A/N: No, it's not the end of the world! I wanted to post this before I go for a short vacay.
Yay! New chapter upload! Whew! I rushed this one a bit especially on the last paragraph, so my apologies if this is rather short, fast-paced and a bit off (methinks). I was typing furiously before I board the plane. I might not have a proper internet connectivity on where I am heading so might as well post it before I forgot all these scenes that keep on tormenting my head. LOL. So, pardon my grammar mistakes and the title. I could not think of anything good.
Chapter 21- The Corporate Knight
Haruka woke up with a raging fever. The pounding headache made her head seemed ready to explode with swelling. Muttering a curse that would have horrified her mother had she been alive, she tried to sit up, but gasped instead, her vision spinning slowly, before lowering her body again on the lumpy bed.
She wanted to curl her body into a fetal position and sleep for the week. But she knew she wouldn't get any better without sustenance. She could order some soup, but the hotel staff might insist she see a doctor, and the possibility they might discover she was still underage until 6 more days will gnaw at her. Six more days before she's technically free of most legalities that will bind her freedom. She can wait a few days more.
Her clothes were drenched with sweat. And she felt sticky and hot even after taking a bath before falling asleep in bed.
She should not have gone to sleep while her hair was wet. But it's too late for regrets now.
Forcing herself again, she managed to sit up, and walked like a drunken zombie to the bathroom, where she grabbed the water glass and drank thirstily after washing her face in the sink. The water felt freezing cold against her burning skin. She headed back to the bedroom where she pulled some fresh clothes from her backpack; wincing a bit each time she pulled the clothes closer to her skin. Now that fever is coursing through her veins, she could feel every bruise and love bites on her body intensify with every movement. Ren had thoroughly marked every inch of her.
Trying to get her bearings and gathering her thoughts, she remembered vaguely that she passed by a convenience store a few hundred meters away from the hotel. She slowly made her way out of the building, trying to look normal as possible, though walking painfully slow. Thankfully, she never encountered any questioning glances, not while wearing her wig and contacts, although her eyes feel watery.
She pretended she was just a tourist backpacker, trying to drink in the sights with her slow movements, but the neon lights blinking in front of her at every corner are burning through her skull painfully, adding to her headache. She did not realized she had slept for so long. It was already dark, and the city is still bustling with its usual traffic noise. They seemed to be magnified a hundred fold, now that her headache is doing its dull pounding on her ears.
She pushed open the glass door and entered the brightly lit shop, grabbed a basket and circled around the tiny store, the hairs from the back of her neck rising and goosebumps forming on her upper arms. By the time she was queuing inside the convenience store, basket full of instant cup noodles, tissues, some cold compress and some flu tablets, she was already shivering from the efficient airconditioning. She ignored the concerned look thrown in by the young man minding the counter, checking her every now and then as he placed each items inside the paper bag. She wanted to scream at him to hurry up, but kept her mouth shut instead. Her bright eyes are a dead giveaway, but she stubbornly refused to be swayed by the fever. Struggling to carry the loaded bags, she wobbled and sway dangerously as she walked back towards the hotel, even slower than before.
Just a few steps more. She kept reminding herself, lifting each foot that seemed to be weighed down by heavy chains.
But with each step she took, her eyes burned painfully, and her head kept its throbbing rhythm. She closed her eyes, momentarily getting respite from her blurring vision. God, how she hated the neon lights flashing in front of her. As soon as her eyelids fluttered shut, darkness was the last thing she remembered.
oOoOoOoOo
Anri de Montfort carefully applied red lipstick on her mouth, enjoying the permeating silence reigning in her rented townhouse, when the sound of clattering delicate china interrupted her.
She rolled her eyes, and stared critically at her magnified mirror, noting the red smudge at the corner of her mouth. Turning behind her seat, she glared at the maid who was nervously serving her later morning tea.
"You had better not break anything on my favorite china, Hariette, or there will be hell to pay!" she hissed.
"I'm sorry Madame" the maid said, tucking stray wisps of straw colored hair behind her ear, before placing the trays of light cucumber sandwiches and tea cakes beside the pot of piping hot tea. As soon as she had finished her task, she scurried out of the room lest her mistress gets too annoyed with her. The last time her mistress was angry, she almost got hit by a bottle of expensive perfume.
