A Callous Player

Four years ago,

"Advocate Winchester, I was just on my way to the post office."

On my way to the subway, my phone vibrated in my bag. Stopping at the side of a busy street in São Paulo, I turned to the side of an alley and picked up the call from my lawyer.

She gasped, not believing what I told her, "You got all the certificates? That's great! The next hearing is next week. Your presence here is very much needed, Emily, even if it is your friend's parents taking her custody. Do you want me to book a ticket for you?"

"I still need grandpa's signature, ma'am. Mom's share would save my sister. You know that." My eyes welled up the more I thought about it. Bringing the cell close to my mouth, I started walking while I tried hard to keep my voice even. "He knows I am here, but he didn't allow me in his home or even let his butler tell me where they admitted dad this time. I know dad isn't in a good state."

My father raised me alone. He was always there for me whenever I needed him. For my happiness, he could give me the whole world. But I couldn't be there. I lost my right to be with my father when I chose to leave my home with my three-year-old sister.

I saw the bus leaving that I wanted to catch for the post office.

If I had taken off running, I wouldn't have missed that, yet I stood there in my place as it triggered the memory of that day when the authority of children and family development took my sister from my home.

I could never explain how much it hurt to see the child I had to raise taken away from me.

There was a time I did wrong to her too. My grandparents brought her home when she was not even two, a fruit of one of my parents' extra-marital affairs. The everyday quarrel between my parents made me hate her so much that I tried not to walk past her room.

Everything changed that day when I eventually accepted her and prayed to God to make things right between our parents so we could be a happy family. That wish soon took mom from us. . .and dad. We had to admit him to the mental health hospital.

Mrs. Winchester sneered. "I wish I could take some legal action against that man, but that would delay the process."

My grandpa wasn't someone one should cross.

I wouldn't have known how he was until he went to dad's home and asked for Cheryl. To send her back from wherever he found her.

"And I don't want my sister to suffer more," I said in a deadpan tone. "I will keep you updated if I get anything we could use to win the case. I might be late, but I will come back soon. Please help my friend's parents to get her custody. That is what I want."

"We will win this case, Emily. But you have to give me your word. No matter what happens, you will not remove the locket I gave you." My eyes traveled down from the silk stole around my neck, and I noticed the locket of my chain through my floral shirt. "Keep your phone close to you. Call that number on your speed dial immediately if you feel like you're in danger, alright?"

If only you knew why I had to visit my psychiatrist once a month during his lunch break. Yet, I promised my lawyer, "I'll, ma'am."

Even the doctor's assistant had to force a smile on her face to hide her irritation whenever she saw me stepping into the clinic. One day the doc would feel the same when he would finally open his eyes and start seeing me as a burden. Of course, he would. Just because he was mom's friend doesn't change the fact that I had been using him since he extended his helping hand to me. He helped me so many times with my mental health, but I couldn't pay him. How could I pay him when I had to save money for the court?

I had to wait for another fifteen minutes for the right bus that would drop me near the post office on the way.

The envelope in my bag would decide my sister's destiny. It didn't matter to the court that I had dropped my career as a professional swimmer and worked three different places in a day to earn more so I could provide for that girl. Even the one million dollars I saved for her wasn't enough, as money wasn't everything. To them, I was incapable. I wasn't responsible enough to raise a baby.

Then for whom would I want to live? A reason I needed to keep this life and go on. Like the bustle of people, I took in my surroundings. Tired eyes even looked lively as if they knew their reasons. Most of them were returning from their workplace with groceries in their hands. . .like they had someone waiting at home, a family for whom they would cook delicious items for dinner.

It was another Friday night, after all. A person wouldn't want to waste that time hanging out with drunk strangers in a bar.

From a distance, I caught a familiar model of the Cadillac XTS coming towards the stoppage where I had been standing for the last couple of minutes. My grandpa usually traveled in that same black car. Could it be him? My mood brightened up instantly when I remembered I still had those papers with me where I wanted his signature to get my mother's share that she had in dad's company.

It was shameless of me to demand her assets, but I needed that money desperately to get my sister back in my life.

Please let it be him. Please, Lord. Please let it be my grandpa.

I started walking toward the car, keeping my eyes on the windshield. I would chase that car if I saw my grandpa in the back seat.

