On Poison & Wine... surprisingly, I still get more and more reviews/faves/follows for it and since there's no more 'next chapter' to address them, I would like to take this opportunity to thank everybody, and I mean everybody who's been giving love and support to the series. And DarkWriterXX94 for the beautiful wallpaper you did (still crying happy tears). Poison & Wine readers: please check it out at darkwriterxx94 deviantart com :)
Now back to Stolen... we have more than 100 followers now! Thank you so much, people! I hope we get more :)
madness2013, lauwer: SPOILER (?) Vegas won't be fun anyway.
mrebel1992: Please don't expect a Poison&Wine type of MitchSen friendship here, you're just going to be disappointed at me. And thank you so much for deciding not to be a very quiet cricket. :)
theothergranger, avidreader, DCG-Charlie, Monkeyfuncky: Thank you! :)
BeChloeFan: I love you too :)
cheezels: Thanks! I love that part, too. I guess that made me favorite the chapter. :) I, myself, am surprise at how I was able to develop Beca's character here - from that of a cold-blooded criminal to this protective bodyguard. I'm happy at how the story is becoming.
GinNoSaji: I think Chloe is one of the most interesting characters in movie history, but I needed to modify her for the story. I needed her to be portrayed weak, but at the same time retaining that vibrant personality.
cxcxcx386, XxSendrickShipperxX, MysticFalls94, wrrrby: You hate Tom? Excellent! :)
Ilumiinous: Aww, an award would be pretty awesome! :)
Now about the chapter... Yeah, it's Las Vegas but well, it's not about it...
CHAPTER SEVEN: Invader
While Jesse stood in front of his teammates as he made a recap of their progress, Fat Amy pensively watched Stan consume this cup of yogurt… strawberry flavor, by the way. For some reason, she found it sexy the way this demi-god (there's no other way to explain his royal hotness) would dig the spoon into the cup then sexily put the food into his mouth. So when a small amount of it drip onto his plain white shirt and he deliberately took it off then threw it somewhere on the floor revealing his sculpted body, Fat Amy could simply lick her lips in delight. All three were so engrossed into their own sphere of life that nobody noticed that the last member of their team was too quiet than her normal self.
"So far this is what we've got," Jesse showed what was on display on a portable whiteboard beside him. "A stolen treasure, a dead Benji, an extremely secured Clarence Beale, a top-secret and highly protected vault, and a very puzzling note left for us… not so much resources, actually."
He turned towards the rest of the team for feedbacks and the only one completely on the same page with him was Stan Mitchell.
"I think this blonde bombshell right here has an addition to that too," he smirked towards the direction of the Australian chick drooling over him. "You have the password to Chloe's room, right?"
Fat Amy frantically searched for a piece of paper on the table where she had written the said password. When she found it, she immediately passed it to Jesse who wrote the additional information on the whiteboard.
"9-4-2-1-4," Jesse read the password aloud then sighed. "We have to unlock something out of this. This has to mean something… or else, it's a dead end street for all of us."
"Kiddo, what do you think about this?" Stan remembered the presence of his sister and so turned to look at her way. However, Beca's mind was lost in space that she offered no response, not even a blank stare or a quick glance. So, Stan decided to throw his then empty cup of yogurt at her to catch her attention. "Beca!"
True enough, the tigress was suddenly awakened. She shifted her eyes from the distant place she was previously staring at to her brother with the right amount of dirty look. Stan knew in an instant that there was something unusual with his sister. Beca Mitchell was never the person to be preoccupied with the unknown.
"So do you have anything to say with this?" Jesse shot her a look.
And the usual blank expression was back on her face as she looked back at him. "Why don't we just kill him? Let's kill Clarence Beale."
"And that would do us what?"
"I don't know," she shrugged. "But that's what the note says. We'll have to kill him first. Maybe it would open us to some kind of another vault or… maybe he stuffed the treasure into his body that we'll have to dig it out of him… I don't know, Jesse. You're the intelligent one here, you tell me."
