RIVALRY RULE NUMBER 101

Three— They're Terrible.

Independence, a word that's often misunderstood more than any other word. Independence isn't the liberty to walk around freely or to settle in any place out of one's will. Independence means liberty over one's own body, liberty to choose one's livelihood, liberty to think what one wishes to and to accomplish it. Independence is not being caged in a castle, wearing royal dresses, with food and internet. It's like you are being caged behind the golden bars. They all mean same— caged.

Living with Father was akin to this. He wanted us to stay indoors until he felt fit to let us out. I felt like an animal in Circus— well trained. He only wanted us to show up to the world when they questioned about his family and he needed us to pretend how happy we were. We had to pretend to be happy when we were far away from it. He wanted to chop my wings off when I wished to fly, soar so much that no one can ever question me and my achievements.

Father never wanted us independent. He never wanted me to work independently. He said, that would raise too many questions and why work as a servant when you can be the boss. He never wanted me to go out and work because for him, I was witty, childish and too much open-minded for the outside world. He wanted to cage all of us in the castle of gold and diamonds, he had built. He wanted to be in charge of everything we did. Only if he could impose, he would have kept the track of the breaths we took in a minute.

"I knew you would be here."

The spatula from my hand fell on the ground with a loud noise. I was startled to hear him. I was too caught up in my thoughts. Embarrassed, I bent down to pick up the utensil before I turned towards the source of my startling.

Fresh and crisp as ever, Victor Harris stood in front of me. He sometimes gave me the vibe of the Kings in the ancient times, just like they were followed by their troops and soldiers to protect them, he too was followed by his bodyguards. He was standing at my shop like he owned the place, carefree as ever.

His dark gaze bored into mine with so much intensity that my whole body quavered at once, embarrassingly. Like he was searching for something in my hazel orbs, maybe answers to mysteries he yet hadn't conquered about me. I was awestruck by his presence, though I'll never say that out loud. Dressed in a neatly ironed grey shirt and dark jeans with an overcoat to resist the cold out there. A small smile slipped on my face, almost an amused curl at his overcoat. He learnt his lesson well.

"You weren't there in the school." He again spoke, his gaze unwavering and I rose my brows at him.

"You were looking for me?" I asked, shocked that first time in eighteen years he was looking for me. He wasn't shocked, however as he nodded his head, humming in process. "Why?" I again asked and he smiled, breathing out through his nose.

"You astound me, Burton."

I scrunched my eyebrows, removing the freshly baked cake from the oven and placed it to cool down naturally as I started preparing for the icing. God forbids the day, Victor Harris would be astounded by me. The world must be indeed near to its end.

"I astound you? How?"

He hummed, taking a step ahead, pressing his palms against the counter and a few strands of his dark brown hair fell on his forehead, halting my work, momentarily. The signet ring in his index finger caught my attention from his hair and a soft scoff elicited out of me.

"You are a Burton," He started and I chuckled lowly, shaking my head. How can I forget I'm a Burton when they all breathe the same thing on my neck in every goddamn minute.

"You don't say."

"You're one of the most powerful and richest family in this city yet you're working in a small shop in a town. Why?"

The way his forehead's skin creased while speaking told me that he was genuinely curious. The way his rough voice asked me question, it had no malice, no mocking tendency; pure curiousity that intrigued me somehow. And the question wasn't new for me, neither was its answer. But being asked by him was new. Yesterday he was making fun of me, but today— today he was keen on knowing me.

Freedom. Freedom to earn, freedom to commit mistakes and take responsibility for the same. Freedom of crying out loud and not being judged for it. Freedom to live a normal life. Because the life I was living was merely breathing, not living. I held no power in my own decision making. I was in a pseudo assumption of being independent but I was really a slave.

But should I tell him? Would be ever understand my dreams? But the real question was— Was I even allowed to voice my dreams and goals without Father calling me for the same in the midnight? But then agaim, why did I care?

"Burton," He called me when I didn't answer his question and suddenly the words of my Father rung in my ears.

"Freedom."

"Huh?"

"Freedom to take decisions of my own life, Harris. Freedom to be independent." His eyebrows furrowed at my simple answer as if I were speaking some alien language with him. He was even more confused than before and the thought itself made me snort.

"Aren't you a free human, Burton?"

"Are you?" I asked instead and he leaned closer and so did I. I took a step towards him, giving him all my attention. This was the conversation I never had in my life; people never understood it. But we were having it and Victor Harris was trying his best to understand it.

"Huh?"

"Are you really free, Harris? Do you have the liberty to choose your own paths of life?"

"I am." He said, confidence swirling in his orbs and I smiled, shaking my head, resuming my process of preparing the frosting for my cake.

"Are you really?"

That made him froze. His licked his lips, not speaking for a while. It was silent amid us for the longest time before I heard some unzipping noises and then a faint vision of him placing something on the counter. I turned to look at him. It was my sweater he had placed on the counter, neatly folded.

"As to answer your earlier question of why I was here," He spoke, motioning towards my sweater, "I was here to return it. Though I don't appreciate being forced to wear women's clothing but thank you, anyway for helping me out yesterday, Burton. I—I didn't expect it from you."

