Two years ago
Body curled, Satele's knees almost touch her head, like a fetus inside a womb. Course palms covered her face, shoulders trembling in the darkness. She was hurting all over, especially her lower parts, legs numb while all strength was scraped from her limbs.
A reminder of what just transpired.
She was disgusted. Disgusted to the bones, finding she was not disgusted to what the man had done to her. She hated him, hated him for making her feel that way. She couldn't accept the loss. Feeling like she had lost something so precious, and no matter what she did, she could no longer take it back.
Her shoulders shook when silent sobs rocked her body, pushing against the lump in her throat.
But the guy beside her didn't notice the barely audible sound of her misery and loss, snarling as he said, "Can you fucking let me rest? I'm trying to sleep here."
Satele bit her lip and didn't move. But the shaking of her shoulders wouldn't stop, and this irritated the man beside her.
"Can you stop your shaking already? The bed felt like a vibrato for fucking sake!"
The veins on her forehead bulge as she snapped, "Easy for you to say! You didn't lose something important to you!"
Feeling the oppressive aura behind her, turning dangerous by the second, she curled even more. She wanted to shrink under his eyes that were burning her back.
". . ."
". . ."
She heard him sigh after a long pause, probably to keep his irritation at bay. She didn't know why a tear escaped from her eyes. She wiped it and sniffled. Her breath hitched when she suddenly felt hot air fanning her face. Peeking from her palms, her eyes widened when dark onyxes caught her gaze. Her body flared, and her face hid in the comfort of her hands.
"If it stops your shaking, think of it this way," Asher said, voice laced in irritation. "You give your virginity to your boyfriend, and then you break up after months, and all you get in turn is 'thank you, babe.' Or gift it to your husband and in return you get 'thank you, hon. I'm so touch you remained pure.' And after a year you got divorce with 'thank you, and I'm sorry it's not you it's me' bullshit. I think auctioning your virginity was a practical idea. Think about it. You got something in return instead of a hollow 'I'm sorry and thank you' shit. Twenty million is no small amount."
Satele scoffed. The lump in her throat was dissolving, and she could breathe a little better. Tilting her head, she met his gaze. She pouted and glared. "It's just ten. Half goes to the establishment."
He rolled his eyes, and she wanted to knock her head when she found the gesture cute.
"Twenty million. Ten million. Big deal! The important thing is, you can change your life with that amount of money. And besides, do you think men nowadays care about whether you're a virgin or not? If they want to marry you, they'll marry you. Period. No questions ask."
She snorted, pretending she was still bitter.
Thinking about the money, the tightness of her head lessened. She could add years to her mother's life. They could finally move out from that crampy rented apartment where it stinks of human sweat. She could finally buy a home! Their very own house in a conducive environment. She could have her brother enrolled in one of the best schools.
At the thought, her eyes softened, and a genuine smile spread across her face. All of her worries and grievances magically disappeared. And she thought. . . she thought. . . this man was right. He was not entirely annoying.
"Now sleep," he said, slumping on the bed. "It's understandable that you're not tired since I was the one who did most of the work while you laid there like a dead fish out of water."
Before she could rebuke him, his bare arms wrapped around her, cocooning her in his embrace.
"What are you doing? Let go of me. You're heavy," she whined. Her skin tingled with electricity, crawling all over her body. Her spine flinched, toes curling when he inhaled her scent.
"Stop struggling and sleep, or I'll kick you out of bed."
". . ." She bit her lips and silently cursed him in her mind. Nope, this man is definitely annoying as hell.
Cursing loudly in her head, her body relaxed. Her muscles released all tension while an odd feeling of comfort and warmth made her eyelids dropped little by little. Not before long, she was in a deep sleep, one which remained elusive ever since she and Aldrick broke up.
Agh. . . This man . . . is really . . . anno . . . ying . . .
