Dimitri Real Estate
The office was quiet as usual.
The kind of silence that made every step sound like a mistake.
Mrs. Bially Gonzalez stood at the door.
Hands clenched.
Heart pounding.
She knocked once.
"Come in."
The voice was calm.
Cold.
She stepped in.
Mrs. Elena Dimitri sat behind her desk, flipping through documents without even looking up.
"Ma'am… you asked to see me?"
No response.
Pages flipped.
Then
"Close the door."
Click.
Elena finally looked up.
Her eyes scanned Bially slowly.
From head… to toe.
Judging.
Measuring.
Dismissing.
"I heard something interesting today."
A pause.
"Your children…"
She leaned back slightly.
"…are enrolled in Emirates Academy."
Bially froze.
"…Yes, ma'am."
Elena's brows lifted slightly.
Surprised in amusement.
"…Emirates Academy?"
She let out a soft laugh.
"That school isn't for people like you."
Bially swallowed.
"We—we managed, ma'am."
"Managed?"
Elena repeated the word slowly, like it offended her.
She stood up.
Walked around the desk.
Each step… deliberate.
"How exactly do you manage?"
A pause.
"How do you feed them?"
Another step closer.
"How do you pay fees that people ten times your salary struggle with?"
Bially lowered her gaze.
"We made sacrifices…"
Elena scoffed.
"Sacrifices?"
She circled her like a predator.
"No… this isn't sacrifice."
"This is stupidity."
Bially clenched her fists.
But said nothing.
Elena stopped in front of her.
"Let me guess…"
"You emptied your savings."
"Sold something valuable."
"Borrowed money you can't repay."
A pause.
A cruel smile.
"All… for what?"
"To sit your children next to mine?"
Bially's voice trembled.
"They deserve a chance…"
Elena's expression snapped.
"Deserve?"
Her voice sharpened.
"People like you don't deserve anything."
Silence.
Heavy.
Painful.
Elena stepped even closer.
Lowered her voice.
"If you had married someone useful…"
A pause.
"…someone with value…"
She tilted her head.
"…maybe your life wouldn't look like charity."
Bially's breath hitched.
"But no," Elena continued.
"You chose a liability."
"A man who can't even carry his own weight."
"And now look at you."
"Struggling."
"Begging life for mercy."
"Dragging your children into a world they can't survive in."
Bially's eyes watered.
But she didn't cry.
Elena smiled faintly.
Cold.
Satisfied.
"Tell me something…"
A pause.
"When the fees come again…"
"Will you sell your dignity next?"
Silence.
Bially finally looked up.
Pain.
Anger.
Pride.
All mixed together.
But her voice stayed low.
Controlled.
"…We will survive."
Elena laughed softly.
"Survive?"
She walked back to her desk.
Sat down.
"People like you don't survive here."
A pause.
"They endure… until they break."
She waved her hand dismissively.
"You can leave."
Bially stood there for a moment.
Then turned.
And walked out.
Slowly.
But not broken.
Not yet.
Night
Roberts Mansion
Laughter echoed through the night air.
Bright.
Carefree.
Alive.
"Today was damn fun!"
Rihanna laughed, spinning slightly as she walked.
"I never knew spending time with you could be this interesting."
Pacho smiled, hands in his pockets.
"Of course. I'm premium company."
A pause.
"Limited edition."
Rihanna laughed again.
"If it were Maxim…"
She rolled her eyes.
"I'd be home two hours ago listening to him explain how he's 'the definition of a real man.'"
Pacho chuckled.
"Tragic."
He stepped closer.
Gently placed a hand on her waist.
"You know…"
A pause.
"You're really beautiful."
Silence.
Then
Rihanna burst into laughter.
"Wait—no—hold on—"
She pointed at him, laughing harder.
"Where did you learn that from?"
Pacho pouted slightly.
"…I practiced that for almost an hour."
A beat.
"At least respect the effort."
Rihanna tried to control herself.
Failed.
"Okay okay, sorry!"
She wiped a tear of laughter.
"So… what do you want?"
Pacho looked at her.
Serious now.
"…Your lips."
A pause.
Rihanna stepped closer.
Closer.
Their faces inches apart.
Then she stopped.
Right there.
Smiling.
Not kissing him.