The car suddenly slowed down with a jerk as it halted with a screeching sound at a distance, making my heart rate spike up in dreading anticipation. I moved closer to get a better view of the passengers inside, at least as I had seen all of my grandpa's drivers in his mansion in this city, but it killed all my hopes effortlessly when I didn't see any familiar faces in the driver's seat of that car.

Maybe he is grandpa's new driver! You know how he changes every worker in his mansion frequently.

After reasoning with myself, I walked by the side of one of the streets of São Paulo and stopped only four feet away from that Cadillac XTS. Though I couldn't see who was sitting in the back seat clearly from that distance, I felt in my skin that he was watching me. And that look I got from the bulky person in the passenger seat was enough to have my heart jump in my throat.

Yet I didn't step back and check the time on my wristwatch instead. Raising my chin, I put an annoyed scowl on my face and pushed past the travelers or passengers from my way while I pretended to see the vehicles behind that damn car in the middle of the road.

Let's have a look, okay?

To make sure it wasn't grandpa in the backseat, I thought about walking past the car, and I did it holding my breath. The light in my eyes dimmed again when I saw a suited man in his late twenties on that seat, and my face fell in dismay before I could stop myself.

Well. . .we understand you have been struggling with your life to make things right, but why are you so hell-bent on ruining others' day? Do you think only you have problems and others don't? You can't sulk in disappointment in front of a stranger like that!

My subconscious mind sneers at me, making me jerk my chin up and see the car to my side. Though that tinted black glass didn't let me notice that man's expression in the backseat clearly, the jaded burn on my face made it quite obvious I pissed him off for good.

I muttered a quick apology before walking past that car, hoping he wouldn't take it that I had cursed him or something like that.

I left the stoppage far behind me, but I couldn't bring myself to turn around and go back because that car was still there.

The driver was outside, checking the tires and the engine, maybe because their car broke down, and then I saw the bus stand become crowded suddenly as the suited man finally stepped out of the car with that scary-looking tall bodybuilder guy in the passenger seat.

A frown married on my face when people took out their phones and began taking shots of that platinum blonde-haired man.

"OMG! Guys! Look who we have here!"

"Bash! Oh, lord. Is that him?"

"Argh! I can't believe my luck. May I take a picture with you?"

"Can we have your autograph, please? I am so glad to meet you, sir."

"I am a great fan of yours, Bash."

Some starry-eyed Portuguese beauties even came forward with a pen and pad in their hand, but that man's eyes were not on them but me. And he didn't look pleased to see me at all, yet he ran his gaze boringly on me from head to toe, which was downright creepy.

Gulping hard, I looked away from him and hoped my bus would come a little earlier.

I dared not to pray that to God because he considered me his favorite child, who he loved to trouble for entertainment. Once, I prayed to that sweet man in heaven for a peaceful family, and he took my agitated parents away from my life. I asked him to bless my boyfriend and me to be good parents to Cheryl, and he made me a single parent. I begged him to take my pain away from my heart, and he pushed me to face the hardships a single parent faces in those legal battles to take their child home. Still, I didn't take the hint and again prayed to him for that man to be my grandpa in that damn car, and look how that cold-faced celeb was coming toward me.

My knees began to shake in dread. The strap of my bag turned wet from the sweat on my hands. I held my breath, and my desperate eyes looked for a cab, but they were full of passengers, and even if they didn't have one, they wouldn't stop for me. I caught sight of a bus coming which wouldn't pass by the street close to the post office, yet I decided to take it to avoid that possible danger.

Waving my hand, I made that bus halt and took the stairs quickly, intending to take my seat close to a group of passengers on both sides. Though the bus wasn't full of travelers, I found only one vacant seat available, so I took that and thought about taking a lift afterward. I thought I would get away from that man, but my heart dropped in my stomach when he took the bus with that stud.

I fixed my gaze on the striped bag in my lap, not wanting him to see me, but I heard footsteps, and he stood just by my seat.

My throat went dry in fear.

