Ding!
"It's done." Excitedly, she ran to the oven and pulled out the cake. Then, she spent another few minutes decorating the delicious treat.
Looking at the time, she gathered that she still had several hours before her boyfriend came home. More than enough time to finish her preparation for her surprise.
Since it was their fourth anniversary, she wanted to make a special dinner for him.
Oliver Lambert. The love of her life. The only man who truly made her feel special, except for her father, of course.
"I hope he likes it." Hurriedly, she dashed from one part of the kitchen to the other, trying to make everything perfect.
After putting the flowers and the candle on the table, she knew she had done it, with more than an hour to spare.
"A quick shower would not hurt." Sniffing herself, her nose picked up the aroma of the roast steak that clung to her shirt.
Although Oliver kept saying that he didn't mind how she looked or if she smelled like strawberry or sweat. She still could not help but be conscious. She always wanted to look her best when she was with him.
Why?
Because he's perfect, while she's not.
Back in college, he was the famous quarterback, admired by the girls and envied by the guys. On the other hand, she was just the chubby nerd who easily faded into the background.
Unless the mean girls picked on her or the popular jocks made fun of her, nobody would probably notice her.
Until he did.
Unexpectedly, he showed interest in her. At first, she thought he was just making fun of her. She was a bet that he had made with his friends.
After all, why would a boy like him want a girl like her?
Still, he secretly courted her. Showing up when she needed help. Walking her home. Gifting her with small things. They were small gestures that slowly marked in her heart.
He didn't stop pursuing her even if she kept rejecting his advances. He didn't give up. Eventually, she saw his sincerity. His genuine feelings for her.
Months later, she had fallen for him. Head over heels in love with him. She believed he also felt the same way. Years later, they were still together.
Now, after graduation, here they were. Privately and discreetly living together. Although he still kept her a secret, she didn't care. As long as she could be with him, she didn't mind waiting until he was ready to be with her forever.
"This is it." Maybe this was the night, wearing the dress that he gave her on her birthday just the other month. Then, she grabbed a small, long box with a red bow from the bedside drawer.
It was her gift. Her grand surprise. And she could not wait to give it to him.
"Maybe tonight..." She mumbled at her reflection in the mirror while her hands rested gently on her belly. "He will finally make our relationship official."
Smoothing the dress along her curves, she gave herself one last look before leaving her room, putting the box inside her pocket.
Bang!
Bang!
Bang!
Her ears picked up the loud noise that came from the front door as she was coming down the stairs. It sounded like someone was seriously pissed and about to bust her door wide open.
Hastily, she rushed to the door, wondering if it was Oliver who had forgotten his keys again or a neighbor who needed help.
"Wait! I'm coming." She shouted as another series of rumbling reverberated on the thick wooden surface.
"Oliver... Is that...?" But it was not him.
Instead, a man in an expensive coat stood outside her door. And he was not alone, as four men in black accompanied him.
"Ms. Amelia Clarke?" The man asked with what appeared to be a polite smile.
"Yes?" Confused and anxious, her eyes searched the man's face for answers. But it revealed nothing.
"I'm Taylor Birch." He introduced himself. "My boss, Mr. Morton, wants to speak with you. Will you please walk with me? He's waiting for you in the car."
The man looked behind him. That was when she noticed the luxurious black car that was parked outside her apartment.
"I'm sorry... Mr. Morton?" Her eyes returned to the man before her, unable to process what the man wanted from her.
Mr. Morton? He seemed loaded.
Limited edition car. A professional assistant. Bodyguards.
Who was he? What did he want from her?
"I think you got the wrong person, Mr. Taylor." There was no way that this Mr. Morton was looking for her. She was about to shut the door when a man stopped her.
"There's no mistake, Ms. Clarke." One of the men in black wedged his foot against the frame, preventing her from closing it. "If you don't want any trouble, I suggest that you cooperate." The threat was visibly embedded in his words.
"Please, Mr. Morton just wants to talk." Taylor and his men stepped aside, giving her a clear path to the car, where another man waited to open the door for her.
