Chapter 5 Fiancée or Fugitive

In the days that followed, Derek wore a perpetual scowl, looking like he might explode at any moment. No one dared approach him, let alone provoke him.

Only one fearless soul kept poking the bear. "Well, well," Alex drawled, "looks like our esteemed Mr. Arnold is lovesick for the first time. That girl must be something special. Maybe I should give her a try."

Derek's sharp eyes flickered towards him, carrying the cutting chill of a winter wind. The look intensified, and Alex finally seemed to grasp the danger.

"Got dumped?"

"Feeling bitter about it?"

"Want to kill someone?"

Alex rattled off the questions, then seemed to reconsider. He sank onto the couch, clicking his tongue with mock concern. "Hey now, that won't do. Murder lands you in prison, buddy. Don't do anything rash."

Derek's thin lips curled slightly. "You're right. I do want to kill someone. And that someone is you."

As the words left his mouth, Derek clamped an arm like steel around Alex's neck, holding tight until Alex choked and frantically signalled surrender before releasing him.

Derek's mood soured further. He pulled out Flora's student ID again, frowning. "Tell me, what's so great about her?"

"Beautiful!" Alex answered instantly.

Derek glared darkly. "What good is beautiful?"

"What do you mean, 'what good'? Besides," Alex added, leering slightly, "your little firecracker's got something, you know? That kind of vibe that makes you wanna throw her onto a bed."

Alex was still lost in his lewd fantasy when a sharp kick landed squarely on his back. He yelped, scrambling upright and clutching his spine. "Are you nuts? That hurt!"

"Don't expect honey from a wasp." Derek bit out, radiating palpable menace.

"Alright, alright! Subject dropped," Alex grumbled, straightening up with difficulty, his expression mournful. "Anyway, I looked into that thing you asked about. Flora Selena-your fiancée..." He paused, glancing at the student ID photo again, then nodded decisively. "Yep, that's her."

Derek froze for a second. He'd considered it, but confirmation still felt slightly unbelievable.

"Such a coincidence?" Derek murmured.

"Don't get your hopes up about that wedding, though," Alex added, clapping Derek on the shoulder with mock sympathy. "She's fighting it tooth and nail. She heard her relationship with Otis is trash anyway. Try not to be too heartbroken."

Derek shrugged his hand off, his eyes narrowing as if calculating something, then abruptly stood up.

Alex, confused, asked, "Where are you going? We have that meeting soon."

"It'll run fine without me. You're sufficient," Derek dismissed, grabbing his jacket and phone on his way out.

"What am I, your damn lackey?" Alex grumbled, though curiosity won out. "Seriously, where are you off to? Don't tell me you'll jump off a bridge over some girl?"

Derek paused at the door, a calculating glint in his eyes. "Naturally," he replied smoothly, "I'm going to find my fiancée. To discuss wedding arrangements."

Alex stared after Derek's retreating figure, muttering a few curses. Seriously? Is Derek going senile at twenty-seven? Did his hearing suddenly go bad? Wasn't I clear just now? The girl hasn't even agreed! What damn wedding is he talking about?

Derek drove around the city for a while before realizing he had no idea where to find Flora. He pulled out his phone and called Alex.

Derek heard Alex's recklessly cheerful voice as soon as the call connected. "Ah, so the great Mr. Arnold is calling to ask for the little lady's address, is he?"

"Spit it out. Don't waste my time," Derek said, tapping his fingers impatiently as he waited at a red light, taking the opportunity to light a cigarette.

On the other end, Alex fumed, veins practically popping. One guy is swamped at the office, handling crisis after crisis with barely time to eat, while the other leisurely cruises bars and clubs-and he's worried about wasting his time?

"I don't know. I'm busy," Alex gritted out. "Find her yourself if you care so much."

Derek easily detected his friend's frustration. He chuckled. "Alright, tell me, and I'll give you three days off once you've taken care of it."

Alex was silent for a few seconds, then started haggling. "Five days!"

"Two!"

Alex saw red. "Four!" he barked.

"One!"

"Sir Arnold, don't push it!" Alex practically strangled the phone, imagining it was Derek's neck.

"Then forget the days off. I don't need you anyway," Derek said coolly.

Alex reacted instantly, blurting out, "Okay, okay! Three days, deal! Sending the address right now."

Afraid Derek would change his mind, Alex hung up immediately. Anyone else, maybe, but Derek was a known bloodsucker. If he could grind someone down, he'd leave nothing but dust. Prying even one day off from him was more challenging than climbing Mount Everest; Alex wasn't about to lose this precious chance.

Derek pulled over to the side of the road. After finishing his cigarette, he checked his phone. Alex's message had arrived. He narrowed his eyes at the address, doubting its authenticity.

Despite the rift with her parents, Flora was still a Selena. Someone like her wouldn't end up in this rundown place unless something went wrong.

After a moment's thought, Derek stood before the Willow Creek Housing Apartments, a complex marked for future demolition.

The place was old and lacked security-just a rusty main door you could push open if you had the code. Derek let out a short, humourless laugh, wondering what kind of hellhole he'd just walked into. There was no elevator, forcing him to climb seven flights of stairs, finally stopping before a door painted deep blue. Some neighbours kept plastic flowers or chipped gnomes by their doors, but this one didn't bother with even that.