"Don't be ridiculous, Beca," the guy snorted.
Stan shook his head, "As much fun as that sounds, killing him would only bring us to a real dead end. We've already lost Benji. Clarence Beale is probably the only person left alive who can tell us where the treasure is."
"Then what does the note mean?" Fat Amy asked, finally concentrating on the meeting.
"What if it doesn't mean anything?" Beca muttered.
"It has to mean something!" Jesse exclaimed. "Beale knows we are after the treasure. He knows The Society will do whatever it takes to get it. He put that note for us to see. It was intended for us."
"Okay, but for what kind of intention?" the brunette questioned again. "Yeah, he knows we're after it. Well, this is not some sort of a friendly treasure hunting, Jesse, wherein the clues are intended to show us the right path. Clarence Beale doesn't want us to find the treasure in the first place."
"Beca has a point," the Australian blonde agreed.
Stan squinted his eyes as he contemplated on the theory. "So… are you saying he's creating a diversion?"
Before his sister could give her response, Jesse butted in. "He's not going to do that. Let's not forget what Benji didn't mean to let us know. 'Clarence Beale would wait for us and fight back.' And let's not forget, he used to be one of us after all. No member of The Secret Society is coward enough to run away from the enemy."
Then, the discussion went to a tentative pause. Jesse had made a very strong point that even Beca Mitchell did not dare to contradict it. He's right. You don't expect a former Phoenix, a Council member in fact, to run away just because he was too coward to face the enemy. Benji would never look up to a coward man.
Remembering those last moments of his best friend once again, Jesse frowned at his pair of sneakers then said, "You have a very good point, Beca. I must admit that. But I stand by Benji's side on this one. There is no reason for Clarence Beale to divert us. He increased his security anticipating the worst to happen, for fuck's sake. I do believe Benji died for a reason. He died out of loyalty to his master. And I'm not going to let his death go in vain."
"Guilt," mumbled the brunette, earning a glare from her brother.
Stan nodded towards the other guy and assured, "And we won't."
"Hey," Fat Amy snapped, an idea suddenly popped in her mind after connecting all the information written on the whiteboard. "What if both points are actually correct?"
Her teammates all turned towards her direction.
"What if Jesse's right that this is completely intentional and Beca's right too that this is a diversion… or maybe, a detour to buy him more time to prepare for our attack?" A victorious smirk was then displayed on her face. "What if, for the meantime… there's one more person who can tell us where the treasure is?"
Then everybody turned towards the whiteboard, all eyes landed on the password written on it. 94214. This password truly had to mean something. In a flash, Chloe Beale had invaded Beca's mind again. The latest theory had put the redhead's life into danger and for some reason, this alarmed the youngest Mitchell so much that she found herself feeling all worried for the first time in her life.
Chloe knew it. This Las Vegas trip with Tom and his pathetic friends was totally a bad idea. Really, the first few hours were great. Tom was being nice and sweet the entire flight, he even wrapped his arms around his girlfriend and let her rest her head on his shoulder as they both slept through it. However, arriving at Las Vegas killed the mood. It was a good thing that she had Paul to carry her heavy luggage for her because her boyfriend would never volunteer to do the job. When they got to the penthouse suite, all she did was to change her clothes, and Tom Jacobs was already gone. There was just Chloe and her temporary bodyguard.
Later on, the young heiress quietly sat by a table at Circo patiently waiting for the salmon e caviale pizza she ordered for lunch. Wherever Tom was that time, he was surely having more fun than what his girlfriend was having. Great, she was paying for a grand weekend vacation she wasn't enjoying at all, not to mention Greg's birthday party at a strip club she wasn't even invited to (boys' night out, Tom argued). Her father will be very thrilled if he finds out about all these. Must start getting on Paul's good side so these bad chronicles don't get to reach her father's knowledge.