I moved closer to my seatmate in the window seat, even though I knew that lady wouldn't do much help because she was asleep with her headphones on. The messy-haired group before and behind me were uniformed. . .who could not be the students from the private business school nearby because of the heated discussion about who was best at roasting their spitting and sleeping beauty lab teachers for being annoyingly stingy about giving two extra marks and charging money, then and now, for already broken test tubes!

But why do they sound oblivious to the presence of this celebrity here?

Fluttering my eyelashes, I picked at this man standing by my seat and hiccuped to see him in a black face mask with dark glasses.

I looked away and forced myself to act indifferent even when my eyes showed me a red flag.

His car broke down, so he had to take that bus. Anyone in his place would have done the same too.

To terrorize someone who had no idea about his identity couldn't bring him here, right? I was just an ordinary-looking girl with three sets of dresses she repeated every week. And he looked far more qualified to be the annihilator. Who I had no count of anyway.

But I had my hoodie on, so they could only get my side view. . .not my entire face, which only this celeb could see if I let him.

He didn't say anything or even react, which was a relief. And I started to let my guard down and turned my gaze toward the window. The ticket collector came toward my seat, and I paid my fare, even though my heart ached to hand him my dinner fees. I hoped my roommate would be kind enough to let me use her induction to boil my water and give me some sugar for my coffee.

A few stoppages later, my seatmate stirred from her seat and got up after shoving her headphones in her bag.

Quite naturally, I shifted to the window seat, as that one had always been my favorite, well, of course, excluding the flight, as I had a fear of heights, and then, in the meantime, I forgot about that man who now took mine with no good intentions in his eyes.

I froze when a hand reached for the window's handle at my side. It nearly brushed my cheek, and I had to press my back tight into my seat. Holding my breath, I watched that man from the corner of my eyes and saw his already on mine, not on the window he was trying to open. The sweat on his forehead and his nose made me feel bad for this man, as the endurance of humidity in the summertime in Brazil didn't look like a cup of tea to him, even if it was average that day.

Showing my palm, I waved and hinted at him to move his hand from the window, to which he complied like the good man he was. He had it slippery, the lock, I mean. I pressed my lips in a thin line and opened them for him, much to my dismay.

I never liked the odor of burned rubber on the tires. It made me sick, so I ground my teeth and pressed my back more into the seat.

"Are you from here?"

I choked in my saliva when I heard that from him.

Releasing the breath I had to hold for a while, I asked, forcing him a smile, "Why?"

"Do you know this area?" That man showed me a written address in red ink on the paper, taking it out of his chest pocket. My throat again went dry when it turned out the bar I worked at night. I felt my palms getting sweaty because that ink was also triggering. My nerve would have given out if he hadn't added the next thing, "I have a friend to meet. Where is the next train station, if I may ask?"

He sounded polite, and that was enough to put me at ease.

"Oh. . .this bus will take you directly, but you have to wait for nearly two hours as it covers most of the streets of this entire city." Getting a grip on myself, I suggested to him, "Better if you take a cab after seven stoppages from here. . .if you are in a hurry."

"Guess I have to take your advice. . ." He sighed and took that note away from me. I didn't think of the need to press the matter more. So as I was about to turn my gaze back to the window, that small smile I had on my face that always appeared when the cool breeze outside touched my face now fell when he said in a deep baritone voice with his mouth very close to mine, "Even though you are the first woman who looked at me in disappointment, I can't be that mean to you now that you have helped me with the address, can I ?"

My blood ran cold with fear.

After turning my head to his side, I looked at him, speechless. I was petrified of how smooth his voice sounded, making me crave my favorite dessert, cheesecake, and black coffee in a lush green forest and white sand turquoise blue water beach. Then I noticed his eyes behind those dark shades he had on. The color of his eyes wasn't possible for me to see, but I felt how cold they were as he lingered on my face. In other circumstances, I would have apologized to him. That sorry word was still there on the tip of my tongue, yet I couldn't say that aloud. He could be some Prince of arrogance, but my mother loved to call me the Queen of stubbornness.

Judging by how pale my face was from not having a proper meal for the last few days, he mistook that for my fear that I felt intimidated by him, so he chuckled with a scoff and took out his phone while relaxing his tall suited and booted figure in that seat.

His brows knitted when he tapped on the screen several times, but it didn't open. Pressing the power button on the side of his iPhone, he tried to unlock it, and again the result was the same. I turned my head to the other side with an expression of oblivion.

