits me outside.


    Don''t talk... Don''t smile... And keep your eyes on the floor... Just keep walking until you''re safe.


    SILENCE.


    "Let''s get this over with..." I pocket my phone and swing open the car door. Immediately, I''m flanked by the ever-present security detail, a silent escort to the front doors of the monumental corporate fortress.


    The reporters gathered outside the building seize the moment as I step out of the car, their cameras capturing every detail. A cacophony of questions and comments fills the air, like a swarm of relentless insects buzzing around.


    "Mr. Pierce, can you confirm the merger rumors?"


    "Are you here to address the leaks, Mr. Pierce?"


    "Roman, how will this affect your company''s future?"


    Ignoring the barrage, I maintain my focus and stride confidently toward the front entrance. Security forms a protective barrier, their presence a constant reminder of the weight of my responsibilities.


    We push through the wave of reporters, my ears inundated with the relentless barrage of inquiries. My attention wavers for a moment as I hear them speculating about the merger, weaving stories from incomplete threads of information.


    Once past the press gauntlet, I breathe a sigh of relief and continue into the lobby. With each step, I can feel the mounting pressure of the situation. Instead of my usual left turn towards the standard elevators, I proceed straight ahead to the VIP elevator, a fixture I had installed two years ago for moments precisely like today.


    Inside the elevator, my fingers fidget nervously as I wait for the doors to part and reveal the chaos that lies on the upper floors. The anticipation gnaws at me, and I can''t help but run through various scenarios in my mind, mentally preparing for what awaits on the main floor. This moment carries an unusual weight, a sense of urgency that I can''t shake.


    As the doors slowly begin to separate, I take a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. With each passing second, the tension mounts, and I brace myself for the whirlwind of activity that surely awaits me outside.


    As the elevator doors part, the first sight that greets me is Veronica, standing there like a beacon of composure amidst the chaos. Her long, dark hair is tied in a ponytail exuding an innate beauty that''s matched only by her unwavering poise and confident demeanor.


    A warm smile graces her lips as she greets me. "Good morning, sir. How was your weekend?"


    Ignoring her question, I go straight to the point. "Where''s David?"


    Veronica''s expression shifts subtly, a flicker of concern passing through her eyes. "He''s waiting for you in your office."


    "Good... Follow me."


    As Veronica and I walk through the bustling newsroom, she begins to provide a rapid-fire rundown of the morning''s developments. Her voice carries a sense of urgency, and I absorb the information as we make our way to my office.


    "Sir, the news about the merger leaked early this morning," she informs me, her tone professional and composed despite the chaos around us. "Reporters have been camped outside the building since dawn, waiting for any statement. Our social media channels are buzzing with speculation."


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    As we continue through the maze of desks and bustling journalists, Veronica''s voice remains a constant stream of updates. She mentions the latest headlines, the growing anticipation in the city, and the pressure building on our team to address the situation.


    I can''t help but marvel at how confidently she navigates the fast-paced environment, delivering concise and articulate reports as we move closer to my office. Memories of her initial days as a shy intern contrast sharply with the poised professional she has become.


    Two years ago, when I first crossed paths with her, I could never have imagined that she would evolve into such a crucial cornerstone of my company. While the outside world often perceived me as the sole orchestrator of our operations, the truth was, without her, there would be no show to run.


    As we approach the door to my office, Veronica concludes her update. "That''s the current state of affairs, sir. We have a meeting scheduled with the legal team in an hour to discuss our next plan of action."


    "When is our meeting with the team from Stellar?"


    Veronica checks her watch. "We''ll be meeting them in about three hours, for lunch."


    "We''re meeting them for lunch?!"


    Veronica nods.


    "Why didn''t I know this!? Who''s idea was this?!"


    "It was David''s idea, sir."


    Fucker... Why does he never run anything past me these days... Is it really that hard to send me a text message?


    Fucking prick...


    I nod in acknowledgment, appreciating her diligence. "Thank you, Veronica. Get the conference room ready, please... And remind me to look into tightening our security protocols."


    With a quick nod, she acknowledges my instructions and rushes back down the corridor.


    All right... David is waiting for me... Let''s see what''s really happening here!


    As I step into my office, the sight that greets me is far from the serenity I had hoped for. David lounges comfortably in my chair, feet nonchalantly propped up on my meticulously organized desk. My fists clench instinctively, and I swiftly shut the door behind me.


    Clearing my throat, I make my presence known. "What in the world do you think you''re doing in my chair?" My tone is firm, bordering on irritation. His sharp gaze meets mine, and he hastily raises his arms in surrender, his face contorting into a sheepish grin.


    "Hey there, Roman," he says, his voice laced with a playful tone. "Just keeping your chair warm for you, you know?"


    Should I punch him? Maybe that will get him to stop sitting at my desk...


    Before I can reach my desk, he''s already sprung from the chair, relocating to the couch with the grace of a circus acrobat.


    A low curse escapes my lips as I pull out a disinfectant wipe from my drawer. With deliberate care, I clean the spot on my desk where David rested his feet, silently lamenting the intrusion on my carefully maintained space. Once the task is complete, I toss the used wipe into the garbage, smoothing out my suit with a sigh before taking my seat behind the desk.


    A heavy, tense silence settles upon the room as David and I lock gazes. Just as I prepare to voice my grievances, he beats me to it.


    "Don''t worry, bro," David begins, his tone carrying an air of confidence. "I''ve got this under control."


    "Do you?" I lean back in my chair, the tension between us not yet dissipating. Despite his brash demeanor and cavalier attitude, I can''t deny that David has a way of managing crises effectively. I contemplate his words, silently acknowledging that perhaps I should give him the chance to elaborate.


    "Alright, David," I finally concede, my voice measured. "Let''s hear what you''ve got."


    "It was me... I did it!"


    I shake my head in confusion. "I''m not following what you''re saying?"


    David chuckles. "I was the one who leaked news of our merger."


    Wait, what?!


    "E-Explain y-yourself..." I clasp my hands together in an attempt to calm my nerves. If he doesn''t start talking soon... I''m going to do something... Something really bad...


    "We both know that the only reason Stellar agreed to negotiate a merger is because of the bad press they''ve been getting lately with the whole Jasmine scandal... You still with me?"


    Breath in... Breath out...


    Breath in... Breath out...


    I nod but remain quiet. I''m so angry at David, that I''m sure nothing good will come from me speaking...


    "Good... Because of the scandal, their stock prices have plummeted in these last couple of months. Despite that fact, they still have leverage over us if we merge because of the size of their company. In order to secure our positions, I figured the best thing to do was to make this go public and have the press fuck with them... Now that the world knows what''s happening, they''ll be less inclined to pull out of the negotiations... In fact, they''re probably going to try to rush these negotiations, which gives us the chance to pull ahead..."


    I lean back in my chair and cross my arms. "You''re cornering them?"


    "Yes, I am! I''m cornering them and soon, Stellar is going to be ours... Fully ours." David crosses his legs and flashes me a wink.


    "If the only leverage you have is sending the hounds to get them, I wouldn''t call it real leverage..."


    "You''re right." David practically leaps out of the couch and tosses me his phone. "But this is!"


    "What''s this?" I say, staring at his phone screen.


    "Read it..."


    The glow of David''s phone screen casts an eerie light in the dimly lit office. As I glance over, my eyes catch a glimpse of something that sends a shockwave through me¡ªa confirmation of stock ownership nestled within an email he''s just opened.


    My eyes widen in disbelief, and I can''t help but look up at David, my heart racing. The words I''m about to utter are caught in my throat, a mix of surprise and concern threatening to spill out. "What... What happened to our long war battle plan...the one we discussed last night?"


    "That plan was too complicated," he snorts, his voice laced with an underlying confidence. "I found a simpler way to win the war."


    I furrow my brow, trying to make sense of his cryptic words. His explanation begins to unfold as he details how he strategically cornered Stellar, the rival company, and orchestrated a media frenzy to drive down their stock prices. It was a calculated move, one that exploited the weaknesses of our adversary.


    With each word he utters, the pieces of the puzzle slot into place. I realize that David had baited Stellar, waiting patiently until their shares plummeted to a critical low point. It was at that moment that he had struck, acquiring a substantial chunk of the company''s shares with ruthless efficiency.


    My voice trembles with astonishment as I inquire about the extent of his acquisition. "How many shares did you manage to secure?"


    A self-satisfied grin tugs at the corners of David''s lips as he revels in his audacious triumph. "Thirty-three percent," he declares, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of pride and ambition.


    I find myself at a loss for words, my mind struggling to comprehend the enormity of what David has achieved. It''s a precarious balance of admiration and fear that courses through me. While I can''t help but acknowledge the brilliance of his tactics, I also grapple with the unsettling realization of just how far he''s willing to go to achieve his goals.


    What am I even thinking?!? Not his goals... Our goals... We started this together and we''re finishing this together.


    "So, you''re telling me that in just a few hours you managed to take over one the largest agencies in the world?!"


    "Twelve hours to be precise... Unfortunately, I didn''t get a wink of sleep last night."


    "Oh shit..." I chuckle. "Try to get some sleep if you can..."


    David shakes his head. "No, not yet... We have an important lunch to attend."


    "Fuck," I say, leaning back into my chair. "I totally forgot Veronica mentioned that... Wait, what''s the point of that lunch if we''ve already acquired Stellar?"


    "Never heard of the word surrender?"


    "Huh?"


    David stands up and grabs his phone from my desk. "The reason I set up a lunch is because we''re going to go and accept their surrender. It''s the least we can do after royally fucking them, right?"


    "I guess..." I get up from my chair and walk over to the window. As I gaze down below, I can still make out a large crowd of reporters waiting for me outside.


    "I promised my mom I''d call her today, so... See you at lunch?" David asks as he begins to head out of my office.


    "Wait," I say, just before he reaches the door. "Who helped you?"


    David turns around, his lips slowly curling into a grin. "What do you mean?"


    "I know you''re a badass, but why do I get the feeling someone helped you do this... I mean, pulling off something like this by yourself is impossible..."


    "I''ve always known you''re one smart bastard." David opens the door to my office, takes a step, and halts. "You''re right... Someone helped me pull this off... I''ll tell you all about her during lunch."


    Her?!?


    Before I can ask anything else, the door closes shut and I''m left alone to think.

 Chapter 4 – The Meeting

    "David," I begin, my voice betraying a hint of skepticism, "where did you say you met this girl?"


    David lowers his phone, the glow of its screen casting shadows across his face as he lets out a sigh. "How many times do I have to tell you... I met her at a party!"


    "Why am I not surprised..." There''s a strange sense of predictability to this revelation as if it''s merely an extension of the David I''ve come to know. He responds to my reaction with a snort, undeterred by my less-than-enthusiastic response.


    Turning my gaze away from him, I glance out the window and recognize the intersection we''re crossing. If my memory serves, we should be at the restaurant in about five minutes.


    "Her name?" I inquire, my curiosity getting the better of me.


    "Grace," he reveals, his voice laced with a sense of appreciation.


    Nodding slowly, I reach for a glass of water, taking a sip as I process the information. My next question, although lighthearted, is one I can''t resist asking. "Is she hot?"


    A deep, genuine chuckle escapes from David, and he places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Roman, she''s one of the hottest girls I''ve ever seen... I mean, when you see her you''re going to lose your mind..."


    The reply amuses me, and I can''t help but chuckle in response. However, my curiosity still lingers, and I press on. "So, have you...you know, been with her?"


    David''s sigh is accompanied by a thoughtful run of his hand through his hair. He shakes his head, a hint of frustration in his expression. "Not yet," he confesses, his tone filled with an air of expectancy, "but it''s bound to happen."


    "Is it?"


    "I think it is... I mean if she didn''t like me, why''d she help me pull such a crazy stunt, right?"


    As I reluctantly concede to David''s narrative, a nagging suspicion gnaws at the corners of my mind. The story of a coincidental encounter at a random party leading to an alliance aimed at hijacking a major corporation is, quite frankly, too unbelievable. Such occurrences, at least in the world I inhabit, are nothing short of fantasy. Skepticism brews within me, casting a shadow of doubt over David''s intentions. The thought nags at me, and I can''t shake the feeling of unease.


    "George, how far are we from the restaurant?" David asks, leaning toward the driver''s seat.


    George promptly responds, keeping his eyes on the road. "We''re about three minutes away from our destination, sir."


    "That''s what I like to hear, George," he declares, patting our driver on the back. "I''ll make sure to leave you with one big juicy tip!"


    "That''s not necessary, sir..."


    David chuckles, waving off George''s politeness. "Don''t worry, George... I insist."


    "Well then thank you, sir."


    As David reclines into his seat once more, I seize the opportunity to seek clarification. "You mentioned she''s a lawyer, right?" My question hangs in the air, demanding a response.


    David affirms my inquiry with a nod. "That''s what I''m saying, dude! Not only is she hot, but she''s also super smart!"


    <div>


    <div>


    Before I get the chance to slap some sense into him, the SUV comes to an abrupt stop, and George announces our arrival at the restaurant.


    David springs into action, his excitement palpable as he readies himself to exit the vehicle. The vehicle''s engine hums to a quiet idle as he turns to me, a confident grin on his face. "Before I forget, I wanted to let you know that I promised the girl a permanent position at our company..."


    Wait, what?!?


    My eyebrows knit together in anger as I watch David exit the car. "You did what!?!"


    "I told her that if we pulled this off, she''d have a job waiting for her in our company," he confesses, his tone hinting at both pride and audacity.


    I let out a heavy sigh, struggling to contain my frustration. "Are you fucking stupid or what? We can''t just hand out jobs like candy!"


    David snorts in response, seemingly unfazed by my reproach.


    "Do you have any idea what you''ve done?!"


    "Relax, Roman," he retorts, patting me on the shoulder that belies the gravity of our situation. "Trust me, it''ll be worth it in the end. After all, the bet paid off, right?"


    As David strides away toward the entrance of the restaurant, I remain seated for a moment, pondering the implications of his actions. I honestly can''t believe he did something so stupid... If word about this got out, we''d find ourselves dealing with seriously dangerous lawsuits. Lawsuits that could quite literally fuck our entire operation.


    As soon as I''m out of here, I''m going to pour all of my resources and find out what else that lunatic''s been up to... If he won''t cover his tracks to keep us safe, I''ll have to do the dirty work... There''s no way I''m going down for his stupidity...