Anri turned back to face her vanity mirror, scrutinized her impeccable make-up before sighing, lightly brushing her long, curly dark hair with her fingers. She needed to book an appointment with her hairstylist, Pierre, by the end of the week. The annual fundraising gala of her late husband's company is coming up soon, and she needed to look her best in front of her investors.
Her gaze focused on the small photograph resting at the edge of her vanity table, and she felt the familiar stab of longing and lost.
Henry de Montfort was only in his 70s when he died five years ago of cardiac arrest. She had met him a couple of years after leaving Japan for good, heart broken, and her career in shambles.
Contrary to what she had told Ren years before, when she was just teaching him on the basics of lovemaking, the rewards that Takumi Jinguuji had promised her in return for her services was not fulfilled.
She can still remember the coldness behind the man's eyes when she was escorted back into his office. She had left Ren behind in his car, the last night they were together, after the formidable zaibatsu head's bodyguards woke her up and implied that she is being summoned.
"You have deviated from the terms of my condition, Anri." Takumi's silver-shot dark hair glinted against the soft overhead lights of his pristine black and chrome power office.
Anri lowered her eyes shamefully, regretfully, remembering the words and vows of love uttered by the handsome Ren Jinguuji. She pitied the man he would one day become, the burden of being the heir of this cold man standing in front of her. Ren may be a spoiled, young teenage brat who was used to getting his way. But underneath his spoiled attitude is a confused boy who is still looking for the courage to be able to stand on his feet. She recognized the fire in his eyes on those rare occasions that he talks about his ambition to create music. She used to have the same passion when she was young and uncorrupted by her side job as a dominatrix. She wanted to be a simple homemaker, find the right man, get married and have babies. Instead, she was forced to make easy money for her family.
She wanted to be with him, nurture him, and love him as he loved her. He was the only person in the world who never treats her as a whore, despite their strange arrangement.
"There is no way my son would have you in his terms." Takumi vowed as he turned to face her, eyes flashing with anger, his sharp, handsome, so much like his own son. "I have a lot of plans for him and it doesn't include you."
She knew that. She was nothing compared to Ren Jinguuji. But she could give it a try to convince the old man other wise.
"I may not be a respectable woman in the eyes of other people, but what I feel for your son is not a lie."
"Anri, my dear. You are 24, my son is 15. The glaring gap in your age is obvious. He is a Jinguuji, you are a whore. I would never allow a scandal to taint our family name. For a mature woman like you, you should know by now that fairytales don't exist. My son is not your ticket to a happily ever after life you are hoping for" his eyes narrowed with scorn. "besides, he would soon get tired of you eventually. Women like you are replaceable in the end."
She did not fight back at his words. It was true anyway. It hurt, knowing she was powerless against the man. However, she was not prepared to back down yet.
After the meeting with Takumi, she was sent back home to her apartment, where she stayed for a couple of days, plotting and scheming. She would risk her career for Ren, convince him to run away with her. She is prepared to finance his dream of becoming a musician; she has enough money stored in her Swiss bank account to live a comfortable lifestyle for the next couple of years anyway. They could both figure something out eventually. The most important thing is to be together.
When she emerged from her home, she arranged a secret meeting with Ren after school has ended for the day. But the message she has conveyed never arrived. Instead, it was his father's bodyguards who showed up on the rendezvous point. How they learned, she never had the chance to find out. She was escorted away from the place, put on a plane to take her in Italy, where she was given a new passport and a cool message from the Jinguuji head that "if you ever stepped foot in Japan again with the intention of seeing my son, I will have you sent in jail."
Not only was she threatened, but her moonlighting activities were exposed to her family as well. Her ailing father, who was the real reason why she took up a job prostituting herself to pay for his hospital bills, received several damaging photos and videos of herself in compromising situations. He could not accept the kind of work his own daughter took to finance his healthcare and jumped to his death. Her sister cut off all her ties with her, when her clientele was exposed to the media, some of them holding a position in the government. She should have been thankful her mother was already dead. Had she been alive, she would have committed suicide too.
Unable to visit her dead father, scorned by her only sister, she wandered around Italy, contemplating suicide. It was a painful price to pay for daring to be with the one she loves. And it left a bitter after taste that she is powerless to stop it.