"You're becoming a very naughty boy," she whispered.
"Soon you'll be asking me to come to your bed."
Pacho froze.
Turned red instantly.
"What—bed?!"
He panicked.
"No—no—only married people do that!"
Rihanna exploded into laughter again.
"Oh my God you're so innocent ."
A pause.
Then softer
"It makes me like you even more."
Silence fell.
Different this time.
Rihanna stepped closer again.
No laughter.
No teasing.
Just… honesty.
"…I'm tired."
Pacho frowned.
"Of what?"
"…Everything fake."
A pause.
She looked into his eyes.
Steady.
Vulnerable.
"…So I'll ask you something real."
His heart started racing.
"…Will you marry me?"
Silence.
Night 11pm
Outside the City
Mr. Gonzalez walked like a man already broken. His mind clearly suffering from depression.
Each step dragged, like something invisible was pulling him backward, back to his home, his wife and his children…
Back to the life he was slowly crumbling, slowly failing.
Mrs. Dimitri's words wouldn't stop echoing.
"If only you didn't marry a liability…"
"Maybe your children wouldn't suffer like this…"
"Men like him are just rats."
His fists clenched.
But there was no anger left in him.
Only shame.
Only helplessness.
"I'm trying why does no one see my efforts…" he whispered under his breath.
Then he stopped in front of a massive gate.
"This should be it."
He glanced at the address written on the paper.
Richard Constanteen's mansion.
Two armed guards stepped forward instantly.
Guns raised.
Cold.
Professional.
Deadly.
"STOP RIGHT THERE!"
Mr. Gonzalez froze.
Hands instinctively raised.
"I—I'm not here for trouble," he said quickly. "I just need to see"
"WHO SENT YOU?"
The safety clicked off.
LOUD.
DEAFENING.
Another guard stepped closer, pressing the barrel of his gun directly against Gonzalez's forehead.
"You picked the wrong place to spy, old man."
"I'm not a spy!" Gonzalez's voice cracked.
"I swear I just need to see Richard!"
"Say his name again," the guard said slowly, "…and I'll blow your brains out right here."
Gonzalez's breathing became uneven.
Fast.
Shallow.
His legs almost gave out beneath him.
"I—I know him…" he stammered. "We went to school together… I'm his friend…"
The guards laughed.
Cold.
Mocking.
"Friend?" one of them scoffed. "Do you know how many 'friends' try to walk in here before they die?"
The gun pressed harder into his head.
"Last chance," the guard whispered. "Who sent you?"
Gonzalez closed his eyes.
For a second
He saw his children.
Maria smiling.
Marco laughing.
Misheal arguing.
His wife… tired, but trying.
"…No one sent me," he said quietly. "I came here myself."
Silence.
The guard's finger tightened on the trigger
"Stand down."
A voice cut through the tension.
Another guard approached quickly.
"Boss says let him in."
A pause.
"…He's an old friend."
Silence dropped instantly.
The gun slowly pulled away from Gonzalez's head.
He didn't move.
For a second, he couldn't.
Then
He exhaled.
"Move it ," one guard muttered.
Mr. Gonzalez lowered his hands slowly.
Then walked forward.
Step by step.
Into the lion's den.
Inside Constanteen's Mansion
The doors opened.
Echoing.
Inside
Luxury met violence.
And at the center of it all…
Stood a man.
Calm.
Relaxed.
Powerful.
Terrifying without even trying.
Richard Constanteen.
Right in front of him
A body dropped to the floor.
Lifeless.
Broken.
Bruised beyond recognition.
The man had clearly been used as nothing more than a punching bag
Until he died.
Richard stood over the corpse.
Rolling his shoulders slightly.
Then casually wiped the blood off his fists with a white cloth.
Like it was nothing.
He glanced up.
Saw Gonzalez.
A faint smile formed.
"Sorry…" he said calmly, "I was a little busy."
He tossed the blood-stained cloth aside.
Stepped forward slowly.
"Well…"
A pause.
His eyes scanned Gonzalez from head to toe.
"This is unexpected."
He tilted his head slightly.
Then smiled wider.
"How do you do…"
A beat.
Recognition flickered.
"…The wild badger."
"The ultimate badass."
A soft chuckle escaped him.
"Rick Gonzalez."