    As I stand on the side of the sidewalk, lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, I hear the faint closing of a car door followed by the rhythmic tapping of heels approaching. My reverie is interrupted as I turn to see Veronica drawing near.


    Our gazes meet, and her perfectly arched brows ascend in a silent query, prompting her to voice her curiosity. "Sir, why are you standing outside?"


    I shrug nonchalantly, masking the storm of emotions beneath my calm exterior. "Just thinking about something."


    Veronica leans in closer, her eyes narrowing slightly as she seeks clarity. "Thinking about what?"


    A half-chuckle escapes me, masking the genuine anger that''s churning in my stomach. "Well," I begin, my tone light but my intentions far from it, "I''ve come to the conclusion that I''d rather ride in the car with you next time," I confess, my gaze momentarily flickering with the rage I feel toward David.


    Her lips curl into a faint smile at my jest, the weight of my true sentiments unbeknownst to her. "I''d be delighted," she replies, her voice warm and reassuring.


    We share a brief moment of connection before I suggest that we head inside, offering her the lead as a gesture of courtesy. The restaurant''s interior greets us with an air of sophistication, Japanese aesthetics blending seamlessly with modern luxury.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "This place is beautiful," Veronica smiles, as the door closes behind us.


    "It sure is."


    "Welcome to Omakaze!"


    I turn just in time to see a young waitress, impeccably dressed in her uniform, glide toward us with an air of grace. Her demeanor is poised, and with a courteous bow, she addresses us. "Good evening, sir, ma''am. Your party is already upstairs in our lounge," her delicate hand gestures us toward a transparent staircase, which, in its ethereal elegance, beckons us to ascend.


    With measured politeness, I thank her for her guidance while maintaining an air of curiosity. "Could you please direct me to the nearest restroom?"


    Even though a couple of minutes have passed, I''m still yearning for some solitude and a chance to collect my thoughts. The prospect of freshening up is completely necessary. If I don''t calm down before the meeting, the next time I see David, I''ll be on top of him, ramming his face with my elbow...


    The waitress responds with a nod of understanding, her delicate hand guiding me toward the facilities. "Of course, sir," she replies, her voice carrying the same grace as her demeanor. "You''ll find the men''s restroom at the far end of the corridor, the last door on your right."


    "Thank you."


    Just as I start to head toward the corridor I feel a soft touch land on my back.


    "Would you like me to wait for you?" Veronica offers, her consideration a soothing balm for my conflicted emotions.


    I can''t help but return her kindness with a small, genuine smile. "Thank you, Veronica. But please, go ahead and let the others know I''ll join them shortly."


    "As you say, sir."


    With that, I watch her graceful ascent up the staircase, her silhouette fading against the ethereal glow of the restaurant''s interior. As I begin my solitary journey down the corridor, the distant murmur of conversation, clinking glasses, and soft jazz music fade into the air.


    Thump.


    Thump.


    Thump.


    The moment I step into the restroom, I''m drawn to the gleaming chrome faucet. Without hesitation, I twist the handle, and the pristine, cold water rushes out in a clear, steady stream. As I cup my hands under the icy flow, I bring them to my face, the shock of cold water a sharp contrast to the seething emotions that have been simmering within me.


    In the reflection of the mirror above the sink, I scrutinize my appearance. I''m clad in a sleek black suit, with no tie to restrict my neck, and my hair is slicked back with meticulous precision. As I gaze at my reflection, a rare sense of pride swells within me...


    Ten years ago, I was a different person, a teenager grappling with stupid insecurities. I had a face marred by acne and a body laden with excess weight. I was a loser... Back then, I allowed just about anyone to trample over me, to undermine my worth. I was weak, and I had no way of defending myself...


    Now, a decade later, I stand before this mirror as someone unrecognizable¡ªmy skin pristine, my physique sculpted, and my attire a testament to success. Each stitch in my fifteen-thousand-dollar suit is a reminder of the blood and sweat I''ve poured. I''ve emerged from the crucible of life, stronger and more resilient than I ever thought possible. No longer the loser I once was, I''ve become an untouchable, impenetrable force... I revel in the knowledge that nobody will ever manipulate or mistreat me again.


    As I bask in this moment of self-assured satisfaction, I suddenly recall the reason for my anger¡ªDavid...


    I shake my head, clearing my thoughts of lingering anger, and proceed to rinse my face once more. The water refreshes me, both physically and mentally, preparing me to face whatever challenges lie ahead.


    "I''ll deal with that horny fuck later..."


    Exiting the restroom, I make my way down the corridor, adjusting my suit. My irritation with David now feels like a distant memory, replaced by a renewed sense of determination and confidence.


    As I climb up the last case of stairs, my eyes sweep over the impressive spectacle that''s been put in place. At a grand table, elegantly set and adorned with pristine white linen, I spot the familiar faces of Veronica and David. My gaze traverses further, and I notice the eclectic mix of individuals who are also part of this meeting. For a moment, I am taken aback, as I don''t recognize most of them. The solemnity of their expressions hints at the significance of this gathering. Even from this distance, I can see the disdain glowering in some of their gazes.


    Guess not everyone is pleased to be here...


    To be completely frank, I don''t blame them. If someone stole my company from under me, I''d also be fucking enraged... Unfortunately, that''s how this game works. You win some, and you lose some...


    As I approach the glass door that leads to the lounge, my hand grips the handle, ready to step inside. But then, as if the fates have chosen this very moment to test me, my world shudders to a halt.


    It can''t be... This isn''t possible...


    My heart lurches uncomfortably within my chest, and I''m acutely aware of a sudden constriction in my throat.


    For a fleeting moment, I''m locked in a trance, my gaze held captive by an unmistakable set of blonde hair, the very essence of which is etched indelibly in the deepest recesses of my memory. It''s as if the world around me dissolves into insignificance, leaving only this woman and her unique hair, a beacon that defies time and reason.


    I stumble back, my trembling hand slipping from the door handle. I rub my eyes, in an attempt to dispel the illusion, but it fails.


    Wake the fuck up! Stop imagining things!


    I close my eyes once more and open them, but nothing has changed. Even though I can''t see her face, there''s no mistaking that set of hair. It''s Madeleine. She''s here...


    "What the actual fuck..." I run my hand through my hair, desperately trying to decipher how this is all possible. Last I heard, she had embraced a life far from the city, finding her calling as a school teacher in her hometown.


    If that''s the case, why the fuck is a school teacher here?!


    SILENCE.


    Guess, there''s only one way to find out...


    Summoning every ounce of fortitude I can muster, I draw in a deep breath, exhaling slowly as if to rid myself of the perplexing unease growing in my chest.


    The moment I step inside, the ambiance of chatter that had previously filled the room begins to lose its vivacity. Conversations dim, and curious eyes pivot toward me. However, amid this spectacle of turning heads and arched brows, there''s one notable exception¡ªshe remains wholly engrossed in whatever conversation has ensnared her attention.


    Who the fuck is she talking to?


    Ah... I see... She''s talking to David...


    Noticing my approach, David''s eyes widen as his lips curl into a grin. Standing up, he clasps his hands together, waving me over. "What the hell took you so long?"


    For an ephemeral moment, I''m caught in a disconcerting inertia, my thoughts and emotions tangled in a web of uncertainty. "I had to take a call... Sorry, I took so long."


    David chuckles and waves off my apology. "It''s fine..."


    Before I get the chance to sneak a glance at the woman''s face, David walks to the front of the table and clears his throat. "Without further ado, ladies and gentlemen, let me introduce you to none other than the CEO of Bias Break Media, Roman Pierce!"


    The moment the words leave David''s mouth, I''m swamped with salutes from all over the room.


    "Nice to meet you..."


    "I''ve been looking forward to meeting you..."


    "We''re so excited about this merger..."


    The names of the people seated around the table remain a muddled blur as I acknowledge the polite nods and greetings with a forced smile. After all, there''s only one person I''m interested in talking to...


    "Roman, come over here," David''s voice beckons me with a sense of intrigue that tugs at the edges of my curiosity. "There''s someone I want you to meet!"


    As the woman with cascading blonde hair rises from her seat and slowly turns to face me, my heart lurches with a mixture of emotions I can''t quite put into words. The world momentarily blurs as a shocking realization crashes over me like a relentless wave. It''s not Madeleine. It''s her younger sister, Natalie!!!


    David''s voice resonates with a hint of pride as he completes his introduction, "Roman, allow me to introduce you to Grace."


    So, she''s using her middle name... How peculiar...


    As my eyes reluctantly tear away from the enchanting vision of Natalie''s face, I turn my attention to David who''s smiling like a kid on Christmas. The smirk etched across his face could quite literally eclipse the sun... To be frank, I don''t think I''ve ever seen him this excited over a girl...


    As my eyes linger back to Natalie, a cascade of memories tumbles forth, like an old photo album unfurling before me. The portrait of Natalie before me defies the passage of time. Though we once shared the same space, memories of the girl with braces and oversized glasses flood my mind. A sense of wonder washes over me at the transformation.


    It''s been at least ten years since I last saw her... I think she was thirteen... No fourteen... On second thought, I think she was fifteen years old, the last time I saw her...


    Natalie''s smile, elegant and beguiling, reaches her hazel eyes. With a subtle glint, she stretches her hand towards me. "It''s a pleasure to meet you, Roman. David''s spoken quite highly of you."


    I accept her handshake, my tone genial and welcoming, even as my mind churns with the question of why she conceals our shared history. Regardless, part of me is eager to see how this all plays out...


    "Likewise, Grace," I respond, choosing to follow her lead in maintaining the charade, at least for now. Natalie, aware of my unspoken dilemma, holds my gaze for a moment longer, her eyes betraying a flicker of recognition and silent understanding.

 Chapter 5 - Finishing Touch

    David places a folder on the table, the leather cover thumping softly against the polished wood. He nudges it across the surface, his tone light but firm, "Take a look at the folder, Jason. I don''t usually give out lifeboats, but I''m feeling rather generous today."


    I shift in my chair, casting a sidelong glance at Jason, who remains unflinchingly composed. If what I''ve heard is true, Jason Brooks, the current CEO of StellarTalent, isn''t one to back down easily.


    Even though I can tell he''s trying his best to remain calm, I can tell Jason''s on the verge of breaking. His heavy breathing and laser-like focus on David hint at the boiling turmoil beneath his cold exterior.


    "You have no idea who you''re dealing with," Jason finally speaks, the threat in his voice unmistakable. "I''m not someone you want to piss off... I have friends in very high places..."


    Ignoring his threats, David redirects his gaze to the man seated beside Jason, a middle-aged bald man who exudes an air of weary professionalism. "I''m going to guess you''re his lawyer... I think at the very least, you should check out what I''m offering. Let''s not allow your client''s ego to stand in the way of opportunity."


    The bald lawyer hesitates for a moment, his hand quivering inches above the folder''s clasp. He clears his throat nervously and glances at Jason. "Mr. Brooks, it might be prudent to see what''s inside. We owe it to ourselves, wouldn''t you say?"


    "..."


    There''s a palpable reluctance in the air as the lawyer tentatively moves to reach for the folder, but his progress is abruptly halted. Jason seizes him by the collar, pulling him close. "If you touch that fucking folder, I''ll personally make sure you lose your job..."


    My own tension rises as I watch the scene unfold. The dynamics at play are clear. Loyalty clashes with practicality. Trust collides with ambition.


    After a minute or so of silence, the lawyer relents and leans back into his chair. "If my client doesn''t want to settle, then there''s nothing I can do about it..."


    David sighs and shakes his head. "Why are you being a pain in the ass, Jason... Just open the damn folder!"


    "I''m not giving up that easily," Jason snaps back, his defiance unwavering as he turns his attention back on David. "If you think I''m going to let you morons steal my company, you got something else coming your way..."


    "Just... Just please take a look!"


    "Nope... No fucking way, mate..."


    Impatience bubbles within me as the conversation meanders on, far past its expiration date. With an exasperated snort, I decide it''s high time to cut through the endless deliberations.


    "Jason," I interject, my voice steady but tinged with impatience, "stop acting like there''s more to this fight when it''s already over."


    "What did you just say?!"


    "I''m telling you that it''s over... You fucking lost!"


    "Fuck y-"


    "Sign these papers," I say, cutting him off, my tone leaving no room for negotiation, "or you''ll be bankrupt by the end of this week!"


    Jason''s immediate response is visceral, his fist striking the table with a force that reverberates through the room. He leans forward, his anger palpable as he hurls accusations my way. "Who do you think you are!? How dare you talk to me like that?!"


    My chuckle, born of both amusement and an air of irritation, cuts through his tirade. With a casual, almost careless tone, I lay bare the trump card I wasn''t planning to use. "I know that you took out a loan a few months ago when your agency was on the brink of bankruptcy... Do your lawyers know about that? What about the members of your board? What about the press? Do they know about the loan?"


    The color drains from Jason''s face as he wilts beneath the weight of reality. His shoulders slump, the once-confident executive now reduced to a man facing a harsh reckoning. Finally, the words stumble out of his mouth, his voice laced with anxiety and uncertainty. "How... How did you find out about that?"


    "You see, I also have friends in high places. And whether you believe it or not, they like me more than they like you."


    "..."


    Noticing the look of defeat spreading over his face, I decide it''s time to wrap things up. My intention wasn''t to expose him but to get this damn meeting over and done with. "I didn''t come here to destroy or expose you, Jason. I am here because we''re all businessmen and we all live by a code... Well, at least I do... I know you''re angry, and I also realize that your pride might be hurt, but for just this once, open the damn folder and read what we''re offering you... I promise that you''ll have more than enough money to live comfortably for the rest of your life."


    "..."


    The room holds its breath, a heavy silence descending upon us all. I watch intently as Jason, the focal point of this high-stakes drama, suddenly leans forward, his hand reaching for the folder that could determine the fate of his agency.


    Around us, the restaurant lounge becomes a theater of unspoken tension. Lawyers and executives, strangers only a few minutes ago, now united by the prospect of an acquisition, fix their gaze on Jason. Time slows, each passing second amplifying the weight of the situation.


    Minutes, which seem like hours, pass in silence as Jason methodically peruses the documents that outline his agency''s future. The rustle of paper seems deafening amidst the hush that hangs in the air.


    Finally, the folder returns to the table with a soft thud. All eyes remain on Jason. The weight of his decision is apparent, and we collectively hold our breath as he holds out his hand.