One day, she was sitting in the Gardens of Sallust near Via Salaria, where she was staring at the plaque marking the discovery of the sculpture called Dying Gau, an appropriate place for what she have in mind, actually; she took out a small penknife and placed it near her left wrist. There was no one about, now that twilight is falling. The temperature had dropped to a freezing point. It would be hours before they would discover her body, and she has plenty of time to let her wrists bleed.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." A deep, gruff voice said.
She looked up, eyes squinting on the dark figure standing in front of her, his back covering the dim lamp post, shadows preventing her to completely see his face, except for the angles of his face where the light hit. Her eyes narrowed. Annoying old man who shouldn't poke his nose into other people's business. His accent seemed different. His English impeccable and educated, like the diplomats who work in different embassies. She recognized his familiar tone, somewhat transporting her back in her former life, where she was at the prime of her career as a dominatrix. Her clients range from diplomats, part time actors and local politicians.
"Go away." she rasped, her throat hurting from the hard liquor she had just drunk to dull her senses. Continuing to ignore him, she felt sharp pain, as her right hand slices through her veins, and warm blood gush forth from the broken skin.
"Whatever it is you are suffering from, it's not worth to take your life and just throw it over the edge." The man said, taking the knife from her hand and throwing it away. He took something out of his pocket and started to wrap a linen handkerchief around her wrist.
She tried to push him away, but she was too drunk. She stumbled a bit and the man caught her easily. He was surprisingly strong for an old man.
Despite the cloth binding her self-inflicted wound, blood continued to pour out, she felt herself getting weaker.
"Come on." he said, hauling her up gently. "Let's get you patched up."
She woke up, feeling like she had just hurled herself on a concrete wall several times till her bones turn jelly. Her body ached all over. When she saw her wrist tied up with a clean bandaged, she wanted to cry.
His name was Henry de Montfort, a businessman who has several stocks in telecommunications, shipping and mining industry. He was a quiet, old man who has no family of his own, except for his only nephew who was currently studying overseas, and several cousins who also share the some of the profits he earns. He was drinking in the same bar where she got drunk, who was concerned and followed her out to the park. After she lost consciousness, he took her to a nearby clinic, told the doctor some lie and brought her home after treatment. She developed a fever through the night and was seriously ill for the next two days.
Ashamed by what she had done, she thanked him for his concern and hospitality. She had been through a lot before, and she would recover again. It would take time, nevertheless, she knew one day, she can get herself out of this mess.
Henry offered a job for her by being his assistant. He was constantly on the road, visiting charities and studying his investments. He has a lot of energy for an old man, and she reminded him of Richard Harris from the movie, Gladiator, where he played the dying emperor, Marcus Aurelius.
Despite his enthusiasm in living his life to the fullest, Henry was forced to finally acknowledge his weakened heart when he collapsed in his office. He was rushed to the hospital, where the doctor had told him to slow down. With no one to take care of him, she had impulsively asked him to marry her. She has been working for him for a good two years, and she knows that only she alone can take care of him. Henry was like a father to her, and she respects him greatly. He was there when she was suffering alone, and this is the only way she could think of to repay the kindness he has shown her.
He agreed to her marriage proposal, and soon after, they celebrated their short ceremony together with a few friends they have invited for the occasion. His nephew wasn't able to make it, citing that he is too busy travelling through Europe. She was a bit annoyed by the excuses his nephew made, but she dismissed it eventually. Here is a new life waiting for her, and even though she may not love Henry as much as she had loved Ren, he deserved her care and attention.
For the next three years, she had enjoyed her married life. Henry treated her very gently, like a porcelain doll. During the course of their life together, they had only consummated their marriage twice. Henry was content to play the devoted and caring husband. In return for this, she assumed the role of taking over most of his business details and his life, ensuring his good health as her top priority. She hired a nutritionist to plan his diet, a trainer to monitor his exercises, and revamped the staff employed in his household, ready for emergencies in case he has a relapse. They took timely vacations, encouraged him to take new hobbies while she honed her business skills with his portfolio. She was content as him, and she for the first time in her life, was smiling genuinely again.
She came home one day to find a young man drinking wine with Henry in his study. The young man was in his early twenties, a year or two younger than her. His soft blonde hair, gleaming set of pearly whites and piercing blue eyes was enough to make most women her age swoon. But she knew the likes of him, based on experience as a dominatrix in Tokyo. Here is an ambitious man who knows what he wants and has no qualms in taking it.