My eyes enlarged when my cell vibrated in my bag.

After a cough, I had to press my thighs together to hide that noise, but I nearly squirmed when that man cursed loudly, groaning in annoyance, "Oh, shit. My phone is dead now. Can I use yours?" Gripping my bag tight, I looked at him, who sneered at me, "It's my mom I want to call. She is worried about me as she knows how I hate to lose. I lost my deal today to my competitor, you know. So, it can't put me in a good mood, and then your face..." He let his voice linger, eyes gazing at me disapprovingly.

The look he gave me made me feel like I was the one to blame for having a bad day. And that boiled my blood. I didn't even know him. How could he expect me to fangirl him? If that's what he expected from me, then sorry, I was not good at faking things.

Lowering my gaze, I lied through my teeth, "I don't have a phone."

"You don't!" He laughed drily. "Then whose phone is vibrating in that handbag on your lap?"

I got goosebumps on my skin, feeling his eyes on my bag. My cell phone wasn't vibrating then, but maybe he had heard that sound when I received a message a moment ago. "Outgoing call not available on this number. . .the recharge plan has expired, I mean."

"Oh? That's bad!" He sounded concerned about me. Though what I said was the half-truth, it turned things even creepier when he played with his expensive handset, tossing and twisting causally like he wouldn't care if that broke, and then I heard his amused laughter. "How poor can someone be to do monthly recharge on her number." Bringing his face closer, he asked in curiosity, "Or is it your daddy who caught you stalking people like us, so he chose this hard way to put a leash on his little girl?"

I would have thought he was talking about the monthly allowance some parents hand to their children, but no, it didn't sound like that. He meant something way too dirty, and an instant disgust rose in my heart for him. I wished those kids were quiet and hadn't lost their calm with their teachers. Their blunt português courses, making even the driver laugh with the rest of their passengers.

Glaring at that man, I stood up, "Move, please. My stoppage is here."

But he didn't take the hint. I regretted the moment I chose the window seat when I had that creep on my side.

"How old are you?" He asked, tilting his head at me.

His gaze on my body made me uncomfortable, so I spat, clutching my bag tight, "Old enough to throw a harassment case at you."

"So do I. . .for stalking me all the way here, Miss. The footage there with you circling my car would make it obvious."

My cheeks turned as white as a sheet after hearing him. His no-nonsense confession screamed I would be in trouble. He could use that street footage to put me behind the bar skillfully, but why did he keep calling me a stalker? He was the one who followed me here on the bus and stood by my seat. He even asked me for my phone! Didn't he have his gym guy here with him? That question made me look up, only to look down, seeing that stud standing a few rows before our seat, watching me like I was some criminal.

"But don't worry, lass. I'll not do that," His voice took me out of the trance. Moving his body slightly to the other side, he cleared my way to leave that seat and said huskily, "It is not my thing to punish pretty little girls like you. And. . .do get a real job next time."

I stared at him blankly and got out of my seat.

My hands ached to tear off his mask and show all who would recognize him as a celebrity like the passengers in that stoppage did. But my parents raised me to be like that. I knew I was better, and this man had no clue who I was, just like I didn't know him.

"Thanks for your concern, but I strongly suggest you get a life, sir!" Before getting off that bus, I thought about giving him a reality check. So, I brought my face close to him and smiled genuinely at him as I said, "The universe doesn't revolve around you."

His expression darkened behind those dark glasses and black face masks. Those heavy breaths said that all.

Before he got a chance to make any snarky remark, the bus halted before a stoppage, and I jogged down the bus.

I felt his eyes when I took a non-ac bus to the post office. Turning around, I waved at him and hoped I would never see him again.

"I still don't get why you have to open the window for that creepy celebrity guy when you were on that AC bus. Aren't they supposed to be close?"

I cringed at the tone my friend used on me.

"The machine wasn't working properly, maybe." I prayed to her secretly not to make me repeat the same thing after two minutes. No matter what I said, Helen wasn't ready to take any of it, as she had sensed I wasn't telling everything to her.