So with a big grin plastered on her face, she turned to Paul who was seated on the next table and said, "Hey, Paul. If you want anything just-"
But instead of Paul, she found herself eye-to-eye with the one and only Beca Branson. Chloe stopped herself at mid-sentence, her grin slowly turning into a pleasantly surprised expression. She couldn't believe it, Beca was sitting right there. The redhead would have jumped out of her seat and join her bodyguard at the other table, but then, the server came in with the pizza, blocking her view, and her gaze immediately had to follow the path of the pizza. After that several seconds, Chloe excitedly looked back at Beca's way, but to her dismay, she found Paul keeping a watchful eye on her instead. What the hell happened? Where's Beca?
"Miss Beale, are you alright?"
Chloe opened her mouth to say something, but no words could come out of it.
"Miss Beale?"
She swore she saw Beca! But it would probably be a bad thing to tell Paul about that. So instead, she forced a brief sweet smile with a reassuring nod of her head before staring at the pizza on the table. God, was she really that preoccupied with Beca's being that she was starting to see her everywhere? Frankly, she was subconsciously starting to wish the bodyguard was right there with her, and then nothing would be as bad as they seemed to be.
Impatiently, Beca tore off that expensive lingerie Stacie was wearing just for the occasion, just for another night with this cold blooded woman who had swept her off of her feet. Then, the same cold blooded woman pinned her down on her bed, holding her hands into place as she explored Stacie's neck with her lips, sucking and biting into her pulse. The taller brunette couldn't help but moan in pleasure, not caring at all if it would surely leave marks on her neck after this session. She wanted to let people know the moment she steps out of the room afterwards that Beca Mitchell drove her to ecstasy that evening anyway. After all, it was the only consolation she could gain from this dirty little arrangement.
"I want to touch you," she pleaded but as expected, Beca only ignored such request by crashing her mouth into one of her partner's perky breasts, quite her favorite. Then soon enough, her hands replaced them, kneading them into her palms, as she continued to trail ghostly kisses down to Stacie's stomach. She flicked her tongue as she moved further down the body just above that part where Stacie needed her to be.
"You don't have to tease, Beca. I need you so bad already."
But those dilated eyes the woman on top shot back up, those dilated dark blue orbs that says how much she starved for sex also, was enough to turn her on even more. Beca crawled up so her face was just inches away from Stacie's. The one at the bottom felt her heart skip a beat. This never happened before. She was seriously anticipating for her lips to touch hers, finally for the first time ever, but the brunette didn't move any further. Instead, she slipped a finger into her partner's inside causing the other to jerk. She pushed another finger in, curled them expertly, sending sweet sensation all over Stacie's body. She watched her partner firmly shut her eyes closed and her head tilting back along with the sound of her delighted groans.
Feeling her walls tighten around her fingers, Beca pulled them out much to the other's frustration. Well, she wasn't going to let the fun end right there. The shorter brunette caressed her partner's inner thighs while she lowered her body down again, ending the movement by dipping her tongue into her partner's opening. She started off with steamy licks and kisses, but of course, Beca Mitchell knew nothing but aggression, resorting to biting and sucking, hurting and pleasuring all at once.
"Fuck," Stacie whimpered matching the bucking of her hips as she held her partner's head further into place.
However, a thundering knock on the door caused them both to stop. Beca sat up, turning her head towards the sudden interruption.
"I know you two are having sex in there." Stan's muffled voice was heard from the other side of the door. "But I'm heading out now, kiddo. Syndics hunting party tonight. If you want to come, I-I mean... join me, you better get your tongue out of Conrad's cunt now. I'll meet you at the car."
Hurriedly, Stacie pushed herself up to reach Beca, stopping her to make any move. She grabbed her face, pulling them towards her so she could meet those dark blue orbs.
"Stay," she demanded, subsequently planting kisses on the other's shoulder. "Please?"