- - - -
Present Time
FROZEN private meeting room
A man in his twenties was sitting comfortably on a leather chair, wearing the finest mulberry silk shirt under a one of a kind color of vicuna wool coat paired with the most exquisite handmade fitted linen pants and black leather shoes. His legs crossed, fingers intertwined over his knee, emanating elegance and confidence while his beautiful self was adorned with the finest gold. Precious of stones graced his hands, and only the most expensive watch handcrafted by master artisans had the honor of embracing his wrist.
Nothing less from the firstborn son of billionaire Mr. Devondale, the richest man in the south known for its abundant natural resources. The one who controlled both business and government in the dark.
Robert Krisnov repressed the urge to ask about the man's watch. This was not the right time to think about material things. He was here to do business, and heaven only knew how much he waited for this day to come. To finally expand Frozen in the southeast. If he could land a deal with this man, Frozen would be unstoppable. The man is the key to operate in the whole south.
He tried so many times in the past to meet the elusive family and ask for the venture. But every time, they refused.
But now, his luck was about to change.
He cleared his throat, lowering his voice a few octaves, making sure it sounded from a man of influence and power. His shoulder square, chin lifted, contending with the sophistication the man had since birth. Though he couldn't entirely surpass it, he had his confidence and tenacity, a pride he accumulated throughout the years of doing business.
"Mr. Calvin Devondale, a pleasure to finally meet your acquaintance. Let's enjoy a bottle of Romani Conti while we speak business, shall we?"
Calvin smiled, one that didn't reach his eyes as he received the cup his assistant handed to him.
"Mr. Krisnov, I like your straightforwardness. So I too will get straight to the point." Calvin gently blew and smelled the aromatic tea before he took a quick sip. "I know you wanted to expand your business in the southeast. But of course, to do that, every proposal must go through us first, the family who governed the south."
Robert pushed the uncomfortable feeling away every time he stared at Calvin's amber eyes. The kid was nothing but friendly. A gentleness was enveloping his entire countenance, which was a contrast against his sharp features. But that was precisely the reason which kept him on the edge of his chair. He didn't believe it in their line of work. People like them didn't care about one another. It would always come down to self-interest. It was always about 'what is it' for them.
"And I'm assuming you're here because I finally have your family's permission to expand Frozen in the south, am I right?" Robert didn't know why the Devondale didn't approve of it in the past. If Frozen expands in the south, they would greatly benefit from it. Calvin Devondale acquired ten percent of Frozen's shares, after all. Besides that, there was the addition percentage if Frozen was built in their territory.
Calvin didn't have anything on his face except a friendly smile, yet the only feeling Robert got was the sense of demeaned, which made his brows twitched though his face remained business-like. Then his forehead creased when Calvin softly laughed.
"Rejoice, Mr. Krisnov! Our family has indeed granted the expansion." Calvin grinned, showing those perfect rows of teeth before his face turned serious, eyes glimmered with desire. "But, of course, as you know, it comes with a price."
Robert inwardly sneered. He popped his collar and mused to himself. Did this boy think I would cower before him with just a little fit of intimidation? He had won deals after deals against Kings and Queens all around the globe and expanded his business. He had rattled and played mind games with influential men. He had gambled and crossed arms with business moguls and politicians far and wide. All in the name of expanding his empire. Frozen wouldn't be sitting as one of the top international brands if it wasn't for him.
And no snotty brat, who called himself a billionaire because he came from the lineage of a powerful family, could make him lose his game.
"Of course, I believe twenty percent profit from Frozen's sales in the southeast is enough as collateral for this agreement?" He knew men and knew them well. All minds were alike. If not money, then power. If not power, rare antique collectible things. If not that, then women. Thus, he wasn't entirely surprised when Calvin laughed while a ridiculing sneer so silently graced his lips.
"Mr. Krisnov, do you think I lack money?"
Robert didn't fret nor show any emotion. He was confident he could close this deal. He didn't mind playing mind games for a while with the little boy.
"If not money, I don't think I have anything that could interest you."
. . .
. . .
Calvin leisurely leaned back. His smooth tongue wet his lips. The friendly aura he portrayed disappeared, replaced by a lazy and dominant air.