Looking at my reflection in the mirror in the men's locker room, I fixed the messy pony that I tied in a manly way between the crown and the nape before coming to the club. The dark shade of makeup and my dark lens hid the softness of my square face. My strong jaw, above-average height, and my tanned skin that caused the humid temperature in Brazil were a plus, and the muscle I gained from my ritual exercise, and having my apartment close to the beach, my swimming regularly twice helped to bring out the look of a young countryside man I desperately wanted. And there was that rented motorcycle of mine. . .my female colleagues sometimes made it hard for me to keep my expression neutral with their stares that should be only at the men or the guests they had to serve.

"I don't know why, but I don't feel like trusting you, Millie. How come the rest of the passengers didn't object to that?"

"Let's not talk more about that seatmate or the bus, Helen. Asking for my money back to the conductor didn't come to my mind then. And I wouldn't have asked." Tossing my comb back into my backpack, I zipped that up and put on my apron and cap after locking my cell, "The manager will lose his cool if he doesn't see me there in two minutes."

She scoffed, "I am sending money to your account."

"Hah! That's funny."

"I mean it, my dear. Your coach and his son are on their way to São Paulo to teach your beloved grandfather a lesson."

"Helenite! Are you out of your mind?" The fear I had to force myself to lock somewhere in my mind came alive again, making me lose my calm. "Why did you contact them when I told you we didn't want their involvement in this case?"

"Have some faith in me, will you? The media won't know a thing about you or Cheryl's custody. They will be careful."

"But still, it does not- "

"And then you are in that foreign country. It has almost been a year, Emily. Whenever Cheryl asks me to call you, your number says either out of reach or currently switched off. Sometimes it cuts after those annoying beeping sounds." I paled as she went on. My chest tightened when her voice wavered but raised her tone to sound how pissed she was. "I know your reasons. Everyone here is aware of them. But your sister. . .she is too little to understand this stuff even if she is smart and more mature than those children her age in that children's home. Tell me how I would answer it if one day she asks me if her Millie Billie even wants her?"

I bit my trembling lips and tried to push back the tears that started to gather in my eyes. I wanted to apologize, but to whom? My sister? My best friend and her parents? Or to my mother for failing to keep my promise? Or to my father for not being there for him?

"Damn it!"

I kicked my locker out of frustration.

"Hey, there. I am here to manage it, okay? No need to beat yourself up!" To brighten our mood, she said, "Advocate Winchester told my parents that the chance to get permission to bring Cheryl home at the next hearing is high, as now that she has those documents in her hand."

I nodded firmly. "I am aware, but- "

"Elias?"

Hearing the knock on the door, I hurriedly said, "Hey, I have to go now."

"Okay, keep those devices or ornaments with you close to you. It will be a good help to track you down if you are in trouble."

"I'll, Helen. I will be careful." With that, I cut the call.

He had to be my colleague, but why wasn't he coming in? I left the door unlocked, didn't I?

The poor guy's voice held urgency as he pleaded with me, "Oh, come on! Open the damn door already now, will you? It's urgent!"

As I unlocked the door, two male colleagues rushed in, and the one who served that table pushed away, sweating hard as he made a run towards one of the toilets, "Move, will you! Did you have to lock the door, Elias?"

That other guy headed towards one of the basins, and I felt like running out immediately.

I gaped, fumbling with my belt, but that stupid thing had to give me a hard time when I was in that compromising position. It felt like someone deliberately glued a puzzle piece into the lock.

"Wow! You're fast at dressing up. No one more than you know how to catch a great deal!"

I heard the flush in the basin behind me, and he came to my side to wash his hand in the sink. While fumbling with my ties, I watched him from the corner of my eyes through the mirror, and my brows furrowed, even more, noticing that icy look in his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

Beckett, his name would be. He had a twin brother and a little cousin, but I always mistook one for another because of their identical features with the same ginger hair and brown eyes. "You think I don't know you?" He laughed humorlessly. "You are one opportunist who tends to stay low-key, but when you see the profit, you play that dark empathic role to make others think how kind you are."

I sighed, deciding to fix my belt first.

If our manager didn't promise to pay me double, I wouldn't have agreed to come to work early in the morning for the decoration for a birthday event I did in the pool bar with the help of a few of my colleagues. I now regret the day when I thought about helping them out with organizing an event here for extra money. Months ago, seeing the praise I received from their foreign clients for the food, wine, and decor, the boss and the manager never left a chance to take advantage of me using my weakness with extra money.