For some reason, instead of that curly brunette hair, Beca saw that vibrant red locks flowing against her skin. She abruptly held the woman away and looked into her pair of eyes, and to her surprise, she was looking right through Chloe's bright blue ones. She knew she shouldn't be. So, Beca pulled herself from the bed, away from her companion, and started putting on her black jeans.
"I missed you," she heard Stacie's desperate voice, not a certain redhead's usually cheerful one. Frankly, it was somehow a relief for the cold blooded brunette, ignoring whatever the statement implied. And she was back to her normal self, the one who had mastered the art of being indifferent.
"If you can wait for me, I can fuck you later."
"Oh I can wait, Beca." Stacie bitterly smiled at the other woman's phoenix tattoo glaring back at her. "But I'm surely going to miss you over and over while you're away."
The young Mitchell let out an uncaring huff in response as she wore her black leather jacket then shook her wavy hair into place.
"I missed you when you were away, Beca." Stacie's voice was soft and sweet and filled with so much love and sincerity. It would have liquefied anybody's wall. Unfortunately, except this short woman's barriers. But Stacie Conrad would try her luck anyway. "I missed your lips, the trail of kisses you leave all over my body. I missed your touch, the way I melt with the feeling of your skin upon my skin. I missed your mouth, the way you suck into my pulse, my breasts… the way you make my very soul so alive with just a single touch. I missed your teeth, your angry bites. I missed your lingering hands, your fingers dancing inside me… your tongue driving me wild and crazy. I missed the way you would make me feel so wet and hot. I missed that look in your eyes, that look which tells me that you actually need me, too, Beca… even just for a day, just for a night, or even just for as short as five minutes. I never told you this… but I wish every moment I spend with you would last forever."
Without any word, Beca only managed to start walking towards the door.
"I wish you would stay, Beca," Stacie hurriedly stated, giving this one last try. "I wish we would cuddle up every after sex. I wish you would kiss me on the lips, place your hands on my face as you look into my eyes, then tell me you love me."
But Beca simply put a cigarette stick in between her lips then turned the knob open.
"You can wait here in my room if you want," she instructed the still naked Stacie before walking out the door completely.
Stacie slowly nodded her head as tears started to slip off from her eyes. She pulled the blanket to cover her naked body, but still the feeling of being so used and devalued wouldn't wear off. She looked worse than some cheap prostitute. That's what she got from loving some cold blooded monster. That's what she got from stupidly hoping that Beca Mitchell would change. She was well aware about what was happening, but how do you stop yourself from loving a person you're certain you couldn't live without?
Chloe wearily sat at the couch while the personnel at the Chanel store present to her every apparel they had available for her to choose from. It's their last day in Vegas and still, her so-called boyfriend was out there somewhere in the city enjoying every bit of this so-called vacation. And it was totally unfair that Chloe wasn't having any fun at all, not even this shopping spree she'd been caught up to all morning couldn't lift off that apparent frown on her face.
"Found anything you like, Miss Beale?" inquired the lady in attendance to the valued costumer.
The young heiress absentmindedly looked up to the bodyguard standing by her side.
"What do you think, Beca?" she asked.
The room suddenly fell silent. The lady staff eyed the man in a black suit from head to toe as if examining his physical features, making sure he was indeed a man. Paul, on the other hand, could only open his mouth slightly, not knowing how to respond to his superior.
"Pardon, Miss Beale?"
That's when Chloe realized what she just said.
"I-I... uh..." she stuttered. "Sorry, the champagne must be getting into my head."
She briefly lifted her glass along with some small chuckles. Besides from the fact that it was her first glass of the day, the sentence alone didn't make a good point overall. But since she's the daughter, the only child to be exact, of one of the richest man in America, the most rational thing to do for the lady staff and the bodyguard was to join the bandwagon and join her awkward chuckles.
"I'd love to see more of this collection, please?" the redhead finally demanded, diverting all the attention from the previous uncomfortable pause. In a snap, the Chanel personnel swiftly left the room to gather more apparel for the young heiress.