Given no choice, she sat across from another man in an impeccable suit, with graying hair and a thick, well-kept beard.
"What do you want from me?" She quickly asked, still clueless about what she was doing inside the expensive car.
"You see, Ms. Clarke... my time is valuable. So, I will cut to the chase." The man finally closed the folder he was reading and stared at her.
From the look on his face, she could already tell that this man didn't give a crap about other people. And it sent a chill immediately down her spine.
"Leave my son." His steel eyes bored into her as if he wanted to pierce her soul. "And I will reward you handsomely." His sharp words were worse than if he had slapped her on the face.
"Your son?" Was he talking about her boyfriend?
This man couldn't be related to Oliver.
Oliver was not a Morton.
Oliver was just like her. A football scholar who worked hard to earn a degree in College.
Besides, Oliver never mentioned having a wealthy family. But then again, he had always avoided talking about them.
"Yes, Oliver is my son." The older man responded, confirming her doubts. "I want you to leave him." Ordering her as if their relationship meant nothing.
"Is one million enough?" His offer was like a bullet that put a hole in her heart.
"You know that my son is not really serious about you, right? I think you already know that he deserves someone better..." His eyes visibly scrutinized her from head to toe, finding her unsuitable.
"And he's already engaged to a beautiful, successful heiress from the Smiths' family." His revelations were like adding insult to injury. "Hazel Smith is the perfect match for him. Don't you agree?"
Hazel Smith? The hotel heiress, the famous actress, and America's sweetheart.
Who didn't know that name? Who wouldn't want her to be part of their family?
Unlike her, Hazel was perfect; meanwhile, she was a nobody.
"Okay, I can make it ten million to compensate you for entertaining my son's whims." He continued when she didn't respond. "Do you really think he'll marry you?" Then, the man laughed. A disparaging roaring laughter. "Just look at yourself."
In that instant, realization finally dawned on her.
Oliver was indeed his son.
He lied to her.
Suddenly, she remembered all those moments when she suspected that Oliver was keeping a secret. The times that he tended to change the subject when she wanted to talk about his family.
Because he was never poor.
In truth, he was fucking rich.
He was not only handsome, freakingly hot, talented, intelligent, but he was also wealthy beyond her imagination.
Damn! They truly belonged in two different worlds.
"I'm sorry, but I don't need your money." She spat out, furious with this man and his insult.
But she was more enraged with Oliver for lying to her.
How could he keep her in the dark?
Did he think that she was a gold digger? That she was only after his money.
Clearly, his father thought so as she saw the check that he pushed in her direction.
"I wish I could say it's nice meeting you, but it's not." This was not exactly how she imagined meeting Oliver's father. "I love your son not because of his money. If I'm leaving him, it's not because you want me to."
She grabbed the door handle to open it, but the man stopped her before she could take another move.
"Take my offer, or I'll make you and your family's lives miserable."
A part of her wanted to shout at him. "Fuck off! Fuck your money! Fuck your threats!"
But the other part of her brain, the sensible part, believed that his words were no empty promises.
A man like him could easily turn her world upside down.
Still, could she truly leave Oliver? Granted that he lied to her, she still thought he deserved a chance to explain himself. Maybe he had his reasons.
Besides, she loved him. How could she live without him?
"Here's my number." He pushed a card with his name and number on it into her hand. "Think about it. I'll be expecting an answer before midnight tonight." Mr. Morton said.
"Or you wouldn't like what will happen next." Then, he tapped on the window, and the door gradually opened.
Not a minute too soon, the car sped away, leaving her on the pavement, staring at his card.
MAXIMUS MORTON
CEO of the MORTON GROUP
The name sounded familiar. Then, it clicked.
He was one of the richest men in the world.
Moreover, based on rumors, he was also allegedly the famous Mafia Don.
"Oh... It means Oliver was his heir."
***
In the meantime, inside the car, Mr. Maximus Morton noticed something sticking in the side of the seat where Amelia sat just moments ago.