"Hello, Aunt Anri." He gave her a long look, before kissing her on the cheek, the hands holding on to her waist, lingering a second too long.
The nephew, she realized. Louis de Montfort-Beauchamp.
He had come home at last after his long grand tour of Europe, courtesy of his Uncle Henry who dotted on him, the only son of his dead sister. Henry may possessed sharp eyes when it comes to handling his business, or perceiving people, but when it comes to his nephew, he seemed blind to his underlying menace.
She was uncomfortable with his presence, the way his eyes seemed to roam all over her body, the brushing of his skin against hers as he handed her the salt and pepper shakers while they ate a quiet dinner.
Henry has called his nephew home to take care of some of his business. He was concerned that she was handling it all on her own without some time to herself.
"I am doing fine." She could only murmur back, realizing it's too late to make her husband change his mind.
The first few months since Louis came to stay were awkward for her. She avoided him as much as she could, focusing on her work and on Henry, who seemed to be in good spirits now that his nephew is home. She does not want to air the fact that his nephew's presence rattled her nerves; Henry cares about his only family and her.
But she knew, at the back of her mind, there was something off with Louis that she could not out a finger on. His lingering looks are still there, the way his piercing blue eyes seemed to follow her everywhere she goes, but when she tries to do a double take, his attention was already elsewhere. She wanted to think she was just being paranoid. Louis is always formal with her, never invading her personal bubble of space. She supposed it was because his Uncle was always around with her, so she waited until her uneasiness gradually disappears.
It was during one of Henry's overnight stays at the hospital for a complete check up, when Louis finally made a move on her. She had barely said goodnight to Henry on the telephone when she was roughly pushed to lie on her back on top of the desk she used in Henry's private study.
Before she could protest, her lips was smothered with Louis' hot, wet kisses. His hands was already up her skirts, fingering her slit, found her moist, and continued to explore her intimately. His sudden actions would have elicited a kick and slap from her, but instead made her excited for more.
Emboldened, Louis continued his assault on her, pulling her panties aside as he pushed her skirts up to her waist. He was plunging his stiffened member inside her when she finally moaned her pleasure.
How long was it since she had sex? She had been married to Henry for three years now, and prior to that, she was drinking and suicidal for a year.
She could not help but revel in her power to arouse a man like Louis, who proved to be such a demanding and amorous lover. He rode her furiously, bruising her pussy tenderly before she came to ecstasy. When he filled her with his seed, she could only pull him deeper inside of her, savoring his primal need.
"I knew you are too good for Uncle, Auntie Anri." He whispered conspiratorially, pulling her with him, his engorged member still impaling her.
"What do you mean?" she answered, sanity finally returning to her. What have she done?
"You think I don't know about your past, Auntie Anri? You were an excellent dominatrix. What they say about you are true. You drive men wild with your charms." His voice is deep, beautiful with the unmistakable menacing undertones beneath.
She wanted to implore him that he must not tell his Uncle about her past. The knowledge would shock him. But it would be futile to beg. However, there was no need to, for Louis have other plans in his mind.
"No need to worry about Uncle Henry finding out. He would only disinherit me, and I can't have that. I am far too used to this easy lifestyle to be an idiot and burn my means of living. Besides," he murmured against her ear before nibbling it, "having an affair with you without his full knowledge is exciting."
And so, her affair with Louis began. Whenever Henry was too preoccupied with his gardening or having some of his friends come over for a visit, she would find time to sneak a few short hours of sex: inside a broom closet, on top of the master bedroom, the pantry-every nook and corner is an opportunity to do the dirty deed. She would find herself looking forward to touching him, feel the pulse of power under his rippling, toned muscles and the scratch of nails he leave at the small of her back and shoulders.
Louis may not be Ren, but he is an excellent substitute. There was something about him that excites her so. He is an enigma. She can never really know what goes on inside his head, and his attraction to her somewhat borders into obsession. He is often jealous with the men she talks to, be it a member of their household staff or a dear friend of his uncle, and shows his displeasure at her by whispering descriptions of what he would like to do to them if he catches them ogling her. She supposed she should be frightened by it, but strangely it excites her more.