That awkward pause Chloe was trying to dissolve in time was then immediately forgotten, but much to her apprehension, her mind was still invaded by that certain brunette she'd been constantly thinking about since that time they parted ways at the airport. Okay, so at first, she didn't want to admit that part of the truth, but it had been a couple of days without Beca and surprisingly, the feeling of it was becoming too unbearable. So never mind the fact that she wasn't supposed to be looking for another bodyguard when she had the company of Paul, she was going to ask for Beca.
"Hey, Paul?" she turned to the man in black suit once more, hesitation clearly on display. The bodyguard quickly paid his attention to the young woman. "Where did Beca spend the weekend?"
Shocked by the sudden query, the curly-haired guy shrugged his shoulders. "Well… from what I've heard she's going home, Miss."
"Home," Chloe repeated. All of a sudden, she was trying to picture out what kind of home did Beca Branson had. "Does it mean she had to surrender her earpiece for the meantime?"
Paul nodded his head in affirmation.
"Okay," her voice trailed off.
"Something wrong, Miss Beale?"
Chloe chewed on her lower lip, contemplating if she should ask him what she's been dying to ask since they arrived at Las Vegas.
"Do you have… B-Beca's number?"
Again, for the second time, Paul was caught off guard and could only resort to another shrug as an immediate response.
"I don't think she has a cellphone, Miss." Paul shook his head apologetically. "I heard she only requested for the communication device, insisting it's all she needed. Besides, I don't see her ever using one."
No cellphone? Is that even possible in this day and age of technological development? Okay, it's official, Beca Branson was the weirdest person Chloe had ever met in her entire life. Nevertheless, the redheaded heiress nodded her head slowly along with a forced smile on her lips for Paul's sake. Good thing the Chanel people were finally back. She could just hide her disappointment by trying the clothes on.
Give me a reason why I'm feeling so blue
Everytime I close my eyes, all I see is you
Give me a reason why I can't feel my heart
Everytime you leave my side, I just fall apart
Stan Mitchell had his entire body shifted to his side facing his little sister who was quietly seated on the driver seat of the shiny gray-colored Aston Martin Volante parked right outside of a convenient store. His mouth was wide open and his face was distorted in complete confusion and bewilderment. Why on earth was the grouchy and too badass Beca Mitchell listening to this kind of music?
And when you're fast asleep, I wonder where you go
Can you tell me, I wanna know
He knew there was something wrong with her, but he never knew it was this bad. Was she even conscious that Fat Amy's playlist was blasting through the new audio system installed into her car?
Because I miss you and this is all I wanna say
I guess I miss you, beautiful
These three words have said it all
You know I miss you
I think about you when you're gone
I guess I miss you, nothing's wrong
I don't need to carry on
He didn't figure it out, but Beca's thoughts were somewhere far away from where they should be. Maybe it was the song playing in her sub-consciousness that she wasn't even totally aware of in the first place, but she found herself thinking about a particular redhead once again. She wondered what Chloe must have been doing in Las Vegas. She wondered if Tom was treating her right, if he's making her feel happy, if he's drawing a cheerful smile on her face, or if he's being a good boyfriend to her. She wondered if Chloe's thinking of her too or maybe just too pleased that she wasn't there with her. No annoying Beca 'The Bodyguard' Branson trailing behind her all the time.
Give me a reason why I can't concentrate
The world is turning upside down
Spinning round and round
Give me a reason why I now understand
The beauty and simplicity of everything surrounding me
Then, she wondered whether or not Chloe needed saving? Would Timothy or whatever his name is protect her? Could Paul handle the danger all by himself? She was starting to get anxious, the feeling of following them to Las Vegas even though the weekend was almost over was beginning to be an option to Beca. However, she stopped herself from these thoughts when she realized the danger was, in fact, her. Beca Mitchell was the only threat to Chloe Beale's life. And so as long as she stayed away from the ginger, she was just going to be alright. That's the painful truth.