    "May I have a pen, please?" Jason''s voice breaks the silence, his request punctuating the room''s stillness.


    Jason''s lawyer, alert to his needs, rushes to provide him with the tool that will seal this fateful deal. The atmosphere becomes almost suffocating as we bear witness to the final act of this acquisition. Pen meets paper, and Jason signs his agency away, sealing its fate.


    As he straightens his tie, a tension that has gripped the room is released, like the exhalation of a collective breath held for far too long. Jason turns toward us, his expression a blend of resignation and professionalism. "If I said it was a pleasure meeting you both, I''d be lying... I hope we never meet again."


    David nods in acknowledgment. "We appreciate your cooperation, Jason."


    "HMPH...I''ll be taking my leave now... Bernard, let''s go!"


    "Yes, of course!"


    The sound of receding footsteps marks their departure, and as Jason and his lawyer exit the lounge, their footsteps echo down the stairs.


    The remaining lawyers and executives exchange furtive glances, their expressions a mix of relief and wariness. Uncertainty lingers in the air, and I can sense the tension slowly dispersing.


    With a graceful rise from his chair, David elevates his wine glass, the crystal catching the ambient light. His warm, confident smile is a beacon of reassurance in the midst of the lingering unease.


    "Friends," David begins, his voice carrying across the room with an air of camaraderie, "we''ve just witnessed a turning point in our company''s journey."


    A collective nod of agreement ripples through the assembled group, their focus shifting from the uncertainty of moments ago to the anticipation of what lies ahead.


    "From this moment forward," David continues, his eyes scanning the room, "let us remember that we are forging a path toward innovation and growth. We''re not just an acquisition; we''re a family."


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    David''s words resonate with a sincerity that transcends the corporate veneer, and I can see the anxiety in the room slowly ebbing away. People exchange nods and faint smiles, a sense of unity emerging from the crucible of negotiations.


    "Welcome to the Bias Break family!" David raises his glass higher, and this time, he''s joined by a chorus of clinking glassware as those around the table respond in kind.


    "To the future!" they echo, the room filled with the harmonious sound of celebration.


    Not bad, David... If I didn''t know any better, I would have actually believed your words...


    As the first course is served, the clatter of cutlery and the murmur of conversation quickly fill the room. David leans toward me, his voice softer now, intended only for my ears.


    "Thanks for helping me out," he says with a knowing smile. "If it wasn''t for you, that prick would still be putting up a fight."


    "Don''t fret. I''m the one who should be thanking you... You did all the hard work, after all. The least I could do was help."


    David chuckles, waving me off. "Oh, please... Stop pretending to be humble when we both know you aren''t... By the way, how did you manage to get dirt on Jason? Until last night, you had me thinking that this merger was of no interest to you."


    "It isn''t... A couple of weeks ago, when you first approached me with the idea of the merger, I decided to do some digging to burn time. I wasn''t actually planning on using what I found against him, but I guess things played out just right..."


    "Moving on," David says, clapping his hands together. "There''s something I''ve been meaning to ask you."


    "Yes?"


    "What did you think of Grace?" he asks, his tone playfully probing. I sense there''s more to his question than simple curiosity, but for now, I play along.


    I shrug casually, adopting an air of nonchalance. "She''s okay."


    David''s derisive snort cuts through the air, a clear indication that my response hasn''t satisfied him. "Blind, Roman, you''re blind if you think she''s just ''okay... Did you not see her breasts?!"


    This fucking guy...


    My hands slip into my pockets, clenching into fists to mask the frustration that''s bubbling beneath the surface.


    Just keep calm... The last thing I need is for this fucking pervert to find out that Natalie and I know each other...


    My shoulders lift and fall in a nonchalant shrug once again. Sometimes, silence speaks louder than words, and I''ve become a master of the art.


    "You sure you''re not gay?"


    "..."


    "You seem angry? Are you angry?"


    "..."


    "Fine, fine, fine... I''ll shut my mouth, for now..."


    "Thank you."


    "You should try bonding with the new execs," David suggests as he finishes his glass of champagne.


    "Anyone in particular I should talk to?"


    "I''d talk to Gandalf over there... I heard his brother-in-law is the Managing Director of a very renowned Bank..."


    "Really?"


    "Apparently so... Don''t talk to Grace though... She''s mine." His voice takes on a mischievous undertone as he casually hints at his evening plans. "I think I''m going to try to persuade her to join me at my place later."


    Wait, what did he say?!


    My jaw tightens involuntarily as I wrestle with the impulse to respond with something far less diplomatic. But instead of giving in to my instincts, I let out a low chuckle, a veiled threat concealed within the sound.


    "Anyway, I''m gonna go take a quick leak... Be back in a minute!" David gives me a wink as he starts to head out.


    As David saunters away, heading towards the restroom, I''m left standing in a whirlwind of emotions. The storm starts with anger, ignited by the audacity of David''s comments about Natalie. Fueled by his smug insinuations, I''m momentarily consumed by a firestorm of irritation, my mind conjuring vivid images of all the creative ways I could rearrange David''s nose.


    I find myself gripping my fists tightly, knuckles white under the pressure. The urge to lash out and confront David over his shameless pursuit of Natalie simmers within me, threatening to burst forth like molten lava.


    But then, as the seconds tick by and my emotions ebb and flow, a disconcerting question begins to claw its way into my thoughts. Why do I even care? Why should it matter to me whether Natalie and David spend the night together or engage in a frivolous fling?


    After all, we weren''t close during our formative years, and over a decade has passed since our last encounter. If I recall correctly, the only moments we spent together were confined to my childhood visits to Madeleine''s house for play dates...


    As I stand here, contemplating the enigma of my own emotions, I can''t deny the peculiar sense of protectiveness that surges forth. It''s as if the past has cast a spell, resurrecting dormant sentiments and enveloping me in a protective cocoon of concern for Natalie. I don''t understand it, and I''m not entirely sure I want to.


    Strange... Now that I think about it, besides that one time, I have no memories of Natalie during my high school days... Must be because I stopped going to her house after my friendship with her sister ended...


    In the midst of my contemplation, a gentle clearing of the throat reverberates from my side, yanking me unceremoniously from the recesses of my mind. "Planet Earth to Roman... Do you copy?"


    My eyes blink in a slow return to the vibrant ambiance of the restaurant, away from the cobwebbed corridors of distant memories. There, beside me, stands Natalie, her smile as beguiling as her hazel eyes.


    Caught off guard, I turn my full attention to her, momentarily caught in the intricacies of those eyes that seem to carry a universe of their own. When we shook hands earlier, I had been quick to withdraw, wary of any perception David might have. But now, facing her directly, I find myself strangely drawn in, captivated by her presence.


    "So, what were you thinking about?"


    I was thinking about the past... No, of course, I can''t say that...


    "Nothing much."


    Natalie leans in, her tone conspiratorial. "You always seem like you''re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders."


    What the fuck!?!


    "Some things never change," Natalie remarks.


    "Uhh, what do you mean?"


    Natalie''s smile deepens, as if she knows there''s more to be said. "You know, I used to wonder what went on in that mind of yours when we were kids."


    Natalie''s observation about my penchant for getting lost in thought is an astute recognition. One that seems to reach across the chasm of years, as if she''s glimpsed the very essence of who I am.


    Regardless, I don''t like it. I don''t like the way she''s being so casual with me... It feels suffocating... I need to change the direction this conversation is heading in...


    "Guess I''m just a weird dude," I muse, offering her a wink. "So, how long has it been? Eight years? Nine years?"


    "It''s been ten years," She replies almost instantly.


    Interesting...


    "Has it?"


    "I have a hard time believing a self-made millionaire like yourself loses track of time so easily."


    I chuckle. "What can I say? I must be getting old..."


    "Congratulations, by the way."


    "Thanks," I say, sneaking a glance to make sure David hasn''t come out of the restroom. "On second thought, I should be thanking you! David told me you helped him make this merger possible..."


    "I wasn''t talking about the merger."


    "What?"


    "I was referring to your mom''s engagement," Natalie says, eyeing me warily.


    My mom''s engagement!?! What the fuck is she talking about? Is she fucking with me right now? Does she think this is a joke?!


    "What did you just say?" I ask her through bared teeth.


    What am I even thinking? Of course, my mother isn''t engaged... I must be going deaf... There''s no way I heard that right.


    "Didn''t your mom tell you she was engaged?" she replies, looking very confused. She nods to herself and sighs as if she just let out a secret.


    I clench my fists and redirect my gaze to the door that leads downstairs.


    Everything is beginning to make sense. Now I understand why she texted me the other day. She wanted to tell me about her stupid fucking engagement. She probably wanted to rub it in my face and invite me to the wedding... Fuck...


    I can''t believe she''s actually going through with this. Does she really want to marry that prick so badly?


    On second thought... I can''t believe that loser actually agreed to marry my crazy mother.


    "I''m sorry, Roman," Natalie says after a moment. "I honestly thought you knew."


    "..." I make the decision to stay silent in order to avoid saying something mean to her. Considering the anger I''m feeling right now, all I want to do is break something. I don''t care if it''s a chair, a table, a car, or even a person... I just want to fucking break something...


    I need to leave... I need to fucking go before I break something!


    I turn on my heel, driven by an unspoken urgency, my gaze fixed on the exit, the promise of respite beckoning from beyond the lounge''s confines.


    But, of course, nothing is ever that simple.


    As if tethered to me by some invisible force, Natalie materializes at my side, her inquisitive gaze a stark contrast to the turmoil raging within me. "Where are you going, Roman?"


    Oh, I see... She wants answers. She wants to understand the whirlwind of emotions that course through me, and frankly, I don''t have the patience for it.


    "I... I have some unfinished business to attend to," I reply tersely.


    Natalie, undeterred by my brusque response, continues to watch me with inquisitive eyes. She expects an explanation, but I''m not in the mood to oblige. Frustration brews within me, and I decide to unleash something else on her, to get her off my back.


    I thrust my business card toward her, my voice cold and loaded with a warning. "Here, take this. If you plan on continuing whatever it is you have with David, throw it away and know that you''re probably going to get chlamydia... If not, call me later."


    "..."


    Without waiting for her response, I push open the heavy glass door and descend the flight of stairs. The night air envelopes me as I step outside, the stifling atmosphere of the lounge replaced by a cool breeze. My anger remains unyielding as I head toward my waiting SUV, the tension in my eyes palpable.


    George, my ever-dependable driver, leans against the SUV, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers. My annoyance flares at the breach of my strict no-smoking policy within the vehicle, but tonight, I have more pressing matters on my mind. I approach him, and he hastily stubs out his cigarette against the concrete.


    Without a word, I instruct him in a hefty tone, "Home, George."


    He nods and opens the car door, gesturing for me to step inside. As I settle into the plush interior, the scent of leather surrounds me, a familiar comfort amidst the turmoil of my thoughts.


    Once the car purrs to life and we start moving, George breaks the silence. "Rough night, sir?"


    I exhale heavily, my anger still simmering beneath the surface. "You could say that, George."


    His eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, concern etched in his features. "Is there anything I can do, sir?"


    I appreciate his loyalty, even if I can''t entirely share my frustrations with him. "Not tonight, George. Just get me home."

 Chapter 6 - The Unexpected Guest

    I grip the dumbbells firmly, the calluses on my palms a testament to the years I¡¯ve dedicated to training. The strain is a familiar sensation, an old friend that accompanies me on this journey to physical perfection. As I execute each bicep curl, the veins in my arms swell, a network of determination coursing beneath my skin.


    With every rep I do, I immerse myself even more in the rhythmic motion of the exercise. As I near the end of my set, I feel the burn building up in my biceps and I welcome it. It¡¯s a sting I¡¯ve gotten all but used to.


    The final curl of the set feels like a triumph. I drop the dumbbells, and my muscles pulse with newfound vitality. Stripping off my shirt, I reveal the rewards of dedication. Beads of sweat glisten on my sculpted chest and arms, a testament to the intensity of my workout.


    Two hours of exertion have burned away any lingering stress, leaving me with a sense of accomplishment. I glance at my smartwatch, and the numbers confirm my achievement: nearly five hundred calories burned.


    Feeling a surge of satisfaction, I leave the gym and make my way to the bathroom. One of the advantages of living in a penthouse is that instead of going to public gyms, I have my own private gym, only a couple of rooms away from my bedroom. The accessibility comes in very handy, especially for someone as busy as I am.


    As I step into the bathroom, I head straight for the shower, and with a quick twist of the knob, I turn it on. Taking a couple of steps back, I let the hot water cascade, creating a soothing symphony that echoes through the tiles.


    Leaving the shower running, I head to my closet to pick out some clothes. Opting for comfort over style, I grab a crisp dark blue shirt and a pair of grey shorts before heading back to the shower.


    Back in the bathroom, I start to undress, my mind focused on the satisfying embrace of the upcoming shower. Just as I¡¯m about to shed my last article of clothing, my phone begins to ring. It disrupts the tranquility of the moment, but curiosity gets the better of me, and I reach for it.


    ¡°Hello?¡±


    ¡°Hi, Roman,¡± says the voice on the line, her tone laced with a hint of surprise. ¡°It¡¯s Natalie...¡±


    I can¡¯t help but smile inwardly at the sound of her voice on the phone. If she¡¯s calling me, that must mean she told David to fuck off. ¡°What can I do for you, Natalie?¡±


    Natalie hesitates for a moment, her voice carrying a hint of uncertainty. ¡°Don¡¯t act stupid, Roman... It was you who told me to call, remember?¡±


    I nod to myself, confirming her statement. ¡°You¡¯re right. I did. I want to talk to you.¡±


    ¡°About what?¡±


    I lean against the bathroom counter, considering my words carefully. ¡°I think you know very well what I want to talk about.¡±


    There¡¯s a brief pause on her end of the line as if she¡¯s mulling over the idea. Finally, she speaks, her tone more cautious. ¡°Alright. I¡¯m listening.¡±


    I smile, though she can¡¯t see it. ¡°Good. I¡¯m sending you an address. Come over as soon as you can. We have a lot to talk about.¡±


    ¡°Do we?¡±


    ¡°Yes... I¡¯ll be waiting.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I¡¯ll be able to meet you tonight... I have a prior eng-¡±


    I begin to hear her mention that she has other plans, but I don¡¯t let her finish. ¡°Natalie, if you don¡¯t show up to the address I¡¯m going to send, I¡¯m never talking to you again.¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ll take your silence as an affirmation that you¡¯re coming... See you later, Natalie.¡±


    Not wanting to give her time to refuse, I hang up and swiftly send Natalie my home address, the prospect of her visit both intriguing and unsettling. As I place my phone on the counter, I make my way to the shower, my thoughts slowly drifting towards my mother¡¯s recent engagement.


