Chapter 6 06

"You're n-not Dylan's girlfriend?"

I arched my brow and lifted one shoulder in a lazy shrug. "Do I look like his girlfriend?" I said, deliberately sarcastic. I noticed her expression darken at my answer, but I brushed it off like it didn't matter.

"Danielle, I already told you... that's not Brielle," the other woman scolded. If I wasn't mistaken, she was Maurice Fontanilla. I'd met her once before. I was close to her mother.

Danielle clicked her tongue, clearly irritated. "How was I supposed to know? They look alike!"

My brows shot up at that. I cleared my throat, drawing their attention, then straightened and pointed at myself. "Are you saying I look like Brielle Clarkson?" I asked as disbelief dripped from my voice.

"You know who Dylan's girlfriend is?" Iverson Fontanilla asked as if he's studying me carefully. I met his gaze without flinching.

I shrugged again. "Of course. Your family's well-known, and Brielle Clarkson's from a business family too. I know who she is," I said, then looked away.

"W-We're really sorry, Miss," Maurice began nervously. "Our cousin was furious, so she thought you were Brielle. You just kind of look like her-"

"Excuse me?" I cut in dramatically, snapping my gaze back to her. "I look like Brielle Clarkson? Absolutely not."

I swept my hair back and let out an exaggerated sigh. This wasn't the first time people had said that. Even coworkers mentioned it sometimes. Sure, we looked a little alike. But no. Hard pass.

"I'm way prettier than her. Come on. Are you all blind?" I rolled my eyes.

They exchanged looks before shaking their heads and laughing quietly. My brows knitted together. "Are you laughing at me?" I challenged them, since they didn't seem to be stopping.

To my surprise, Danielle, who had been glaring at me earlier, tapped my shoulder while laughing like I was some kind of stand-up act. What the hell?

"No, no... don't be offended," she said between laughs. "You're right. Guess my eyesight really is bad."

That, at least, made me feel a little better.

I cleared my throat and fixed my posture. "As it should. That was an insult, you know."

If they hadn't been furious at that woman, they probably would've thought I was full of myself, but I was just telling the truth. I'd known Brielle Clarkson since high school. I was a freshman; she was a junior. I knew how she was back then, and from what I'd seen over the years, she hadn't changed at all.

I shook my head. Dylan Fontanilla was unbelievably unlucky. His girlfriend already had a terrible personality, and she still cheated on him? Damn. When misfortune rained down, he must've been standing right under it.

"Anyway, I should get going," I said, glancing at the house they'd been ringing for a while now. "I noticed she's not letting you in. She's inside, probably just avoiding you. I saw her come home this morning while I was jogging."

They all turned toward the house.

"If she won't open the door, we could just throw a rock at the window-" Danielle started.

"Danielle," the others cut in at the same time.

I sighed and crossed my arms. "There's a back entrance. She used it this morning. There's a spare key hidden under the smallest plant pot."

Maurice frowned at me. "I'm sorry to ask, but... how do you know that?"

"I saw it while jogging. She probably thought no one was around and got careless," I explained calmly. "Don't worry, I'm not a thief. I live in this neighborhood too."

I hadn't spoken to Brielle much despite living nearby. She rarely went out. I'd only noticed the key by accident.

"Then why help us?" Iverson asked. "You could get in trouble if we do something bad."

I looked up at him. His expression had shifted as if he was serious and intent. Like he genuinely wanted to know. Was he suddenly interested in me?

I shrugged. "You said she cheated on your cousin, right? Whatever you do, she deserves it. Cheaters need consequences."

I smiled sweetly.

He didn't reply after that, just looked away. I couldn't help chuckling.

"Well, I'll be going. Good luck with whatever you're planning," I said. "Make sure she gets what she deserves."

I winked, turned, and walked off.

I hadn't gone far when Danielle called after me. "Wait! what's your name? You never introduced yourself. Maybe we could hang out sometime."

A soft laugh escaped me. I didn't expect that.

I shrugged over my shoulder. "Nah. I don't think my name matters. Let's just keep it a mystery."

I flagged down a cab shortly after. I was curious about what they were going to do, but not curious enough to stay. Besides, I had bigger problems. Like where I'd be staying the next few days.

Right on cue, my phone buzzed. Aziel had sent an address not far from where I was. I considered walking, but it was getting dark, and I was alone.

Before getting in, I caught sight of the cousins heading toward the back of the Clarkson house. Not that I cared... I just hoped they wouldn't do anything illegal. I didn't want to get dragged into it. At least they didn't know my name.

I showed the driver the address and settled into the seat. Only then did I finally breathe out.

I leaned back, staring out the window.

As much as I thought the Fontanillas were decent people, I knew they'd never be comfortable around me. Iverson's father, Attorney Damon Fontanilla, was the prosecutor in my father's case. I met him last month. He seemed kind... though I didn't know if it was genuine or just an act to get me to testify.

Either way, I didn't care.

What mattered was that my father went to prison.

And Dylan Fontanilla, the eldest cousin, was the lieutenant handling the case.

I shook my head, cutting off my thoughts.

I still couldn't believe Brielle cheated on him. For what reason? He was practically perfect. No wonder his cousins were furious.

"Ma'am, we're here."

I snapped out of my thoughts and looked outside. This was the bar Aziel mentioned. It looked... nice.

I paid the fare and stepped out. The place was brightly lit, already busy despite the night. My brows furrowed.

Was I really supposed to sleep here?

I straightened and walked toward the entrance... only to be stopped by a guard.

"Sorry, ma'am. No minors allowed."

I looked at him flatly. "Do I look like a minor?"

To my disbelief, he nodded.

My eyes widened. Me? A minor?

"I'm twenty-six. I've graduated college. I'm not underage," I said, keeping my voice calm.

He scanned me anyway, then shook his head. "Do you have an ID?"

I sighed and opened my purse. Then I froze.

"Shit," I muttered.

"I need to see your birthday, ma'am."

I closed my purse slowly and looked at him apologetically. "I... left my ID at home."

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you in without one. I don't want to lose my job."

I stomped my foot lightly, frustrated, running my fingers through my hair. Going back home meant another lecture. I couldn't go to Aziel's either.

"I know I look young," I pleaded, "but I'm not. I just forgot my ID. I even know the owner-uh-what was his name again?"

I frowned, digging through my memory. "Ugh. I forgot."

Why hadn't I listened earlier?

"I know her."

That voice.

I turned around instantly and my eyes widened.

It was him.

"She's a minor," he said coldly. "Don't let her in."

"What? I am not a freaking minor!" I snapped.

He raised a brow. "You look like one."

Then he walked past me and disappeared into the crowd.

Before he vanished completely, he glanced back just for a second. There was something in his eyes. Anger? Or was I imagining it?

My lips parted.

Was he angry at me?

"Oh. Right," I muttered. "He got cheated on."

I clenched my fists as I turned away.

"Dylan Fontanilla," I whispered bitterly, "you really are trouble."