You got a way of spreading magic everywhere
Anywhere I go, I know you're always there
It sounds ridiculous, but when you leave a room
There's a part of me that just wants to follow you too
"The second chorus is about to start!" Stan exclaimed, pushing his sister's body slightly. "Beca!"
"What?"
Because I miss you and this is all I wanna say
I guess I miss you, beautiful-
Realizing the music playing, Beca carelessly threw a punch towards the newly-installed audio system, pulled it off, and disposed it out the window.
"And she's back," the older Mitchell muttered, eyeing his enraged sister.
"What the fuck was that, Stan?"
"I think it's called Cabbage Garden," he innocently replied. "Fat Amy loves that band."
"Why was that crappy song playing in my car?"
"In my defense, you were listening, too," he pointed out.
"No," Beca firmly shook her head.
Stan paused for a moment as the siblings were caught up just staring at one another's eyes trying to figure out what was happening. Beca kept that usual straight face she was familiarly used to display, but then her older brother started laughing. He rolled back on his seat, holding on to his stomach, trying to contain the fit of laughter that just wouldn't stop causing the brunette to grit her teeth as she clenched on the steering wheel.
"Will you stop laughing?" she demanded, but her brother just wouldn't stop. She hated laughter especially when she didn't know what was actually funny. So all she was left to do was to purse her lips together then let out a heavy sigh, wait until the atmosphere could be filled with silence once again.
As Stan finally concluded with his laughter two minutes later, he turned to his sister, a playful grin sitting on his lips.
"Oh my god, you miss her."
"No."
"You do miss her."
"No, I don't," Beca insisted.
Her brother sighed as he leaned back to his seat.
"Come on, it's just the two of us. Brother and sister moment. Admit it, kiddo, you miss her."
"I already told you, Stan. I don't miss that redheaded monster."
The older Mitchell slowly turned his eyes to his sister once again, this time he was beaming victoriously.
"Nobody mentioned about that redheaded monster."
Defeated and annoyed at the same time, Beca let out another long huff, looking blankly straight ahead.
"There's nothing wrong about missing her, you know." Stan shrugged his shoulders. "Well… except from the fact that you shouldn't be."
"I don't miss her. I don't miss anybody. I don't care. I don't give a shit about anything or anyone."
Stan casually nodded his head, "Okay."
Then, there was a minute of silence.
"I'm your brother," he courageously penetrated the wall of tranquility between him and his sister all of a sudden. "I don't want you to ever forget that, kiddo."
Beca turned to look at him, but no word slipped out from her mouth. She simply looked back into his pair of eyes.
"I know how much you believe in the principles of The Secret Society," Stan continued. "You grew up to Phil's teachings and it doesn't surprise me at all when you turned out to be this kind of a… ruthless beast. Everybody's afraid of you, Beca. You'll kill anybody whenever you deem it necessary. Sometimes, even I, myself, tend to forget that you're still a human being."
"Get to the point, Stan."
Stan took a deep breath and smiled at her.
"More than a Phoenix, I am your brother, Beca. I trust you would do the right thing. But no matter how the tide turns, you should know that you will always have me on your side of the game."
Beca briefly nodded her head at her brother before returning her gaze to the entrance of the convenient store.
"Then we're both at the side of The Secret Seciety," she concluded. "Fidelity to The Society, right?"
"Right," he muttered.
After some time, they finally spotted their target. A redheaded woman, holding on to a dark-colored suitcase walked out of the convenient store. As expected, she stood there cautiously waiting for the guy she was supposed to meet up with.
"Change of plan," Beca declared. "I'm going in, you'll drive."
"Sure."
With that, they both got off the car. While Stan circled around the convertible towards the driver's seat, Beca nonchalantly walked towards the redheaded woman. As she went closer and closer to her, she noticed that the woman had the same shade of red locks that Chloe Beale had. Coincidentally as well, the woman almost had the same shade of blue in her eyes. The height and built were closely similar, too. Beca was glad she was still making her way towards the target. She wasn't stopping at all. In fact, she was acting like her usual self.