    The water from the showerhead flows gently, its warmth enveloping me as I step beneath its cascade. The sensations that follow are soothing, the rhythmic sound of water against tile walls creating a calming backdrop. Droplets slide down my skin, tracing invisible paths across my body as I reach for the soap.


    In this tranquil moment, I find myself reflecting on my relationship with my mother. Our bond, or rather its absence, has become a defining facet of my life since my parents¡¯ divorce. I still remember the last argument my parents had, my teenage ears catching every word exchanged in their heated dispute.


    My mother¡¯s voice, sharp with anger, resonated throughout the house as she hurled her infidelity at my father, her words a weapon against his stoic silence. The pain in her voice, the bitterness of her confession, had etched itself into my memory. From that moment on, I¡¯d grown distant from her, unable to stomach her presence for more than a few minutes.


    As the water continues to cascade over me, I can¡¯t help but feel a strange sense of detachment from my mother¡¯s engagement. Anger should be my primary emotion, and yet, it isn¡¯t as consuming as I anticipated. Instead, it lingers in the background, gnawing at my insides because it isn¡¯t stronger.


    Perhaps it¡¯s the years of emotional distance, or the scar left by her confession, but something within me prevents me from feeling the intense anger this situation warrants. It¡¯s as though I¡¯ve become adept at shielding myself from the turmoil, making my emotional reactions as controlled as my professional endeavors.


    Maybe, it¡¯s time I let this anger go. After all, it¡¯s been ten years since I¡¯ve gone back home. Ten years of making my mother pay for the damage she caused. How does that saying go again? Time heals all wounds...


    ¡°...¡±


    Should I call her? If I did, what would I even say to her? Perhaps something like: Hello, mother, sorry for not calling in a while... How long has it been since we last talked? A year? Two?... By the way, I heard about your engagement, congratulations!


    No, I can¡¯t do that. She¡¯d probably think I was high or something if I didn¡¯t act cold. The last time I acted like a normal son, was probably back in my senior year in high school.


    DING DONG!


    The sound of my doorbell breaks me out of my thoughts, bringing me back to the present. I turn off the water, its warmth still lingering on my skin, and step out onto the cool tiles of the bathroom floor. I grab the towel, wrapping it around my waist, and rush to check my phone.


    It¡¯s been just over ten minutes since I talked to Natalie...


    Her quick arrival catches me off guard. I hadn¡¯t expected her to be at my doorstep so quickly. I ponder the logistics as I briskly towel off my wet skin. Does she live in the same building or something? Maybe she lives on the floor below?  No, that¡¯s too far-fetched; she probably resides in the vicinity.


    With my unruly hair somewhat tamed and the towel securely wrapped around my waist, I start making my way to the front door. Each echoing step feels like a solitary note in the otherwise quiet symphony of my empty abode.


    I¡¯ll tell her to wait in the living room as I finish drying myself and change...


    The scent of steam and soap still lingers around me as I reach for the doorknob. The door creaks open, and my expectations dissolve into thin air. Instead of Natalie, I¡¯m met with Veronica¡¯s wide-eyed gaze, framed by the entranceway like an unexpected cameo in the unfolding drama of my life.


    The initial emotion that courses through me is one of profound surprise, like a character in a movie realizing they¡¯ve stepped onto the wrong set. My internal thoughts race, forming a turbulent whirlwind of curiosity and confusion.


    Why is Veronica in my house?


    My bewilderment is mirrored in her eyes, which seem larger than usual, like twin windows into a world of unexpected twists. Her cheeks are a tad paler than their usual rosy hue, betraying a sense of unease. It¡¯s like seeing a character from one storyline unexpectedly appear in another, and both of us are caught off guard by this unexpected collision.


    ¡°Veronica!?¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    Why isn¡¯t she responding? Is something wrong? Is she sick? ¡°You look a little pale... Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Oh, me?! Uh... I¡¯m fine.¡± She looks shocked... What is she looking at? Wait, is she looking at my tattoos?


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    I feel a wave of unease wash over me as I realize her gaze is stuck on my tattoos. It¡¯s like she¡¯s stumbled upon a hidden chapter of my life, and I¡¯m momentarily exposed. My inked skin, which tells a story only I understand, is now open to her scrutiny.


    I clear my throat, feeling a need to break the peculiar silence that¡¯s settled between us. ¡°My bad,¡± I mutter, realizing that standing here dripping wet in a towel isn¡¯t the most welcoming sight. ¡°Come in, please. Wait for me in the living room, I¡¯ll be right with you.¡±


    ¡°Oh, okay...¡±


    As I hustle back to my room, my mind starts swirling like a whirlpool. Why the fuck is she here? We¡¯re not particularly close, and her sudden appearance at my door feels like a curveball on an already unpredictable day.


    With haste, I change into the clothes I laid out, my mind spinning a web of hypotheses. Maybe she needs something work-related. Or perhaps she¡¯s here to discuss some matter about the merger. Or could it be something entirely unrelated to business? My curiosity grows.


    By the time I return to the living room, the atmosphere has shifted from that initial shock to one of restrained tension. I can sense it in the way Veronica fidgets slightly, her eyes darting around the room as if she¡¯s not entirely comfortable being here.


    I can¡¯t help but wonder what¡¯s brought her to my doorstep. There¡¯s an undercurrent of unease in her presence, something that doesn¡¯t quite add up. But before I can delve into this mystery, I decide to break the ice.


    ¡°Tell me,¡± I begin, casually leaning against a nearby wall. ¡°What do you think about my humble abode?¡±


    ¡°Humble, you say?¡±


    I shrug. ¡°Haven¡¯t you been in my apartment before?¡±


    My assistant shakes her head and chuckles. I can sense a hint of nervousness in her voice. ¡°I¡¯ve never actually been inside your home. I usually wait in the lobby when I come to pick you up...¡±


    ¡°I see...¡±


    Well, this just got awkward...


    I lean off the wall, hoping to shake off my anxiety, and move to the other side of the couch she¡¯s sitting on. With an attempt at a relaxed tone, I ask Veronica the obvious question that¡¯s been on my mind since she showed up unannounced. ¡°So, what brings you here, Veronica?¡±


    Veronica¡¯s gaze briefly meets mine, and for a moment, there¡¯s something in her expression, a blush perhaps, before she quickly redirects her attention toward the window. It¡¯s a subtle, almost imperceptible shift, but it¡¯s enough to make me wonder if there¡¯s more to her visit than meets the eye.


    Clearing her throat, she finally responds, her voice carrying a hint of hesitancy. ¡°I just wanted to check up on you, sir. You seemed... tense, earlier today during the meeting. You left really abruptly...¡±


    Her words hang in the air, and I¡¯m momentarily taken aback. Veronica and I have known each other for a couple of years now, and in all that time, she¡¯s never done something like this. The surprise courses through me, and as I consider the possibilities, my mind races.


    Could it be that Veronica has a crush on me? The thought flits through my mind, a stray ember igniting in the recesses of my thoughts. But then again, maybe it¡¯s not that. Perhaps she¡¯s just a genuinely caring person, one who values our friendship enough to ensure I¡¯m alright when I seem off-kilter.


    After all, the past two years of working side by side could very well have cultivated a deeper bond than I initially realized. I¡¯ve always been guarded, and slow to let people in, but Veronica has been a constant presence, a steadying influence amid the chaos of my career.


    As I weigh the possibilities, I realize that no matter the reason behind her visit, there¡¯s a newfound appreciation for her concern. It¡¯s not something I¡¯m accustomed to, and yet, I find myself oddly comforted by it. Aside from David, I¡¯d say she¡¯s the only other person I¡¯d consider a friend. Someone I can consistently depend on to watch my back. For me, especially in the situation I find myself in, friends are a rare commodity. At the very least, I should cherish the few relationships that are in my life, that matter.


    ¡°Thanks for coming, Veronica. I appreciate that you¡¯re checking up on me!¡±


    ¡°Oh, yeah... Don¡¯t worry about it, sir.¡±


    I chuckle. ¡°Enough with the ¡®sir¡¯, Veronica. You can call me by my first name, and please feel free to speak casually with me... We¡¯re not strangers after all...¡±


    ¡°Okay...¡±


    Geez... Why is she so awkward? She¡¯s making me feel awkward...


    I clear my throat, leaning slightly forward as I feel the weight of what I¡¯m about to say. Veronica¡¯s gaze meets mine again, and there¡¯s something in her eyes that tugs at me, but I push the sensation aside for now.


    ¡°Seeing that you¡¯re here, there¡¯s something I¡¯ve been meaning to tell you,¡± I begin, my tone more serious than before.


    Veronica¡¯s expression remains attentive, waiting for me to continue.


    With a deep breath, I unveil the news. ¡°I¡¯ve decided to promote you to a managing position in the marketing team, Veronica.¡±


    Her eyes widen with surprise, and for a moment, I can see the disbelief and elation warring within her. As I delve into the details, explaining the salary increase and the array of benefits that will accompany this promotion, including a move to the third floor, Veronica¡¯s smile broadens.


    But then, as I continue listing the perks, I notice a shift in her demeanor. The once bright smile begins to fade, replaced by a subtle sadness that she can¡¯t quite conceal.


    Fuck... Did I do something wrong?


    ¡°Is everything alright, Veronica?¡±


    She offers a small, somewhat wistful shrug. ¡°I mean, I¡¯m beyond grateful for this promotion, s- I mean Roman... It¡¯s just... I¡¯ll miss working right by your side.¡±


    Her words, though sincere, send a pang of unexpected guilt through me. Veronica has been a steadfast presence in my life, a pillar of support. Her dedication has been unwavering, and it¡¯s not lost on me how instrumental she¡¯s been to the company¡¯s growth... To my growth...


    However now, as I announce her well-deserved promotion, I realize it marks the beginning of a significant change in our dynamic. The end of an era...


    Leaning back on the couch, I consider her words carefully. ¡°You know, Veronica, you¡¯ll always be a crucial part of the team, even if you¡¯re not right next to me. And if you ever need anything, whether it¡¯s advice, assistance, or just a chat, my door is always open... I know I¡¯m your boss, but I hope that you see me as something more... We¡¯ve been working together for over two years, seeing each other on a daily basis... I think it¡¯d be strange if we still weren¡¯t friends by this point, don¡¯t you think?¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    There it is, again! Why is she looking at me like that? Maybe I said something wrong... Something that made her feel uncomfortable. Perhaps she doesn¡¯t see me as a friend despite the time we¡¯ve worked together. Maybe she just sees me as her boss and nothing more.


    AWKWARD SILENCE.


    Fuck my life, that must be it! Of course, she doesn¡¯t see me as a friend... When she first became my assistant I was a complete fucking prick to her. Who in their right mind would become friends with a douche like me?!


    ¡°On second thought,¡± I say, hoping to drown out the suffocating silence that¡¯s in the air. ¡°Please don¡¯t answer that. I¡¯m sorry for putting you on the spot like that. It wasn¡¯t my intention t-¡±


    Before I can finish, Veronica bursts into laughter, her melodious voice filling the room. It catches me so off guard that I can¡¯t help but sit there, momentarily stunned. I watch, wide-eyed, as she laughs with such abandon that it brings tears to her eyes. The sound is like a rare and beautiful melody that I¡¯ve never had the privilege of hearing before. Her laughter dances through the air, making the room feel lighter, warmer, and more alive than it ever has.


    I¡¯m left in awe, my usual composed and guarded demeanor momentarily forgotten. There¡¯s something about the rawness and authenticity of her laughter that touches me deep within. It¡¯s not just the sound; it¡¯s the way her eyes crinkle at the corners, the way her head tilts back slightly, and the way her whole face lights up with genuine joy. It¡¯s as if a veil has been lifted, revealing a side of Veronica I never knew existed.


    As her laughter gradually subsides, I find myself smiling in response. It¡¯s not the polite, professional smile I usually wear, but a genuine one that spreads from my lips to my eyes. ¡°You alright there, Veronica?


    Veronica nods, her cheeks flushed with both embarrassment and delight. She reaches for a tissue to dab away the tears of laughter that glisten in her eyes. I can tell that she¡¯s still a bit surprised by her own outburst. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m fine...¡±


    With a curious tilt of my head, I venture further into this uncharted territory. ¡°I have to admit, I¡¯ve never seen you laugh like that before. What brought that on?¡±


    Veronica¡¯s laughter may have faded, but her smile remains, now tinged with a vulnerability I¡¯ve never witnessed. ¡°Well, Roman, it¡¯s just... I guess I¡¯ve always thought that you didn¡¯t really like me.¡±


    I can¡¯t help but chuckle at her confession, though I¡¯m genuinely touched by her honesty. ¡°Why on earth would you think that?¡±


    Veronica shrugs, her gaze locking onto mine. ¡°You¡¯re not the easiest person to read, Roman. You keep your distance, and you¡¯re not exactly known for your small talk. Plus, you¡¯ve got this ¡®untouchable¡¯ aura around you.¡±


    ¡°Do I?¡±


    ¡°God, yes!¡±


    I nod, understanding her perspective. ¡°I see... Well, now you know that I¡¯m actually quite fond of you. I think you have a lot of fucking talent, and it¡¯d be a waste to have you waste it on me.¡±


    Veronica¡¯s smile widens, and the vulnerability in her eyes gives way to a sense of relief. ¡°Don¡¯t say that... I liked being your assistant, even though you were cold sometimes...¡±


    ¡°Sometimes?¡±


    ¡°Most of the time,¡± Veronica admits, chuckling.


    ¡°Yeah... Sounds about right...¡±


    The room settles into a comfortable silence, and I become acutely aware of Veronica¡¯s intense gaze upon me. Her eyes carry a hint of wonder, and I can¡¯t help but feel a tad self-conscious under her scrutiny.