"I do not like it when old man Francis kisses your cheek." He told her one night, referring to his Uncle's octogenarian friend who was visiting for a few days.
She had sneaked into his room, after ensuring her husband had taken his sleeping draught and they had immediately tore their clothes off each other.
Louis twisted her lithe form around, cradling her as his engorged member is buried inside her to the hilt. He wrapped his arms around her chest, before reaching down to play with her clit. She gave a soft moan, thanked the gods for the hundredth time that it was a good thing that she has arranged the household staff to go back to their homes after working during the day. Otherwise, with all the sex going on underneath their noses, they would have been discovered so easily.
She bit her lip, letting her body finish with her rocking orgasms before answering. "Francis is a sweet old man who means nothing to me." She whispered her assurance.
"I suppose" he drawled, tweaking her nipples until they turn pink. "But if I see him looking at you in the wrong way, I can easily slip some drugs into his evening drink."
She shivered a bit, not because of the pleasure she is experiencing, but from the tiny fear he had aroused from her. Most of the time, she can manage Louis, and he often obeys her every request and whim. He sort of acts like her second in command, helping her in her every need. Recently, he had hired Roland to be her personal assistant. She was surprised by his actions on hiring a man to be with her most of the time while she works, but later found out that Roland is gay.
"There is no need to do that!" she gasped as she felt him grew bigger inside her. "I like Francis. He is a good business associate of Henry."
She could feel him nodding against her neck as he bucked under her, matching her pace with his own.
"As long as he behaves" he agrees.
Anri looked up again to when she heard her door open and her personal assistant, Roland, entered carrying a stack of folders for her to read later.
"The task has been done according to your instructions." Roland said, taking out his black organizer, ticking a few items on his list.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Louis stroll inside her bedroom, looking handsome in his Armani jeans and grey silk shirt. He was holding his dark sunglasses on one hand, while he ran a hand through his expertly cut blonde hair, casually ruffling it, before clapping his hand on Roland's shoulder by way of his greeting.
"Excellent work." Louise grinned sardonically before heading to the table where the maid laid out the finger sandwiches and tea and took a finger sandwich, popping it into his mouth.
Roland nodded without batting an eyelid. He was used to Louis' easygoing disposition. Besides, he was being paid to do his tasks, not question them.
"Let me know if we need to cancel your flight to Barcelona." He turned to Anri, barely noticing that she was only wearing her bathrobe, before retreating out of the room, carefully closing the door behind him.
Anri swiveled around to face Louis, when she found him already standing behind her. Looking up at his impressive height always made her neck ache, so she stood up and opened her mouth to speak but he spoke first.
"How is everything going?" he asked in his deep voice. He snaked an arm around her tiny waist. He began to tug at her belt, slipping his hands in and finding her naked inside. He slowly smiled, the flame of desire lighting up his blue eyes.
Her hands automatically reached at his leather belt, unbuckling it with a snap. "Pretty much is going according to plan." She gave him a seductive purr before pulling him closer for a kiss.
oOoOoOoOo
Masato Hirijikawa stared down silently at the sleeping woman in front of him, whose breath is erratic, the face flushed red with high fever. For the nth time, he thanked the gods they found her just in time. August's quick thinking and initiative to put a tail on her since the night of the anniversary gala made it easier for them to track her down. Who knows what might have happened had they not found her?
Barely thirty-six hours had passed since he had first laid eyes on her after weeks of searching, certain events have started to unfold. He had went home after the anniversary gala, quiet and brooding, realizing one important thing, after witnessing the spectacle before him.
Haruka is being thoroughly pursued.
August have been precise in his regular reports ever since they arrived in Japan, he regretted not paying attention to it. He had only begun to study them the morning after the gala. August had only succinctly briefed him of the people who are closely involved with her before they arrived at the celebration venue. Ever since the music video had commenced shooting, she has been in the radar of a few men.
Ren Jinguuji is the first one. Masato is not surprised with this. In fact, he was already expecting Ren Jinguuji to be one of them. He was briefly acquainted with the Jinguuji family when he met the current head in one the world economic meetings held in Kyoto. He was still young then, barely a year has passed after he took the reins of running his late father's company. He had expressed admiration at him, slightly envious at his guts to take over his father's complicated empire. He can sense the barely suppressed irritation at his oldest son when he inquired about his health and family.