"Oh. . . You do have one. . . and I'm very interested in acquiring it indeed."
. . .
. . .
Gradually, Robert's calm and aloof facade cracked. Veins pounded against the skin of his forehead when he realized the meaning of what Calvin said. And the soft leather of the arms rest was bursting from the grip of his hands when Calvin added.
"Evangeline Krisnov . . . Though you disowned her, she's still your daughter. Flesh and blood. If she married into my family, consider Frozen's expansion a done deal," Calvin said, voice enticing while the desire in his eyes burned even more, no longer hiding his hearts yearning. "And my family will even help you expand to other countries. Free of charge. I think this is a deal you can't miss."
". . ."
Calvin lazily propped his chin against the back of his hand, elbow resting on the armrest. A playful smile played on his lips, and his slanting eyes spoke meaning.
"You don't have to worry about her. I'll take very good care of her. Think about it. You get to expand your business in the south while I take care of your daughter. What's more, you'll have a Devondale as a son in law." Calvin softly laughed, thick with confidence. "You won't find a better deal than this."
". . ."
". . ."
"Get out."
Calvin blinked before he dryly laughed without humor. "Excuse me?"
Robert slowly stood from his chair, his whole face red in constrained anger. He glanced at his secretary, Fredrick, and enunciated each word. "Escort Mr. Devondale out."
At the side, Fredrick, who was busy typing the minutes of the meeting, abruptly stopped. For a moment, he didn't register what was happening until Robert shot him a piercing glare. He scrambled to his feet and sauntered to Calvin.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Devondale. If you'll follow me," Fredrick said, voice respectful.
Calvin was in a state of utter shock. Eyes wide, lips parting in disbelief that Robert Krisnov was shooing him away. He, who was raised in an environment where everyone showed him nothing but respect, was being disrespected by a puny businessman?
Eyes narrowing, the smile on his face faded. He brushed away the assistant and stood from his chair. He had been planning for years to make Evangeline his. And he thought he got his chance when she was disowned. Thinking her father abandoned her, and thus Robert Krisnov would gleefully give her to him in exchange for his desires. A perfect excuse that it was her father who pushed her to him, saving him his pride for he didn't want to tarnish his reputation of bowing his head to have a woman's affection.
Sleek and confident, he fixed his lapel before shooting one last glare towards the old man.
"You'll regret this."
Was all he said before he turned and left the room, followed by his entourage and Fredrick.
The moment the solid wooden door closed, Robert cough and cough. Grabbing the handkerchief inside his pocket, he pressed it against his lips and controlled his breathing to stabilize his condition. The surging anger did damage to his health, and it took longer this time to regain his breath.
Panting in exhaustion and the weakening of his limbs, he sat on the couch, almost falling. He closed his eyes and took in a mouthful of air before his eyes drifted to the piece of fabric in his hand. The once expensive silk was now painted in red –– blotted dots of crimson splattered across its sleek silk. Mesmerized by the color, he was lost in a trance.
Silence descended for some time, amplifying the gloom in the room before he slumped his tired body against the couch. Closing his eyes tight, brows in one line, forehead wrinkling, he shoved his handkerchief back inside his pocket.
Minutes passed, and he remained stationary. Another minute before he reached for his breast pocket and pulled out a shiny object.
It was a pocket watch made of black emerald. Sleek and elegant with its classic design. He stared at it, mind blank while his thumb brushed the smooth texture. The hardness on his face softened as his mind retold a fond memory.
. . .
. . .
Knock! Knock!
His reverie disrupted when his secretary came inside, announcing.
"Sir, it's time for your meeting with Mr. Loire."
". . ."
"Sir?"
Robert blinked. It was only when he registered what his secretary was talking about. He glanced at his wristwatch and found he was in a dream-like state for an hour!
Still, he wished he continued dreaming. Dreaming of that time where all things were as simple as counting from one to ten.
Sighing, he stood and fixed his wrinkled suit before he sauntered towards his next appointment.
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