    I scratch the back of my head, attempting to ease the subtle tension that has wrapped around us. ¡°Why are you looking at me like that?¡±


    A gentle, almost bashful smile tugs at Veronica¡¯s lips, and her eyes maintain their unwavering focus on me. ¡°It¡¯s just... seeing you like this, with your hair down and dressed casually. It¡¯s...unexpected... I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever seen you wear normal clothes.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t wear suits all the time, you know...¡±


    ¡°I know, I know...¡±


    I arch an eyebrow, a small grin forming on my face. ¡°So, what¡¯s your verdict?¡±


    ¡°On what?¡±


    ¡°This version of me...¡±


    Veronica rests her chin on her hand, her gaze still firmly locked on me. ¡°I like it,¡± she confesses with a pensive nod. ¡°You look... different. Younger, even. There¡¯s a certain youthful charm about you.¡±


    My chuckle fills the room, and I find myself somewhat at a loss for words in the face of such an unforeseen compliment. ¡°Well, I guess I should thank you for making me feel rejuvenated.¡±


    But Veronica isn¡¯t finished yet. Her gaze drifts lower, her focus now on my arms. I follow her gaze and realize that she¡¯s looking at the ink that adorns my skin. My tattoos aren¡¯t numerous, but they¡¯re undoubtedly not something you¡¯d expect to see on a person like me. The CEO of a company...


    With an amused glint in her eyes, Veronica smiles. ¡°Tattoos, huh? I never pegged you as someone who¡¯d have those...¡±


    I laugh, feeling more at ease in her presence. ¡°Yeah, I don¡¯t have a ton of them... But I guess you¡¯re right. On the outside, I do fit the clean-cut, corporate image, don¡¯t I?¡±


    ¡°Yes you do,¡± Veronica nods knowingly. ¡°But I like this side of you.¡±


    A brief, comfortable silence envelops us, the weight of unspoken understanding lingering in the air. I can¡¯t help but find myself staring into her eyes. It¡¯s remarkable how this unexpected encounter has led to a more genuine and open conversation than I¡¯ve had with most people in a long time... I can¡¯t even recall the last time I experienced something remotely close to this...


    Maybe there¡¯s something worth exploring with Veronica... Now that I think about it, I don¡¯t think there¡¯s another woman on this planet that I get along with besides her...


    Amidst the calm silence that has settled between us, an unexpected vibration jolts me back to reality. I glance at my phone and realize that someone is calling me. ¡°Hello?¡±


    Natalie¡¯s voice flows through the phone¡¯s speaker, crisp and clear. ¡°Hey, it¡¯s me. I¡¯m downstairs in the lobby. Mind coming down to get me?¡±

 Chapter 7 - Dilemma

    Lowering my phone, I find Veronica''s gaze firmly fixed on me, her curiosity shining through the lingering look in her eyes. It''s evident that she wants an explanation, but at this moment, I''m uncertain if I have one.


    Fuck my life...


    What should I do? What should I say?


    As I contemplate the best course of action, I come to the realization that there''s no scenario where I don''t end up coming across as a complete jerk... All I know is that Veronica''s here, and I don''t want to make her feel uncomfortable or unwelcome. On the other hand, Natalie''s waiting for me downstairs, and I can''t just leave her hanging. I find myself in a genuine dilemma...


    Maybe, if I act chill, things will play out rather calmly... I mean, why shouldn''t they, right? What''s the worst that can happen?


    "Veronica, there''s something I should''ve told you earlier," I begin, my tone apologetic. "I actually have someone waiting for me downstairs. We made plans earlier, and I completely forgot about it until now..."


    "Oh, um, who are you meeting?" Her gaze falters momentarily, her fingers unconsciously playing with the strap of her purse.


    For a brief moment, I find myself caught off guard, my thoughts jumbled as I contemplate how to respond without making her feel uncomfortable. Veronica has surprised me today, and I don''t want to ruin the pleasant atmosphere that has enveloped our interaction.


    "It''s just someone I haven''t seen in a while," I say, hoping my tone conveys that the meeting isn''t anything too significant.


    Veronica takes a deep breath, her shoulders slumping as she exhales. "I see... I should get going, then. I apologize for coming announced, I didn''t mean to intrude or disrupt your evening."


    "You have nothing to apologize for... I genuinely enjoyed our conversation, and your visit was a pleasant surprise."


    She nods, offering a shy smile. "Thank you for your understanding. I''ll leave you to your friend, then."


    As she stands to leave, a part of me registers her subtle reaction - the slight reddening of her cheeks and the way she''s avoiding my gaze incisively.


    Maybe my instincts weren''t wrong... Maybe she does like me...


    "Veronica, hang on a sec," I say, my tone carrying a note of apology as she reaches for the door, ready to leave my apartment.


    She turns to look at me, her expression marked with confusion. "Yes?"


    I step closer, closing the gap between us. "I''m actually heading down too, mind if I tag along?"


    A delicate blush creeps over Veronica''s cheeks. I can''t help but find it endearing, the way she reacts to my simple request. "Yeah, sure."


    We walk in tandem to the elevator, sharing the confined space as the doors slide shut. The atmosphere is a mix of comfort and an undeniable tension that buzzes between us. I steal a glance at her, and it''s clear that she feels it too.


    As the elevator begins its descent, I notice that Veronica pressed the button for the underground parking lot. "You drove here?"


    "Yeah... Haven''t used my car in a while, so I figured I''d take it out for a spin."


    "That''s nice," I say, looking up at the screen to check what floor we''re in. "I didn''t know you had a car."


    "There''s a lot of things you don''t know about me," Veronica says, grabbing the car keys from her purse.


    My gaze drops to meet Veronica''s, and for a fleeting moment, time seems to stand still. Her eyes hold a depth of emotion that leaves me breathless. It''s a look I''ve encountered a handful of times in my life. Her gaze is attentive and filled with vulnerability. It''s as if she''s laying her heart bare with that one look.


    In that intense, wordless exchange, any doubts that may have lingered in my mind evaporate. It''s undeniable now-Veronica likes me. The revelation is a pleasant surprise, but it leaves me with a whirlwind of emotions.


    In the two years, she''s worked as my assistant, not once have I sensed these kinds of emotions from her. So when did it start? How long has she felt this way? And why just now, has she decided to express these feelings?


    With dozens of questions swirling in my mind, I find myself in a sort of trance, caught in the electric air between us. It''s a charged silence, thick with unspoken words and the weight of unexplored feelings. I can''t help but smile softly, my heart a fluttering mess of uncertainty and anticipation.


    Guess there''s only one way I''m going to get answers.


    Just as I open my mouth to speak, the soft chime of the elevator rings and the doors glide open. Blinking in surprise, I realize we''ve reached the lobby, and my gaze is drawn almost immediately to the sight of Natalie sitting on one of the couches in the lounge.


    Thankfully, she''s not wearing the dark seductive dress from earlier today, which seemed to hug every curve in her body. Instead, she''s wearing a dark leather jacket and dark ripped jeans. Her long, golden hair falls freely, like sunbeams entangled in strands of chestnut brown, a detail that draws my attention like a magnet.


    I dig the leather jacket...


    Her gaze remains locked on the phone in her hands, seemingly unaware of my presence. I''m caught in a blend of fascination and intrigue as if I''ve stumbled upon a hidden facet of her persona. I still can''t wrap my head around the fact that she''s all grown up. Who would have imagined that the silly, messy-haired, girl I used to play with when we were kids, would grow up to be so pretty?


    Veronica clears her throat, her voice cutting through the swirling maelstrom of thoughts in my head. "Roman?"


    "Y-Yeah?"


    "Were you going to say something?" Her question hangs in the air, a gentle nudge for my response.


    I gaze down at Veronica, her warm brown eyes expectant, waiting for a response. But as I try to formulate an answer, I find my mind inexplicably blank. The words I''d intended to say have vanished like a wisp of smoke, and I''m left grasping for them, feeling strangely vulnerable.


    Fuck...


    An irritated wave of frustration washes over me, and I clench my fists at my sides. It''s maddening how easily I become ensnared in my own thoughts, especially when faced with my past. Even though I know fully well that it''s not Madeleine but her younger sister sitting on that couch, I''m enraged by the effect that set of hair has on me. It''s a reaction that both confuses and annoys me, as though some dormant part of me has been awakened.


    With a silent internal admonishment, I collect myself, pushing the chaotic swirl of emotions aside. "Oh, yeah... I was just going to tell you to drive safely on your way home."


    "Oh... Okay."


    "Goodnight, Veronica," I murmur, my voice carrying a tinge of regret as I step out of the elevator. The simple word lingers in the air, echoing with the unspoken complexity of the moment. I know that if I don''t leave now, I might end up saying something stupid.


    "Goodnight, Roman." The elevator doors shut, leaving a somber silence in the air.


    I turn my attention back to Natalie, who''s just spotted me. "What took you so long?"


    I lock eyes with Natalie as she gracefully approaches me. The resemblance to her sister is undeniable, but it''s in the subtle differences that she becomes her own unique presence. I''m caught in this strange dichotomy of familiarity and novelty, unable to articulate the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me.


    Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.


    How can she be so similar, yet so different from her sister...


    Caught in my thoughts, I don''t immediately register her chuckling voice as she calls my attention. "Earth to Roman, lost in thought again?" she teases, a playful glint in her eyes.


    "Sorry..." I offer a sheepish grin in response to her gentle teasing. I''d be lying if I said I didn''t feel disturbed by her unexpected entrance into my life. I don''t think she realizes the amount of memories her presence has resurrected. It''s like she''s opened Pandora''s box, but the only one who gets fucked is me...


    Her laugh dances through the air, and I''m pulled back to the present. "You''re not on drugs, are you?"


    I chuckle at her candidness, appreciating her ability to break the ice. "No, no drugs. Just tired."


    As we make our way to the elevator, I motion for her to join me. The elevator door slides open, revealing the metallic interior, and I step inside, holding the door for Natalie.


    "Thanks," she smiles.


    "No problem."


    With her inside, the elevator doors close, and we''re enclosed in a small, private space. Natalie breaks the silence with a question. "So, what floor are we headed to?" Her curiosity is evident, yet there''s a sense of ease in her presence that makes me feel more relaxed.


    A sly grin curves my lips as I reach to press the button for the penthouse floor. "We''re going all the way up."


    "You trying to show off or something?" Natalie teases, shaking her head playfully. Her eyes twinkle with amusement as she surveys the elevator''s buttons.


    "No, not really..." Natalie''s teasing comment earns her a playful eye roll from me.


    "So, how long have you lived here?" she asks, genuine curiosity gleaming in her voice.


    "In this building?"


    Natalie nods.


    Memories of the past few years flood my mind as I reflect on the journey that brought me here. The decision to buy this penthouse came after my company transitioned from our old warehouse to a sleek downtown office. "I''ve lived here for just over three years."


    Natalie nods, her interest piqued. "Three years, huh?


    "Yes, ma''am."


    "You know, now that I think about it, I don''t think I''ve ever been to a penthouse before." Her excitement is palpable, and it''s endearing to see her enthusiasm.


    A warm smile spreads across my face. "I''ll do my best to make your first penthouse experience enjoyable."


    As silence starts to fall between us, I seize the opportunity to keep the conversation flowing. "How long have you been living in New York?"


    Her gaze turns introspective for a moment before she replies. "I moved to New York about four years ago..."


    "Four years ago, huh? What made you want to move to New York?"


    "The best law schools in the country are in New York."


    "Really?" I say, rubbing my chin thoughtfully. "I thought Harvard was the best law school?"


    Natalie chuckles and shakes her head. "Not better than NYU."


    "Only someone who went to NYU would say that... You went to NYU?"


    Natalie meets my gaze, her eyes revealing a spark of pride. "Yes, I did!"


    "You studied law at NYU?!"


    "YEP!"


    I can''t help but be impressed. NYU is a prestigious institution, and the fact that she graduated from there, speaks volumes about her dedication and intelligence. "That''s amazing... I''m proud of you."


    "Yeah, it''s something..." Natalie smiles before nudging my shoulder. "But, it''s nothing compared to what you''ve accomplished."


    Before I can utter a response, the elevator doors slide open with a gentle whoosh, and Natalie bolts out with youthful enthusiasm.


    Really?


    I trail after her, amused by her boundless energy, and find her standing before the expansive window in the living room. She presses her face against the glass, her eyes wide as she gazes down upon the city sprawled beneath us.


    "The view from up here is amazing," she exclaims, her voice tinged with wonder.


    I stand a few feet away, observing her with a mix of emotions. Despite the years that have passed and the changes that have shaped us, I can still see glimpses of the little girl I once knew. Her enthusiasm is infectious, and it warms something inside me that I thought had long grown cold.


    It''s an odd feeling, seeing her like this after all this time. The surge of nostalgia, the unexpected rush of emotions-it''s like reuniting with a long-lost friend. A part of me feels endeared, protective even, as I watch her. She''s older, taller, and undoubtedly more mature, yet she retains that same spirit that I remember.


    Snap out of it, Roman! Don''t forget that she''s hiding something!!!


    I take a deep breath, hoping to pull some sense into myself. It''s obvious that everything that happened today wasn''t a mere coincidence, and I can''t let nostalgia cloud my judgment. Natalie being here means something, and I can''t afford to forget that.


    I lean against the wall, crossing my arms as I quietly observe her. I know better than to underestimate her or her motives. I''m confident that she didn''t help me acquire StellarTalent out of sheer goodness of heart; that much is clear... There''s an agenda at play, a purpose behind her actions, and I intend to unravel it.


    I don''t care that we have a shared past, or that we''re from the same hometown. All of that is irrelevant. If I get even the smallest suspicion that she''s trying to hurt me or my company, I''ll crush her. I''ll end her career and personally make sure she never practices law again...


    I know I might seem heartless and cold, but this is who I am now. I''m not the same person I was ten years ago. I''m no longer the stupid fat kid who''d let just about anyone walk over him... I killed him... I destroyed him...


    This unexpected encounter might have rekindled a connection, but I won''t let sentimentality blind me to whatever lies beneath the surface.


    Natalie turns away from the window and takes a deep breath, her lithe form sinking onto the couch cushions. She gazes up at me, her eyes expectant. "Now that I''ve checked out the view, I''m ready to hear why you forced me to come here today."


    I clear my throat, momentarily averting my gaze as I approach the small cabinet under my TV. My silence is palpable as my fingers retrieve a glass and a bottle of rum. If I''m going to do this, I might as well get some alcohol in me...