"What profit do you see in giving the table to Ron, Beckett?" I was careful not to raise my voice at someone who believed quarrels could be the solution to any matter. "I would have passed that to you if you weren't this judgemental."

"I won't buy your lies, Elias." He hissed at me, but I was a guy, and I couldn't flinch. Standing right in his place, he glowered, "You know about the condition of Ron's mother, and that's why you did that to win their heart. To make him grateful to you for the rest- "

Before he could finish it, Ron stepped out, and I had to hold my breath because I couldn't help it. I couldn't be happier now that Beckett had stopped his nagging, which was anything but that, yet I chose to forget the conversation that ever happened between us.

"Wear this over your apron."

I couldn't hold back my disgust when Ron threw a jacket on my face.

"Eww!" Before it touched me, I pitched on the fabric before preparing to throw it back to him. "Keep your things to yourself, Ron."

"Haha! You sound like a girl again." Laughing, he stalked towards me, "But I have washed my hands, see! I even smell like soap."

When Ronnie brought his hand close to my face, I stepped back. "Yeah! Thanks! But I have mine. Don't need- "

"Yours is old and doesn't match our color code." That time, Beckett cut me off. "So, wear that if you want to keep your job." With that saying, he headed to his locker to change, I guessed, but not before throwing his warning look at me.

I ignored him as his problem truly never mattered to me, to this low-key good guy, a mutual friend of my colleagues.

"We have guests. Some bigwig they have to be, or else who would want to sign a twenty-eight-day contract with us?" Fixing his cufflinks, Ronnie combed his black hair as he went on with his blue eyes holding mischief, "I even heard them talking about wanting a few among us to accompany them to serve them at every small to big event wherever they fix it."

Is he talking about our female colleagues?

"Better if you mind your own business, Elias." The brat hissed at me. "You don't need to be so defensive in every minor matter."

I glared at Beckett and thought about saying something before he walked out of there, but Ron stopped me by my forearm.

"Don't get him wrong."

My eyes enlarged upon hearing Ron. "You're saying this!"

Ron sighed helplessly, but his grip remained intact. "The guests are someone we should avoid at all costs. We can't afford to mess with those people." With a pointed look, he let go of my hand and patted my back, saying, "Don't forget that it is for our family we work hard for, Elias. If things go out of control, we'll leave it to our manager to handle the matter for our colleagues."

I got his point, but. . .nevermind!

I also didn't want to lose this job, which was helping me to live in this expensive city, but for just one sign from my grandpa, I had to live here, compromising my career and other responsibilities. And I was a girl, not a grown-arse man!

On our way, we ran into our four female colleagues, pushing their trolleys toward the elevator as they talked about the deal that might open an opportunity for their first-ever business trip.

"Regardless of what you believe, I think that with our budget, we can't survive in any of those states for even a week."

"I don't think we have to pay for anything when our club owners should be paying for us."

"Still, we have to pay for our meals and sightseeing if we get the chance. . .hey, Elias!" One of the girls asked, "Are you joining us?"

Before I could answer, Ronnie beat them to it. "It's the manager's order, Andréia. He won't take no for an answer."

Shrugging, I told her after noticing the trolley with them, and my suggestion made the boys halt on their steps before they took the elevator, "You girls go first with the beverages, and we guys are taking the stairs to catch you up on what floor- ?"

"Seventh,"

Beckett said through his teeth, looking pissed at me. But Ron looked okay with it, even when he was the healthier one among us.

"Fifth." Olga, the girl with the bouquet, said softly to me before seething at Beckett, "And even so, our man won't be out of breath."

"You- " Beckett's expression darkened, and I pretended like I wasn't there and took the opportunity to disappear from their sight when Ron was trying to hold that hot-tempered guy back before he picked a fight with his yet another female colleague.

But it felt good to know how I was making a score in the female's world without doing anything.

I grinned at myself at that thought, and my other colleagues working on the second, third, and fourth floors thought I was smiling at them. I greeted them politely like I usually do, before again taking the stairs to the fifth floor. And I wasn't out of breath.