"Donna Jenkins?"
"Yes?"
"Thanks for the cash."
Without hesitation, Beca pulled out her pocket knife and plunged it into the redheaded woman's stomach. In shocked by the sudden turn of events, Donna Jenkins held on Beca's arms as she entered the dying stage. The brunette kept the knife in place as she looked directly into those light blue eyes. For a moment, Chloe's face flashed before her, and so more than ever, she required herself to feel nothing. She twisted the knife in her body before pulling it out of the flesh along with the suitcase from the loosed grip then moved backwards approaching the gray Aston Martin Volante waiting for her. But as she did, she kept her gaze at the dying person in front of her, that woman who looked almost exactly like Chloe. So that's how it should feel like to kill Chloe Beale? Supposedly, it should feel nothing. Just in case she had to do it in the future, killing Donna Jenkins was indeed a good practice.
"I don't trust her, sir."
Luke stood straight as he answered his boss' question. His face was never been this serious and self-assured at the same time.
"And why is that?" asked Clarence Beale.
"I find everything about her suspicious, sir. I am not convinced by the profile we found."
"But she's doing her bodyguard job very well, Luke."
And that last statement made the blonde head of security shut his mouth.
"Okay," the big boss sighed. "I am not dismissing your idea, but next time you report back, you better find some rational evidence that could prove your theory. Until then, Beca Branson will be reporting for duty."
"Yes, sir."
Clarence flicked his hands signaling the man in a black suit to leave, but Luke remained in his original position.
"Sir, are you sure we are still sticking to the plan?"
"What do you mean?"
"You have a battalion of security, sir. I don't understand why you would keep a secret to yourself. You are at liberty to make use of us at your own convenience."
Clarence let out a small chuckle.
"The thing about secrets, Luke, is that the fewer people involved the easier to keep such secrets. Just stick to the plan… guard your assigned posts… keep your eyes wide open… and Phil Mitchell shall fail."
Suddenly, the door to the home office was opened revealing Beca Branson fresh from her weekend off being escorted by two other guards. Luke threw a dirty look at her, but the brunette simply stared at his face as she made her way to the big boss. She stopped right next to where the head of security was standing, only the main office desk positioned between her and the seated Clarence Beale.
"Leave her with me," he instructed and so the rest of the security group had no other choice but to obey the order, leaving Beca behind in the home office.
"Don't put too much sharpness in your eyes, Beca. You're supposed to be inferior to him." Fat Amy coached.
"Chloe said you're serious about your job," the man started. "I must say I am very impressed. You are doing an excellent job protecting my daughter, Branson."
"Congratulations."
Beca could only nod her head.
"After we pick her up from the airport, you're back to full-time bodyguard. I hope you're ready."
"I am, sir."
Clarence briefly tore their eye contact, contemplating if he should proceed with what he was planning to tell the brunette.
"There are people, dangerous people, who would try everything to get me. I don't care if they do ever reach me. I am just scared for my daughter. She's caught up in this mess because of me. So, Branson, I just really need you to protect her. We can have a little agreement: protect Chloe until all of this is over and I shall reward you with anything you want."
"Can't he just hand the treasure over now?"
"What if I fail, sir?"
Fat Amy didn't know, but Beca needed to know the answer. She needed to know the consequence of not being able to protect Chloe. To her surprise, Clarence Beale only put a smile on display.
"Don't worry because there would still be me. When everything else fails, I'll be there to protect my daughter. They'll have to kill me first before they get to Chloe."
And just like that, Beca wished she never asked. Beca wished Clarence Beale didn't answer… because then, she heard Fat Amy's excited voice.
"Jackpot. It's Chloe."
Song Title: I Miss You - Darren Hayes
And I don't mean to offend Savage Garden fans or anybody :) By the way, just in case you're wondering, the phoenix tattoo is different from the emblem. It's much much cooler!
Disclaimer: I don't own Pitch Perfect.