    "You should already have a few ideas as to why I asked you to come," I finally respond, my voice measured.


    Natalie sighs, and I can see the flicker of irritation behind her calm exterior. I can''t tell if she''s actually annoyed or if she''s just putting on an act. Regardless, I realize that I can''t lower my guard around her. "I can certainly think of a couple of reasons why you''d want to talk to me, but I''d rather not make assumptions. I''d prefer to hear it directly from you, Roman."


    I pour myself a glass of rum, filling it halfway. I''ve never been one to beat around the bush, and this conversation should be no exception. "Why did you help me acquire StellarTalent?"


    "Actually, Roman, it was David I helped, not you." She snorts lightly, her lips curling into a wry smile.


    "I''d rather not play games," I retort, my words carrying a sense of urgency. "I need to know your motivation behind this. Why help David? Why involve yourself in this business deal? Why involve yourself with me?"


    "You know, I really don''t like repeating myself... Is it really that hard to believe that I was just helping a friend?"


    "Yes," I say, taking a step forward. "Want to know why?"


    "Why?"


    "Because anyone with half a brain and a phone can easily read about how David and I built this company from the ground up... You can''t possibly expect me to believe that you came into this not knowing how close David was to me?"


    Natalie sighs. "Don''t put words into my mouth, Roman."


    "So you admit it, right?" I place the glass down and kneel next to her.


    "Admit what?"


    "That you knew David was connected to me."


    "Of course, I knew." Natalie leans back onto the couch and crosses her arms. "Regardless, that doesn''t mean that I reached out to him, just to meet you..."


    "Really?


    "Yes, Roman... The world doesn''t revolve around you, you know."


    The hint of red on Natalie''s cheeks doesn''t escape my notice as our eyes meet. Whether her blush is due to my proximity or the uncomfortable conversation we''re embroiled in, I can''t be sure. But right now, it''s a sign of vulnerability that I can work with. This is my chance to unravel the secrets she''s been concealing, while I have the upper hand.


    Gently, I reach for her hands, which have been nervously clutching her crossed arms. The surprise in her gaze is evident as I draw closer, our faces mere inches apart. It''s a bold move, one she clearly didn''t anticipate.


    "All I want from you is honesty, Natalie," I say, my tone soft yet fervent. "You might not believe it, but it would hurt me to discover that you''ve been keeping things from me. I know we haven''t seen each other in a very long time, but still, we''ve known each other since childhood. That means something, right?"


    Natalie remains silent, her gaze flickering with a blend of emotions. I can''t help but feel a pang of guilt for using our shared past as leverage. I know very well that I''m manipulating her, but regardless, I forge ahead. I''m not going to stop until I''m certain I know everything.


    "If there''s something you need help with, you can tell me," I say, my grip on her hand tightening ever so slightly. "You don''t need to do things for me, to make me care about you. Every day, I deal with people-friends and foes alike. Many envy me and wish for my failure. Did you know that almost everyone in my life is a two-faced liar... I hope you''re not one of them."


    The silence hangs heavy between us, our eyes locked in a quiet battle of wills. I can feel the tension in the air, a taut wire ready to snap. And then, like a hesitant surrender, Natalie sighs and bows her head. Her confession comes out in a whisper, heavy with the weight of her admission. "You were right... I helped David in order to help you."


    The question that''s been gnawing at me since her unexpected appearance escapes my lips without hesitation. "Why?"


    Natalie''s eyes widen momentarily, and for that brief moment, I catch a flicker of fear. "I had a request to make... I knew that my best chance of getting you to agree was if you were in my debt."


    A knowing smile plays on my lips, though beneath the surface, my emotions remain in turmoil. Natalie''s confession has opened up a world of curiosity and apprehension within me. I grasp the unspoken implications of her words, and the weight of this impending debt gnaws at the edges of my mind. Whatever her request, it must be big. Really big...


    "What''s the request?"


    "There''s something I need to tell you first." Natalie moves her hand away from mine and leans back. "But, you have to promise me you won''t get angry."


    This has to be a joke... Is she fucking with me!?


    Suppressing any rising irritation and worry, I place a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I''ll do my best to stay calm. You can tell me anything."


    "Do you promise?"


    "I promise."


    "Okay, then," she says, her voice trembling ever so slightly. Her breath quivers as she exhales, and her eyes, a cryptic blend of pity and sorrow, lock onto mine. A shiver of unease runs down my spine. The weight of her gaze gnaws at my curiosity, like a locked door with an unknown mystery behind it.


    What is she hiding from me!?


    With a deliberate clearing of her throat, Natalie embarks on her revelation, her tone weighted with solemnity. "My older sister," she begins slowly, her words hanging in the air like a fragile secret, "is getting married in three weeks."

 Chapter 8 - Turmoil

    My head is spinning and the silence isn''t helping. I stand up and gulp down the rest of my rum. It doesn''t help. My face is still burning, and my heart is hammering my chest like a fucking drum.


    "Roman?" Natalie stands up, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Are you okay?"


    Is fucking she kidding me?! How can I be alright after hearing what she just said? If I don''t get another drink in me, I''m going to lose my fucking mind...


    I start to make my way to the kitchen, hoping that I''ll find more alcohol, but then stop. A thought has just crossed my mind... Maybe I misheard Natalie. Maybe I''m just hearing things that aren''t real.


    I turn around, shaking off the turmoil building in my stomach. "Did you say your sister is getting married?"


    "Yes," Natalie replies, a hint of hesitation in her voice.


    "In three weeks?"


    "Uhh, yes..."


    Fuck! I guess I wasn''t mishearing things.


    "Are you feeling okay?" Natalie asks, reaching out to place a hand on my forehead. "Your face is really red..."


    "I feel fine." I take a step back before she can reach me. I can tell she feels hurt that I didn''t let her touch me, but I don''t care. After what she just said, she''s lucky I haven''t kicked her out of my house.


    Natalie sighs, lowering her gaze to the ground. "You seem angry."


    "Do I?"


    "Yes." Natalie looks up and our gazes meet. "You promised that you wouldn''t get angry, remember?"


    This is fucked... She''s fucked... I don''t know what she''s playing at, but whatever it is, I don''t like it. "Why?"


    Natalie''s eyes widen. "Why what?"


    I place my arms behind my back so that she can''t see me clench my fists. "Why did you tell me that your sister is getting married?"


    Natalie opens her mouth, her lips trembling for a moment before she haltingly closes them. Her hesitation casts a looming shadow, hinting at the weight of the secret she''s hiding.


    What could it be? What is she keeping from me? The suspense in the room lingers like a dense fog, thick and suffocating. Natalie fidgets with her hands, a clear sign that whatever is on her mind, is heavy and fraught with emotion.


    As my patience grows thinner, I realize that something isn''t adding up. As far as the world is concerned, Madeleine and I were just neighbors and classmates. We went to the same schools, graduated from the same high school, and then, never saw each other again. Nothing more and nothing less.


    So, why..? Why would she tell me about her sister, unless... No, it can''t be... There''s no way she knows about our past. Right?


    I begin to ponder the possibility that Natalie might be privy to the feelings I once harbored for her sister. The love, the betrayal, it all rushes back in a dizzying whirlwind of memories. But still, it doesn''t make sense... I''m confident that I''ve been meticulous in hiding that chapter of my life. Nobody else on this planet, apart from Madeleine, should know that I used to love her...


    Unless Madeleine told her... Shit!


    Natalie clears her throat, drawing my attention. With a soft, tremulous voice, she finally speaks, as if unburdening herself with each word. "The reason I told you about my sister''s wedding, is because I want to stop it," she admits, her gaze locked onto mine.


    "You want to stop your sister''s wedding?!"


    Natalie nods, a look of resolve growing in her eyes. "I want to stop my sister from getting married and I want your help... No, I need your help!"


    "You''re out of your mind, Natalie!" I snap, frustration lacing my words. I can''t even begin to fathom why she''d suggest something so outrageous.


    "Maybe I am crazy..." Natalie sighs, slumping down on the couch. "But I don''t care. None of it matters... All I know is that I have to save my sister, no matter what!"


    "Save her from what?"


    "Save her from marrying that psychopath!!!"


    Her unwavering resolve stuns me. This is no joke, no prank, and no casual conversation. Natalie is serious. She''s asking for my help to break up her sister''s wedding.


    I''m still trying to digest the bombshell that Madeleine is getting married, and now I have to wrap my head around the fact that Natalie is on a mission to prevent it. Questions and confusion flood my mind. But one question stands out among them all.


    "Who is Madeleine marrying?" I ask, my voice trembling slightly.


    Natalie places a hand over her face and takes a deep breath. "She''s marrying Bryce Cooper..."


    The moment the words leave her mouth, the world around me goes silent.


    Natalie''s revelation has hit me like lightning. My head is spinning, and my heart feels like it''s about to burst through my chest. I''m overwhelmed, struggling to make sense of it all.


    Why... Why... Why is this happening?!


    Fighting to catch my breath, I lean heavily against the wall, the culmination of my efforts to build a new life now shattered. Discovering that the girl who once held my heart is now engaged is one kind of torment. But learning that she''s marrying the lunatic who tormented me in high school is an entirely different kind of anguish, one that rips me to my very core.


    Nothing could have prepared me for this revelation. Nothing!


    "You look pale! Are you feeling alright?" Natalie''s words slice through the whirlwind of emotions consuming me. She rushes to my side, her fingers gently brushing my arm. In that fleeting touch, the chaotic storm of confusion begins to subside, giving way to a surge of anger.


    I can''t help but feel a rush of anger toward Natalie for unearthing this painful truth. She''s trespassed into my life, unsettling everything I''ve built with this seismic revelation. Who the fuck does she think she is?! How dare she come into my home and lay such a bomb on me!


    "I said, I''m fine!" I pull away from her, taking deep breaths. She can''t possibly understand what this revelation means to me. To her, it might be just a casual family update. But to me, it''s a tsunami of emotions.


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    "So much for not getting angry..."


    I turn towards Natalie, and her visible anger baffles me. She''s pacing back and forth, arms tightly crossed, shaking her head in obvious frustration. "What did you just say to me?!"


    "Well, obviously, you''re upset," she says, pausing for a moment as if choosing her words carefully. "I shouldn''t have told you that my sister was getting married. I don''t know what I was thinking."


    Just as I''m about to tell her to go fuck herself, a sudden inexplicable shift washes over me.


    I blink, disoriented by this abrupt transformation. My anger dissipates, almost as if it was never there. In its place, a peculiar calmness envelops me. It''s a sensation I can''t immediately explain, but it effectively tames my raging emotions.


    As I look down at Natalie, I realize how foolish I''ve been. The way I reacted to the news was senseless. Why should I even care about Madeleine''s upcoming marriage? Why should I care, when it''s likely she hasn''t spared me a second thought in all these years? Knowing her, she was bound to get married at some point. It''s obvious that she''s moved on with her life, just as I have with mine...


    "I''m not angry."


    Natalie regards me with a mix of concern and skepticism, her eyes scrutinizing my face. "Are you sure?"


    "I''ve been under a lot of stress lately," I say, skirting the complexities of the tangled emotions that have unraveled within me. "I apologize if I seemed irritated, but I''m not."


    "Fine." I watch as Natalie sighs and plumps back on the couch. Whatever I just said seems to have convinced her.


    I place the empty glass on the kitchen counter and join her on the couch. As I grab one of the cushions, I notice Natalie''s looking at me strangely. She seems to be waiting for something. "Why are you looking at me like that?"


    "You still haven''t answered my question, Roman." Natalie crosses her arms, leaning toward me in anticipation.


    Damn, it seems I can never get a break from her. She''s like a leopard constantly on the hunt for answers.


    "I''m afraid I won''t be able to help you." I lean away from her and clear my throat. "I think It''d be inappropriate for me to get involved."


    "Are you serious!?" Natalie exclaims, practically jumping out of her seat. The irritation in her voice is unmistakable. "Aren''t you bothered by the fact that she''s marrying Bryce?"


    Of course, it bothers me. A lot. But she doesn''t have to know that.


    "Not really."


    Natalie shakes her head in disbelief. "I can''t believe I was stupid enough to think you''d actually help..."


    Is she serious right now? I can''t tell. Why is she angry? No, let me reword that. What gives her the right to be angry?


    Before I can find my voice, Natalie stands up and declares that she''s leaving. She storms towards the door with an air of determination, and I hurry to catch up.


    "Wait!" I yell, my tone bearing a hint of frustration, but she seems unperturbed. Instead, she flings the door open and makes a beeline for the elevator. Her emotions have gotten the better of her, and it''s both bewildering and somewhat exasperating.


    I quicken my steps to catch up to her. "Why are you so angry, Natalie?"


    "..."


    Natalie keeps her eyes on the elevators, ignoring me completely. I can''t help but chuckle at her childish behavior. "Are you seriously giving me the silent treatment?"


    She rolls her eyes dramatically, frustration written all over her face. "If anyone knows what a piece of shit Bryce is, it''s you."


    "Bryce being a prick is fucking common knowledge... What do I have to say or do, to convince you that this has nothing to do with me?!"


    "Don''t give me that shit, Roman! You ought to be more honest with yourself."


    "Madeleine is an adult. If she wants to marry that fuck, it''s her decision."


    Natalie scoffs and steps into the elevator. As the doors begin to close, she turns towards me and mutters, "I expected more from you."


    The elevator whisks her away, leaving me alone with my thoughts. The silence that follows is heavy, laden with the weight of what''s been said and unsaid. Natalie''s revelations have left me in a state of disarray.


    "FUCK YOU!" I scream, knowing she won''t hear me. That''s what I should''ve said to her when she was pestering me. I don''t know why I held back when I wasn''t at fault.


    I storm back to my apartment, slamming the door behind me. I march to my room to grab a pack of cigarettes and head straight to the balcony. My head is pounding, and my body is craving for nicotine.


    After I light the cigarette, I take a long hit before pulling out my phone. I scroll down to my last missed call and press on my mother''s contact. I stare at the screen for a moment, unsure of what to do. Even though it''s been a couple of days since I got her text message, the idea of ghosting her isn''t as appealing as before.


    "Fuck it." I press the call button and bring the phone to my ear.


    I listen quietly to the ring until someone picks up. "Hello?"


    "Hello, mother."


    "Roman?!" My mother exclaims.


    "Yes, it''s me..."


    "W-Why are you calling?"