"There you are!"

The moment I reached the top of the stairs, the manager rushed towards me with a wine bottle in his hand. "Take this to the poolside. They choose to chill there, so don't worry. Our boss, Roberto, will be there, so you don't have to be nervous about anything."

"No way!" From the look of it, I had to step back, not wanting to put myself in trouble for dropping something whose current market price would be near about 3.4 million approx. I had Beckett around, and not to mention, I was hell-broke then. "I won't carry that!"

"Elias, we don't have time for this. They are our special clients, and we can't make them wait for us."

"But, sir- "

"No one more than you know how to deal patiently with these kinds of clients." Before I refused him, the manager forcibly handed it to me and looked at me warningly. "And to make sure to keep you away from your female colleagues, I have to do this. Make sure I don't get any complaints about you this time. There wouldn't be anything I could do to save your arse from Mr. Kennedy."

I took the elevator with the guys for the pool bar, feeling depressed about the toxicity and unfairness to a woman and the helplessness of a man who had to think twice about doing anything when that heroic instinct in them wished nothing but to make things right.

I ran into a few men in black who blocked our way for checking.

I had to keep my gaze lower as, for some reason, I started to feel anxious whenever I saw these agents/bodyguards.

In all my life, I had to compromise my privacy with dad's men surrounding me for my protection, but now, that situation scares me more. With so many gazes on me, I couldn't tell whom I should trust or run from after so many attacks on me, and after losing both of my parents from my life, it became frequent.

And now, I am in a hideout.

Stepping into the poolside, I internally groaned at those rich people relaxing in the water. Because of these millionaires and their last-minute notice, I couldn't go to my grandpa's home for his one sign, even though I knew the chances of him showing up ran negative.

I exhaled a breath and circled the pool to reach the bar counter. With over ten to fifteen men and women present here, drinking and swirling their bodies to the tune of music, I couldn't tell how the boss would discuss things for the meeting. Then again, my dad used to attend or arrange meetings like this, so I just ignored those naked men and women as I went to place the bottle on the counter.

"I know this city is your target, Sebastian. But that man seemed very strange to work with, trust me. We can't deal with someone like him who rules not only this country but has a reach and influence throughout all South American countries."

The men in the pool talked about business in this region, which naturally caught my attention.

"You don't even want to imagine how many big MNCs and fast-growing start-ups he has destroyed in just one year. Those who thought they could suppress James Groups & Industries because of the fall of the former chairman, Eriberto Iglesias James, are now struggling to make ends meet."

I froze and was startled to an extent after hearing them taking my father's name that I nearly dropped the bottle on the ground.

"Careful!" I heard Ron's warning behind me, and Beckett quickly held my hand, sneering, "Are you here to put all of us in trouble?"

I wasn't upset about the tone Beckett used on me as he saved my arse this time.

I should thank him for that, but I couldn't just tear my gaze away from those men who kept bringing my father and grandfather's business while sipping their drinks and getting shoulder and head messages from our personnel spa team.

"Let's go back to the UK, you know, Bash? Your mother will help- "

Bash? Why does this name sound so familiar to me?

Before I got the chance to search for a clue in my memory, Beckett elbowed me, "Move!"

I again resumed walking, clutching the wine against my chest, as I was sure I didn't want to be in debt with the Kennedys. Even with the two-year contract at my Belgium home ground, I couldn't pay them more than half a million in one year.

Oh, I want to go back to my old routine. And Belgium. Mom told me to go to my coach's place with my sister as she had already made all the arrangements for us, but I was an emotional fool, and I needed my boyfriend to seek solace in his arms, who promised to be there and be a dad to Cheryl. Then life happened, and now, I could only rely on my best friend's parents and Mrs. Winchester.

"I like to do things my way to my liking without any of their interference in my business. I have thousands of people working under me. I don't need to compromise with anything after coming this far."

"I never told you to stop, Bash. Merely showing my concern, hoping that you will move to Northern America or Europe. It's better to play safe than expect the unexpected from Emmanuel Iglesias, who now wants to destroy a girl's life with the media's involvement."

I wanted to move from my place, but I felt so. . .paralyzed.

"You mean he will call the paparazzi next time if he sees her anywhere close to his place?"