"You really think very highly of me, Harris, I must say." I sighed, shaking my head and he scoffed.

"I think very highly of your family even, Burton." Sarcasm was clear as day in his voice as his eyes flashed with agony for a second, burning with anger and a cruel smirk graced his lips and I suddenly felt a bitter taste in my mouth. Why? I didn't knew.

"Excuse me?"

"Of course, after all, your father didn't even waste a second to call my father to narrate the tale of you playing knight in shining armour for me. I'm flattered, Burton. I really am." He was spitting fire, intending to burn me and something within me curled. I didn't do it for my father, I didn't do it for myself either. I didn't do it for Harris; I helped him because that's how I am. Compassionate. But Father had to ruin it for his profit, of course.

But a last name of Burton is enough for anyone to think that any generous act out of me is just a way to c***k deals and get an upper hand over them. So I let them think of whatever they wanted. I didn't explain anything in return, after all it would be wastage of time and energy. Instead, I smiled, nodding my head.

"Please refrain yourself from me calling your Knight, Harris. I'm nobody's Knight in shining armour. I, however am very selfish and self centered being. I didn't help you because I am compassionate— no, not at all! I did this because I love having an upper hand over everyone. I'm a Burton after all." His eyes narrowed as he glared at me with every ounce of energy in his body. Only if he had powers, I'd be lying dead from the intensity of his glare.

"You don't just astound me, Burton, you also confuse me to Hell."

"I do? I'm flattered, Harris that I induce more than just one emotion in you." I spoke with a sweet smile and his jaw ticked as he crossed the counter, lifting the movable part up, invading my personal space and I involuntarily took a step back. My breath started to come out rugged but he too occupied to notice it.

"You didn't left for your home after you dropped me, Burton. You headed towards your rented apartment in the other side of the town. Tell me, I'm wrong. Come on, tell me." My eyes widened as he spat my secret out. My breath hitched for a second as I gulped.

Oh God! Oh God! He knows about my secret! Oh my Fudging Lord!

"Were you— were you stalking me?" I asked, my eyes wide and red with anger. The audacity of this man that he had the nerve to stalk me. Me? Me!

"Stalk? You're way too ahead of yourself, Burton. My family and I maybe in a dozen of illegal businesses but I am not a wretch, woman! I was worried. The storm did arrive after an hour you dropped me and I didn't had your number to ask if you arrived at your place safe and sound. The roads were skiddy last night!"

My heart curled inside my chest at his words. He was worried, for me? I didn't knew what to say. When Father called me last night he announced me his order to arrive for Hariss' party on Saturday but not even for once asked if I was alright. If I needed him or some help. And a stranger who someone disliked me for his whole life because I was born in his father's rival's house was concerned for my well being.

Warmness spread inside my chest as I gazed up at him, not knowing what to say. He was standing very close to me, we were almost touching each other, so close that I smelt his faint cologne that made me inhale for it once again. My fingers trembled and so did my body. I had never been this close to a boy before unless it was me fighting them. He soon came to his senses, his lips parted in surprise as he took two steps back, hastily and bumped against the counter, making me clench my eyes at the noise.

Victor Harris wasn't a playboy. He was arrogant, rude, charming and smug but never ever he played with anyone's emotion— not that I've ever seen him playing with people's heart in my entire life.

My eyes shifted to his bodyguards, who were waiting outside the shop for him to come out but he made no motions to get out. What was he even waiting for? Me to apologize or he himself wanted to say something. It wasn't my fault, he made himself look like a stalker a few minutes ago. But it wasn't his fault either. So, I did what I felt was the best replacement for the apology and I removed a cupcake and a muffin and placed them in a tray before sliding it towards him, gently.

His left brow rose and my cheeks started to burn as I bit my lips, not able to get the apology out of my mouth too. It wasn't my fault entirely! Rolling his eyes, he stuffed his hand in his back pocket before removing out his wallet and I rolled my eyes.

"Yesterday you slammed a bill worth of three days of muffins in a row."

His lips twitched for a millisecond before they were set in a thin line as he stuffed his wallet back and picked up the muffin before taking a bite of it. His eyes closed for a moment as his mouth worked slowly, he was savoring my muffin! In the next minute, he opened his eyes, and my hazel orbs got caught in his dark gaze. I couldn't even gulp when he opened his mouth to speak.

"They're terrible."

A small smile slipped on my face as he took another bite and another and another until the muffin was long gone in his stomach. I pressed my lips to suppress the smile when his eyes narrowed at my almost grinning face. He then took the cupcake with chocolate frosting and bit into it. I saw him taking a deep breath while he continued to chew on them. Not even a minute later, the tray was clean and empty.

"They were even more terrible."

This time my grin didn't get suppressed even after he glared at me. He bestowed me his attention for a minute longer. His gaze drinking me in and I couldn't keep myself from staring into his dark pool too. He was beyond my understanding. He sometimes behaved like a cold hearted person and the very next moment, he felt like an adamant yet innocent child.

He nodded his head, almost in his acknowledgement of leaving and I too nodded back. Soon he was out of my sight and so were his men and were followed by children and people to buy some deserts.