    I sigh. "You texted me a couple of days ago and said we needed to talk."


    "Yes, I did! I just didn''t think you''d call." I hear my mother whisper to someone that she''s on the phone with me.


    "Are you alone?" I ask.


    I hear my mother chuckling. "No, dear. I''m with your brother."


    "I see." I take another drag from my cigarette. "What did you want to talk about?"


    "Oh, yes! How silly of me..." I hear my mother clear her throat. "I wanted to tell you that I''m engaged, Roman."


    I take a moment to let the words sink in. Even though Natalie told me about the engagement, hearing the words come from my mother makes it seem more real.


    "Congratulations, mother." I try to keep my voice as mellow as possible.


    "Roman?"


    "Yeah?"


    "Are you feeling okay, dear?" My mother asks, the shock in her voice evident.


    "I''m fine," I reply, my lips curling into a smile. Somehow I knew she''d ask me that. My lack of spitefulness is just as strange to me as it is to her.


    I hear the sound of running water, accompanied by the clinking of glass through the speaker. I deduce that my mother is in the kitchen. "You''re acting really strange, Roman. I didn''t think you''d react this way..."


    "You probably thought I''d be angry, didn''t you?"


    "Actually, yes!"


    I let out a snort, exhaling a plume of smoke into the cool night air. "I''m not angry, mother."


    "Okay, then... Would you like to come to the engagement party next weekend?" she asks, her voice hopeful.


    I shake my head, even though she can''t see me. "I don''t think I''ll be able to make it." The mere thought of attending such an event fills me with dread. The truth is, if it wasn''t for everything I discovered today, I''d probably be more angry about the news. As things stand, her engagement is the least of my concerns.


    My mother sighs, and I can almost picture her frowning. "It would have been nice to have you visit. It''s been nearly a decade since you''ve been home, Roman."


    I fall silent, the weight of that statement settling upon me like an anchor. It''s true; I''ve been away from home for almost ten years. Despite the anger I''ve harbored for my mother, there''s a flicker of longing that stirs in me. I can''t deny that I miss the warmth I used to feel there, the memories of simpler times. But too much has changed for me to return. There''s a reason I left all those years ago and never looked back.


    I hear my mother talk to someone in the background, presumably the person helping her in the kitchen."Luke wants to speak with you, Roman."


    I can''t help but smile at the mention of my younger brother. "Put him on," I tell her, my voice softening. It''s been six months since I last spoke to Luke, and I''m eager to hear from him.


    "I''m passing the phone to Luke," my mother says. I can hear the excitement in Luke''s voice as he comes on the phone, his youthful enthusiasm breaking through the static of our connection.


    "When are you gonna come visit us?" Luke asks, sounding both hopeful and demanding.


    I let out a snort, taking a drag from my cigarette. "Quit spouting nonsense."


    Luke, ever the optimist, chuckles on the other end of the line. "Well, if you''re not gonna visit, I''ll just have to come to New York."


    His words catch me off guard, and I can''t help but chuckle. The last time he came to visit, he stayed for a week and was bored out of his mind because I didn''t have any video games in my apartment. Granted, he was twelve back then. I''m pretty sure the city of New York is much more alluring to him now that he''s eighteen.


    "Actually, that''s why I wanted to talk to you," Luke says, clearing his throat. "I''m coming over tomorrow morning."


    I stub out my cigarette, taken aback. "Tomorrow? What do you mean?" I''m not sure if he''s just pulling my leg or if he''s actually serious. It wouldn''t be the first time he''s pulled a prank on me...


    Luke''s voice takes on a more serious note as I hear him take a deep breath. "I''ve got an interview this Thursday for an internship, and I figured I''d make the most of the trip by going a few days early."


    I scratch my head, still trying to process the unexpected news. "How long are you planning to stay, then?"


    "I plan to be in New York for about four days. I''ll be heading back on Friday for Mom''s engagement party." His response sends a pang of guilt through me. Despite the ten-year age gap between us, Luke has always been the ideal son¡ªthe one who never seems to disappoint our mother. His relationship with her is strong, something I could never quite manage.


    When our parents went through their divorce, Luke was at an age where the weight of their separation didn''t seem to trouble him the way it did me. But I never harbored any resentment over that. In fact, I''ve always been content to let him assume the role of the ''good child.'' After all, it''s essential that at least one of us maintains a close and positive relationship with our mother...


    "You still there?" Luke asks, his voice snapping out of my thoughts.


    "Yes," I reply, trying to sound more engaged than I am. "Well, you''re welcome to stay at my place, Luke... What time do you get here tomorrow?"

 Chapter 9 - Airport

    My phone vibrates on the coffee table for the seventh time in the last four minutes. I finally decide to answer so I can tell David to fuck off.


    "Why the fuck do you keep calling?!" I bark into the speaker.


    "Guess somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed..."


    I roll my eyes. "What do you want?"


    "Why aren''t you in the office? I''ve been looking for you all morning!"


    "Did you not see my text last night?" I glance up, catching the waitress''s arrival as she places my smoothie on the table. I hand her a fifty-dollar bill and with a nod, let her keep the change.


    "You texted me last night?" David asks, sounding unsure.


    "Yes, I did."


    "What did you text me?"


    "I mentioned I''d be picking up my brother today." With my smoothie in hand, I make my way out of the coffee shop. My gaze drifts to the large TV on the wall, which displays a notification that my brother''s flight just landed a couple of minutes ago.


    "Luke is coming to New York?!"


    "Yes..."


    "That''s great. How long is he staying?"


    I take a sip of my mango smoothie. "A few days. He''s got some internship interviews lined up."


    "That''s nice..." I hear David complain to someone in the background.


    "Is everything okay?"


    David chuckles. "Yeah, my computer hasn''t been working ever since the software update last night... The tech guy is fixing it right now."


    "I see." I look up and notice that I''ve arrived at the designated gate for my brother''s flight. Deciding that I don''t want to garner any unwanted attention, I decide to hang toward the back, behind the other dozen or so people waiting for their loved ones. The last thing I need is to get recognized or mobbed.


    "Why don''t you tell your brother to work for our company? Isn''t he studying business or something? I''m sure we could find a suitable position for him..."


    I shake my head and take another sip of my smoothie. "I don''t think he''d go for it."


    "Why is that?"


    "Because he doesn''t want me to be his boss."


    "He''s starting to sound more like you every day," David snorts. "You should try and convince him though... I''d hate to see him get an internship where his job is to go on coffee runs all day."


    As I''m about to reply to David, I feel a set of eyes fixed on me. The sense of being watched sends a subtle shiver down my spine. I glance around and notice a redheaded girl looking at me. She''s openly staring at me, not even attempting to be discreet. Judging by the cardigan she''s wearing, she''s probably a freshman in college.


    Hoping to escape her inquisitive attention, I take a step back, but her gaze remains locked on me. She leans in to whisper something to her friends, and just as I''d feared, they all turn to look at me. They huddle together, whispering animatedly and occasionally glancing in my direction.


    My fists clench as it dawns on me that they might have recognized me. The last thing I need right now is to be the subject of their attention.


    "Roman? You still there?" David''s voice snaps me back to the present.


    "Yeah, I''m fine. I think some people just recognized me."


    "Are you seriously walking in public? Why didn''t you wait in the car!?"


    "Maybe I should have-" Before I finish my sentence, my focus shifts back to the college girls who have begun walking toward me. The redhead, who seems to be their fearless leader, clears her throat to get my attention.


    "Excuse me, sir," she says. "Do you mind if I ask you a question?"


    "I''ll call you later," I say to David and hang up.


    The redhead looks at her friends who nod in support. "By any chance, are you Roman Pierce?"


    I raise an eyebrow and shake my head slightly. "No, you must be mistaken."


    She responds with a chuckle, clearly unimpressed by my denial. "I''m pretty sure I''m not mistaken."


    "You can''t hide from us!" Says one of the other girls in the group. I turn my head and watch as a girl with brown hair holds up her phone, displaying a picture of me from the internet.


    Fuck...


    A low curse escapes my lips. These girls are causing a scene, and now, people around the airport are beginning to notice. I glance around and see curious onlookers, their eyes fixed on me. This isn''t how I wanted to start my day.


    "Look, I appreciate the enthusiasm," I begin, trying to sound polite. "But you''ve got the wrong person. I''m not Roman Pierce."


    The college girls exchange knowing glances and then one of them, a blonde, chimes in, "If you really aren''t Roman Pierce, then show us some ID. Prove it."


    "I don''t have to show you shit..."


    "Then how do we know you aren''t Roman Pierce?"


    "Because I fucking say so..."


    Noticing my anger, the redhead closes the distance between us and takes hold of my hand. "Come on, Mr. Pierce, don''t be so shy. We''re just big fans. Can we get a selfie?"


    My patience wanes as her friends eagerly ready their phones for a photo. I can already envision this turning into a full-blown circus. Reluctantly, I agree to a quick picture, hoping they''ll leave me alone afterward.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    The girls huddle around me, smartphones at the ready, their giggles growing more irritating by the second. I force a polite smile for the camera, wishing I could escape this awkward situation.


    As soon as the photos are taken, the girls thank me and move on, their excitement undiminished. I breathe a sigh of relief, glad to have put an end to the impromptu photo session. It seems the ever-watchful eye of the media and paparazzi is not the only thing I have to worry about.


    "That was quite the scene!" My heart leaps as Luke''s voice surprises me. I turn to see him, a bright grin adorning his face, his eyes sparkling with excitement.


    A wide smile breaks across my face, and I pull him into a hug, an unfamiliar warmth flooding over me. "Look at you," I exclaim, my voice filled with amazement. "You''re taller than me now!"


    I release Luke and step back, studying him with a mix of pride and amazement. He''s grown taller than I''d anticipated, the frame of a college student clearly etched in his appearance. He''s sporting jeans and a hoodie, and his long hair is tied back in a neat ponytail. A smattering of stubble frames his face, and the same mischief sparkles in his eyes, reminiscent of the younger brother I once knew.


    "How''s college treating you?" I ask, trying to contain my pride. It''s surreal to see him as an adult. The last time I saw him was when I took him to London for his fifteenth birthday.


    Luke shrugs nonchalantly, a glint of excitement flickering in his eyes. "It''s been a rollercoaster. Classes are alright, but the parties? Man, you wouldn''t believe it!"


    I can''t help but laugh as I picture Luke living the college life I mostly missed out on. I was in college when I first started working on my website, which eventually grew into the company it is today. Even though I was making loads of money back then, it also meant I missed out on most of the typical college experiences.


    As we make our way to the parking lot, I listen to Luke recount tales of his first year. He shares stories of professors, roommates, and late-night adventures, and I find myself feeling guilty for being absent from his life these last couple of years. Especially these last two years. If I hadn''t fought with our mother, I would''ve been much more involved in his life.


    We finally arrive at the parking lot, and I can''t help but feel a sense of pride as I see Luke''s awestruck expression when he spots the Aston Martin. He approaches the car and runs his hand through his long hair, his eyes wide in disbelief.


    "You drove in that?" Luke gasps, awe written all over his face.


    I nod. "Do you like it?"


    "I love this car!" Luke''s excitement is contagious as he marvels at the car. "I can''t believe you''re driving the kind of car I''ve only seen in Bond movies. Is it yours?"


    "Unfortunately not," I reply, opening the door to the driver''s seat. "David lost a bet, so he gave me his car for a month."


    "Typical David... By the way, how''s he doing these days? I heard he broke up with his girlfriend or something?"


    "How do you know that?!"


    Luke snorts as he slides into the passenger seat. "His girlfriend is a Playboy model! Everybody knows she''s single these days."


    "Makes sense..."


    The drive to Manhattan stretches out before me, a winding journey down the familiar highway. Luke talks about life back home, the quaint and simple stories of a small town that used to be my whole world. He tells me that our first-grade teacher, Mrs. Armstrong, has moved into the house across the street from ours. I can almost picture the little red-brick house, its neat lawn and white picket fence. He shares news about his best friend, Owen, who''s started working at his dad''s car shop. The details he provides about their lives and other names he mentions, spark a strange sense of nostalgia within me. I haven''t heard these names in years.


    "What do you think about Mom''s engagement?" Luke suddenly asks, searching my face for any signs of emotion. It''s clear that he wants to know how I feel about our mother''s upcoming marriage.


    I meet his gaze for a moment before my eyes return to the road. I release a heavy sigh, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me. Luke''s gaze remains fixed on me, waiting, searching for an answer he''s been trying to elicit from me for years. I know he wants me to mend things with our mother, to heal the rift that''s grown between us.


    "I''m happy for her," I state, my voice calm and composed. "I''m happy that she''s found someone who makes her feel good."


    Luke''s eyes widen in shock at my response. "Are you fucking with me, Roman?"


    "No, I''m not." I shake my head as I keep my eyes on the road.  "I''m honestly happy for her."


    The relief in Luke''s expression is palpable. He chuckles softly, and I can almost hear the smile in his voice. "You know, this is the first time you haven''t gotten angry when I brought up Mom."


    A wry smile tugs at my lips, and I loosen my grip on the steering wheel. "What can I say? I guess I''ve matured."


    "What happened to the short-tempered brother I know? What did you do to him!?"


    I chuckle. "If you keep pestering me, I''ll change my mind."


    "Ok, ok... I''ll lay back for now."


    "Thank you!"


    As I pull up to the front of the office, I feel a strange mix of emotions rolling in my head. It''s obvious that a new chapter is about to begin for our family, and I can''t help but feel that perhaps there''s no place for me in it. It''s been years since I segregated myself and made a life of my own. My family did the same... Despite the sense of doubt gnawing at me, seeing the relief in Luke''s eyes, I know that for now, I''ve made the correct choice.


    "Is this your new office?" Luke asks as he steps out of the car. His eyes widen in disbelief as he looks up, amazed by the height of the building.


    "It sure is." I slap the back of his head and gesture to him to follow.


    "Why are we here, Roman?"


    "There''s a couple of things I need to do. Won''t take too long... I also thought it''d be nice for you to check out the place, eh?"


    "Oh, okay..."


    I pull my phone out as we step into the elevator and send David a text to meet me in my office.


    "I liked the old office more," Luke suddenly says. "It seemed more retro. It felt more organic if that makes any sense..."


    "Really?"


    "Yeah, dude."


    "What don''t you like about the new office?"