Takumi Jinguuji is a shrewd middle-aged man with black hair shot through with silver, gleaming grey eyes, handsome, arrogant face and aristocratic nose. His wife, the celebrated Sakura from the respectable Higuchi clan was with him, along with Ren and his younger brother. He was only about a year older than Ren, who was on his last year at the university. He can see where two brothers got their good looks. Sakura Higuchi's beguiling eyes and Takumi Jinguuji's strong European blood had produced tall, strong and handsome boys. During the weeklong conference, word has it that Ren managed to snag the attention of a European princess who was also attending the meeting. He is living up to the playboy reputation attached on his name. When Masato finally caught a glimpse of him, he knew he won't be able to get along with the him. and he mentally made a note never to do business with the Jinguuji family.
On the other hand, the Shinomiya twins are also a force to reckon with. Extremely talented in several fields, they were the ones who insisted that Haruka be included in the project during its initial planning stage. Both were blessed with classically handsome looks: blonde hair, green eyes, and beautiful faces. The twins inherited their mother's good genes and their father's talent. Aoyama Fujitaka was able to introduce him to one of them, and he immediately sensed the wariness emanating from Satsuki Shinomiya.
He had observed the way each twin tried to woo the girl during the party. He has no problems differentiating the two men apart: Satsuki, the older twin, is the aggressive of the two; Natsuki, meanwhile, might be restrained on his suppressed approach, but the way he moves radiated intense passion for the girl.
Both twins seemed like good candidates to stump Ren Jinguuji, however, after watching the scenes before him, he realized that Ren might have already won the battle. For as he watched from his vantage point, sparks seemed to fly between Ren and Haruka, as he lay claim on her in the middle of the dance floor.
They might seemed like arguing from they way they exchange words, but every second Haruka spends under Jinguuji's scruitinizing gaze, her eyes seemed to take a more luminous glow, and she seemed to bloom like a flower under the sun.
Haruka is in love with Ren Jinguuji.
He frowned when the thought crossed his mind, feeling the growing anger and jealousy flowing in his veins. He should have anticipated this. Any woman within a fifty feet radius would have been charmed to oblivion. Ren Jinguuji never fails to make all the surrounding women fall for him. Haruka was no exception. And surprisingly, the way Jinguuji was wooing her, he seemed to be marking her as his- totally unlike the behaviour he had displayed years ago.
Unable to watch any longer, the apprehension suddenly growing inside of him, he left the party without a word, signaling August to make the proper goodbyes for him.
He called for his driver, who immediately pulled up in the grand portico of the hotel and took him home back at his private penthouse, a few distance away from the city. There, he spends a few hours pacing around his bedroom, contemplating on his next move. His eyes kept straying back on the battered journal he keeps on top of his bedside table, unable to crack it open. The worn out pages smelled a bit like her when he caught a whiff of her scent as he surreptitiously passed by her as she wandered in the crowd: lavender, vanilla and cream.
The complication of Haruka in love with Jinguuji would make it harder for him to convince her to consider his proposition at least. He began working out what type of convincing he would do when he slip between the bedsheets. When he finally fell asleep, it was with determination that he would have her at all cost. What he intends to do, he has no idea yet, but he is willing to spend some time to plan his strategy like a general planning for a battle.
He woke up the next morning, still brooding as he settled for breakfast, when August interrupted his concentration. One of the detectives tipped them off when he reported a suspiciously dressed Haruka leaving the building's premises with a telltale bulging backpack, trying to look inconspicuous. With August's strict instruction to follow her, the detective dogged her footsteps as casually as he could and the girl never realized she was being followed. As soon as she checked into the hotel where she is currently staying during the next hours, he immediately contacted them.
For the next few hours, it was reported that she did not leave her room, and when she finally emerged, it was obvious from a distance that something was immediately wrong: her hunched up frame, the uneven walking, the constant massaging of her nape and neck. When she passed out on the street amidst the crowd of people, the detective immediately scooped her up and called a cab, before finally informing his employer of the situation. Her temperature was so high that the detective considered heading to the emergency bay of the nearest hospital. However, August immediately arranged for him to head to a private clinic, where a doctor and a nurse would be waiting for them.
Masato sat down on the chair provided for him, beside the bed. He was in the middle of a meeting with his other business associates when August called and informed him of what had transpired. He could barely concentrate the whole day as he got hourly reports. By five o clock in the afternoon, he cancelled his other appointments and headed straight back to his penthouse and waited impatiently, downing one glass of brandy after another. Alcohol has little effect on his mind and body, though it only made him feel hot. Loosening his tie, he kept pacing around his private study, snapping at his other secretaries who kept bringing in reports for him to read.
When they finally received the final call from the detective, August had immediately gone into action. He could not help but frown slightly. His right hand man would retrieve Haruka's belongings from the hotel himself. August would make sure the entire room would be swiped clean, the hotel staff bribed to forget about ever seeing a young woman checked in, the ledger books would have been amended, and the memory from the security cameras altered. In short, whatever tracks Haruka made, up to the point where they retrieved her would be erased. From the moment she stepped out of her apartment threshold, Haruka has now officially vanished.
The doctor, who had examined her, pronounced that she needs a few days to recover. She was thoroughly exhausted; the lack of sleep and fatigue had taken a toll on her body, rendering her susceptible to flu. She was a fairly healthy woman, and there would be no after effects of the flu virus.
Breathing a sigh of relief, he dismissed the doctor. He had watched her in the shadows as she danced with Ren Jinguuji, looking exquisitely delectable in the peacock dress that accentuated her small frame. His eyes devoured the entire scene as she exchange words with Jinguuji, with sparks in her eyes, the flush in her skin, the fire apparent in her voice. It was hard to imagine the same strong-willed young woman is lying still in front of him.
He held her thin hand, fragile bones making her fingers look even slender. He could feel the faint calluses in them, as he gently massaged them, hating the coldness of her skin. Were it not for the slow rising and falling of her chest, one can assume she was dead. Her face was so pale against the sheets. It was a good thing that her hair was still a vibrant shade of red-gold, he thought to himself, smoothing the silky strands lying at the edge of the pillow.
August theorized that she ran away. Judging from the amount of clothes she had packed, including the bundles of cash hidden in several of her pockets, the wig and contact lenses, something must have happened to induce her to run away. By the things were going last night when he watched her and Jinguuji leave; they would be staying in one place together. And he already assumed what would happen next. He is not an idiot. So why leave him then? What in the world happened?
The reason behind the unexpected turn of events is still a mystery. They may have to wait until she is strong enough to answer their questions.
He stood up from the chair he was sitting on, moved closer to her, smoothing out her forehead as she continued to sleep. Whatever the reason, for the moment, he did not care. He kissed the palm of her right hand, hating the smell of hospital antiseptic, overpowering her natural, feminine scent.
I have you now..
oOoOoOoOo
A/N: The usual big thank yous:
Monochrome Blade: Darling, here are some tissues for you. (throws a couple of packs). If it helps, I wasn't able to think for two days straight when I was reviewing my outlines, but the separation is a necessary thing. Sorry. But I do hope you like the early posting of this chapter.
Maybelle7: thank you for your opinion. I will keep that in mind. Are you a fan of this pairing? Hehehe, just curious.
Fario: Sweetheart, my mistake. I should have written questions, not poll. Very sorry for the confusion. The questions are posted at the very last of my author's notes of Chapter 20. So, what do you think? Send me your opinion about it after you check it out. Thanks!
Uchicha Lolita: I'm happy you like this! I hope you check out my other works.
PanUchica7105: That's alright my dear. Thanks for reviewing, at least. Feel free to write anything you want on the review space.
Saramiko: Yes, some people do find it creepy if someone stalks you. However, I tried not to make Masato that creepy. I mean who wouldn't want a guy who is soooo into you? LOL. I think Masato is just in the middle of struggling on what he feels for Haruka and has yet to acknowledge it. Thanks for expressing your thoughts. I will take a note of it.
Zealous Soul: Honey, Ren is acting normally for a guy. Believe me (shakes head), there really are SOME guys who act like him.
Unforgettable Rose: Oh, my dear Rose! You can always bother me with your review alerts anytime! I mean, who doesn't want charming reviews from nice readers like you? Keep them coming!
Leave your comments on the reviews section. Chapter 22 is next. Watch out for it!