    Luke chuckles and shrugs. "It''s not that I don''t like it... It just feels very corporate."


    "I see... I still think you''ll find this place cool once you find your way around."


    "Guess we''ll find out."


    The elevator doors swing open, and I can''t help but be amused by Luke''s wide-eyed wonder as he takes in the vibrant atmosphere of the bustling newsroom. The place is abuzz with activity, reporters huddled in front of screens, and an overall air of controlled chaos. The clatter of keyboards and hushed conversations fills the air.


    "This place is wild," Luke remarks, clearly amazed.


    "If you think this is wild, just wait until you witness the madness during election season." I hear the sound of heels clicking on the floor, and I turn to find Veronica approaching.


    Though a friendly smile graces her lips, I can''t help feeling a twinge of unease. I feel guilty. Last night, I kicked her out of my house after she came to check on me.


    "Good morning," I greet her, attempting to keep the awkwardness at bay.


    "Good morning, sir."


    Shit... I''ve been demoted. She''s calling me ''sir'' again...


    "Who is that?!" Luke exclaims, his eyes locking on to my assistant. Ex-assistant... His curiosity is evident. He wants to know who she is, and I can''t blame him for that. After all, it''s not every day you meet a woman as beautiful and elegant as her.


    Before I can provide an answer, Veronica takes the initiative and steps closer to Luke. Her warm smile remains, but her eyes flicker with mirth as she extends a hand toward my brother. "Hi, I''m Veronica. I''m the head of the marketing team here."


    The color drains from Luke''s face, and I can practically feel the nervous energy emanating from him. My worry intensifies as he remains silent, unable to articulate a proper response.


    What the fuck is he doing? Has he never been around beautiful women?!


    "I''m Luke," he finally says. "Roman''s younger brother."


    Veronica''s laughter is a melodic sound as she takes Luke''s hand in a firm handshake. She leans in, her tone light and friendly. "It''s nice to finally meet someone from Roman''s family."


    "Are you two dating?" Luke suddenly asks.


    Does this kid have a death wish?!


    I clench my fists, resisting the urge to glare at my brother. If it wasn''t for Veronica, I would have put him in a headlock and beaten some sense into him.


    Veronica''s laughter fills the air as she shakes her head. "Oh, no... Roman and I are just work friends."


    Work friends?


    "That''s a relief!" Luke exclaims, running a hand through his hair. "I mean- er, someone as nice as you shouldn''t be with a cold bloke like Roman...."


    Fucking prick...


    "I agree with Luke!" I hear someone say.


    I snap my head back and watch as Natalie steps out of the elevator. She smiles at us and for some reason, I can''t seem to keep my eyes off the blue dress she''s wearing.


    "It''d be a real shame if a sweet girl like her ended up with a heartless son of a..." Natalie''s voice trails off as she walks past me, utterly ignoring my presence.

 Chapter 10 - Phone Call

    ¡°Since when does Natalie Foster work for you?¡±


    I ignore Luke¡¯s pestering and focus on the fiscal report that¡¯s in front of me. I want to be busy. I need to be distracted. Especially after the day I just had.


    ¡°You¡¯re going to have to tell me at some point,¡± Luke chuckles, putting both feet on the couch.


    ¡°Don¡¯t you have anything better to do!?¡± I snap back angrily. ¡°I have an idea... Why don¡¯t you go somewhere else and prepare for your interview?¡±


    Luke shrugs. ¡°I think I¡¯ll be okay... I like to wing these kind of things.¡±


    I clench my fists, debating whether I should throw the TV remote in his face. Maybe then he¡¯d leave me alone. ¡°I don¡¯t think Mother would be happy if she knew you were wasting your time doing nothing.¡±


    ¡°Can¡¯t you see that I want to spend time with you, Roman... Besides, since when do you care if mom is happy or not?¡± Luke snorts.


    I shake my head. ¡°I don¡¯t... Why don¡¯t you go check out the gym? You look like you need a workout.¡±


    ¡°You have a gym in your house?!¡±


    ¡°I live in a penthouse, Luke. There are a lot of things here... On second thought, instead of lounging in my living room, why don¡¯t you go explore my house... Maybe then, I¡¯ll be able to focus on this report.¡±


    ¡°Fine! If you really want me gone, I¡¯ll go...¡±


    As Luke disappears around the corner, I can¡¯t help but sigh with relief. I love my brother, but his meddlesome personality is unbearable at times. He¡¯s just like our mother in that regard.


    Redirecting my gaze to the report on my laptop, I make an attempt to concentrate, but my mind keeps wandering back to Natalie. I can¡¯t shake my frustration regarding the day¡¯s events. From the moment I walked into the office until I left, she treated me as though I were invisible, an unwanted presence. It¡¯s clear she¡¯s angry at me, and I hate that all I can do is wonder how long it¡¯ll be before she talks to me again.


    I open the can of iced tea that¡¯s been in my pocket for hours, hoping it¡¯ll help clear some of my thoughts. Even though I know how absurd the situation is, and that I¡¯m absolutely not at fault, I can¡¯t help but feel a pang of guilt.


    Maybe I¡¯m feeling this way because Natalie has been projecting her own idealized version of who I should be, rather than who I am. It¡¯s clear she¡¯s got a unique perception of me, and I can¡¯t quite grasp where it comes from. Does she think I¡¯m some paragon of ethics and justice, always ready to lend a helping hand? Is that what drove her to seek my help in breaking up her sister¡¯s wedding?


    Shaking my head in frustration, I set the can of iced tea on the floor. I¡¯m angry with myself. I¡¯m annoyed by my own thoughts. The only reason I can think of why she¡¯d come to me is because of our past. During my childhood years, I was like an older brother to Natalie. Whenever Madeleine and I played together, she¡¯d tag along, and we¡¯d take care of her.


    No! It still doesn¡¯t make sense! I don¡¯t think she¡¯d trust me just because I was nice to her when we were kids...


    Thinking back on it, was it possible that I was missing some of my memories? I couldn¡¯t put my finger on it. When it came to my high school years, my recollections of Natalie were notably scarce. In fact, I could only recall one instance where I¡¯d seen her. It was a memory of her in the library, braces glistening, glasses perched on her nose. I was in my senior year and she was a freshman...


    Is that why I feel strangely responsible for her?


    I knew that in a perfect world, what I was suggesting would seem irrational. Crazy even. Unfortunately, that wasn¡¯t the case for me. Back in my senior year of high school, I¡¯d been in a car accident where I suffered severe trauma to the head. Or at least, that¡¯s what I was told. Even after a decade, I had little to no recollection of the actual accident. All I remembered was waking up to the bright lights of the hospital...


    ¡°Dude, your crib is amazing!¡± Luke yells, snapping me out of my thoughts. ¡°How expensive was this freaking place?¡±


    Deciding that there¡¯s no way I¡¯ll get through this fucking report, I close my laptop and toss it on the couch. ¡°I¡¯m not entirely sure.¡±


    ¡°At least give me an estimate,¡± Luke pleads as he falls on the couch, nearly hitting my laptop.


    If he hits my laptop, I¡¯ll fucking break his nose...


    ¡°It¡¯s worth just over thirty million.¡±


    ¡°Thirty million dollars?!¡±


    I nod.


    ¡°That¡¯s insane,¡± Luke exclaims.


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    I shake my head and sigh as I head to the kitchen. I¡¯ve grown tired of playing the numbers game, especially with people close to me. Truth be told, I don¡¯t like talking about how much money I have. Maybe a couple of years ago I would have been more excited to show off my wealth, but not anymore. I¡¯ve grown used to it.


    ¡°What do you want for dinner?¡± I call out, making sure Luke can hear me from the living room.


    ¡°I want pizza, but I¡¯m good with whatever.¡±


    I chuckle at his response. Sometimes it feels like Luke can read my mind. It¡¯s been almost a year since I¡¯ve eaten pizza, and in these last couple of weeks, I¡¯ve been craving to have one. ¡°What kind?¡±


    I hear Luke walk into the kitchen just as I finish setting the timer for my coffee machine. ¡°I¡¯m good with whatever... Preferably, pepperoni.¡±


    ¡°I see that you still have zero taste, little brother.¡±


    ¡°We both know pepperoni pizza is the way to go,¡± Luke says, snapping his fingers.


    ¡°I disagree.¡±


    ¡°Do you? Don¡¯t tell me your capitalistic palette has become too fancy for peasant food?!¡±


    Ok, that¡¯s it! I¡¯ve had it with this little shit...


    Just as I¡¯m about to unleash a torrent of words at my brother, a vibration in my pocket interrupts my brewing storm. I let out a sigh as I reach for my phone.


    ¡°What?!¡± I bark into the mic, my irritation already at its peak.


    ¡°Do you always answer your calls like that!?¡± The voice on the other end takes me by surprise, and I recognize it instantly. It¡¯s Natalie!


    Before I can reply, Natalie launches a full frontal assault. ¡°I¡¯m really angry at you, Roman... You know, before I started working for you, I heard from so many people that you were this big, heartless asshole. People told me you were someone I should steer clear of.¡± There¡¯s a pause, filled with a sigh. ¡°I never believed them. I thought they were lying. I always believed you were the same nice boy I knew when we were kids... I thought that if there was somebody out there who would help me and support me, it¡¯d be you...¡±


    As her voice quivers, I detect the sound of tears, and I¡¯m left bewildered by the whole situation. I never expected this call, let alone the emotional outpouring.


    ¡°Are you okay?¡± I ask, my voice far softer than I intended.


    ¡°What do you care?¡± she retorts bitterly, but her anger is laced with vulnerability.


    I roll my eyes, but the truth is, I care more than I¡¯d like to admit. I know well enough to recognize the signs, and the background noise suggests that she¡¯s out somewhere, not in the best state of mind.


    ¡°Where are you?¡± I ask, clenching my fists. It¡¯s clear she¡¯s been drinking, and I¡¯m afraid something bad might happen if I do nothing.


    Natalie hesitates for a moment, and I can hear her struggle internally. She finally gives in, sighing softly. ¡°I¡¯m at Goto, the bar down on Eldridge.¡±


    ¡°Stay put, don¡¯t leave,¡± I instruct, my concern overshadowing my irritation with her. ¡°I¡¯ll be there in twenty.¡±


    *                       *                          *


    I instruct George to wait in the car, giving him a few vague words about a friend who needs help, then quickly make my way to the dimly lit Japanese bar. The scent of sizzling teriyaki and the murmur of patrons fill the air as I enter. I scan the room, my eyes adjusting to the dim lighting.


    I spot her in a dim corner, her fiery hair like a beacon in the dark. Natalie sits alone, nursing a glass of what I assume is something stronger than apple juice. She doesn¡¯t notice me immediately. I take a moment to watch her discreetly, an unexpected sense of protectiveness washing over me.


    As I approach her, I notice the frustration in her eyes as she stares at her drink. Her once feisty attitude now seems sombre, her snippiness replaced by a sense of vulnerability. It¡¯s not the Natalie I¡¯ve seen in these last couple of days.


    ¡°What do you think you''re doing?!¡± I ask, sliding into the seat next to hers. She jumps in her chair, her wide eyes meeting mine, her cheeks flushed from the alcohol.


    ¡°Roman?¡± She blinks in surprise and then scowls. ¡°What are you doing here?¡±


    I chuckle, leaning back in my chair. ¡°You called me. Remember?¡±


    Her expression is a mix of skepticism and frustration. ¡°I did!? I don¡¯t remember... Whatever the case, why¡¯d you come? I thought you didn¡¯t care?¡±


    Before I can reply, she takes another sip of her drink and looks away. It¡¯s hard to read her. Her emotions seem to be flickering from irritation to something else, something more vulnerable.


    ¡°What¡¯s going on, Natalie?¡± I ask, my voice softer this time. ¡°Why are you here?¡±


    She scoffs, trying to brush it off, but the vulnerability returns to her eyes. ¡°I don¡¯t need you to babysit me, Roman. Just go back to your fancy penthouse and leave me alone.¡±


    Despite her snippy response, I can tell something is bothering her. I can see it in the way her shoulders slump and the weariness in her eyes. Funnily enough, she used to do the same thing when we were children. Whenever she got caught when we played tag, she¡¯d pull that same face until either Madeleine or I conceded and gave her a second chance.


    ¡°Natalie, I¡¯m not here to babysit you,¡± I say firmly. ¡°I just want to make sure you¡¯re safe.¡±


    Her icy exterior cracks, and she glares at me with a mixture of anger and fragility. ¡°Stop acting like you care, Roman... After all, we haven¡¯t seen each other in forever...¡±


    ¡°So what if we haven¡¯t seen each other in a while?¡±


    ¡°Just leave me alone, ¡± Natalie says, rolling her eyes.


    I lean in closer, our faces only inches apart, my voice low and serious. ¡°There''s nothing you can say to change my mind... I can''t leave you like this.¡±


    Her gaze wavers, and for a moment, the fire in her eyes softens. "I... I still don''t understand why you''re doing this..."


    "Because I care about you, Natalie! Why else would I be here?"


    "You... you care about me?"


    I reach out and gently take her hand, surprising both of us with the touch. Her fingers feel warm, a stark contrast to the cool facade she usually maintains. ¡°Yes, I do.¡±


    What the fuck am I even doing?! Why am I holding her hand?!?


    She hesitates for a moment, her guard wavering. ¡°Does that mean you¡¯ll help me? With my sister that is...¡±


    I can¡¯t help but smile, my thumb tracing circles on her hand. ¡°I think that¡¯s a conversation for another time.¡±


    She pulls her hand away and scowls at me. ¡°No! I want to talk now!¡±


    My God... How can she be so adorable when she¡¯s drunk?


    I chuckle. ¡°Can we at least go somewhere else to speak? I can barely hear myself through the music...¡±


    Natalie finally manages a small smile, though it¡¯s still laced with skepticism. ¡°Fine, you win. Let¡¯s go somewhere else.¡±


    ¡°Alright, let¡¯s get you out of here,¡± I say as I help her up.


    As we walk through the bar, there¡¯s a subtle shift in our dynamic. The familiar snippiness remains, but there¡¯s something else between us now, something that suggests we¡¯re more than just old acquaintances. I lead her to the car where George is waiting and help her inside.


    ¡°Where to, sir?¡± George asks as he slips into the driver¡¯s seat.


    I pull out my phone and text Luke to wait for me in the lobby. ¡°Take us to my place.¡±