The Red-Haired Lover

Chapter 7: Maria's Unanswered Questions

“Miss?" Sophie's voice whispered into her ear.

A ball of emotion rose in Maria's chest again. She looked at the sky to keep the tears in. “Hi Sophie," her voice trembled slightly.

“Are you alright, Miss?"

Maria wiped the corner of her eyes and forced a smile, “Yes!" She managed to chirp. “I'm alright."

“Did you eat well?"

Maria burst out into chuckles, remembering Sarkon's nagging yesterday.

“Miss?"

“Yes, I've been eating well," she sniffed.

They both fell into a thoughtful silence.

Maria wanted to ask how everyone was at home, but she knew she wouldn't stop crying afterward. She dismissed the idea immediately blurted, “Take care, Sophie."

“You too, Miss."

Maria waited for the maid to end the call before she removed the phone from her ear.

It was really nice of Sophie to call. Just a few seconds of hearing something familiar and warm was enough to lift her spirits for the rest of the day.

Julie Gold frowned at the girl in drab clothes sitting on the bench not far from where she stood.

That girl has been an eyesore since the moment they met.

She had been looking forward to college life and was exhilarated when strolling through the campus grounds, dreaming of a million good things that would happen to her. Then, she arrived at the dormitory and was told that her request was rejected. She would have a roommate like every other student there.

Julie went berserk. She threatened to call the authorities, but the matron only cast her a bored look and shushed her out of the office.

Infuriated, Julie planned to threaten that roommate. She saw the girl's name and had never heard of it. Maria Davis. Who was she?

Julie knew everyone. Everyone. So, she concluded then and there that this “Maria" was not one of her kind. She was a nobody.

Why would a “nobody" enroll in this school?

Julie panicked. She hoped she was not some royal princess taking on a fake identity to study here. Julie couldn't have that. She was determined to take on the title of the most popular girl—the queen—on campus.

Then, a scrawny, pale girl stood before her in a faded blue cotton dress. Julie was both relieved and disgusted. Who the hell wore cotton these days? She couldn't believe that the school had arranged for a country girl to be her roommate. What the hell were they thinking…

As Julie stared on, the country girl stood in faded skinny blue jeans that nearly gave her a heart attack. What's the deal with this girl and faded blue clothes? Did she just come to the most prestigious school in Lenmont dressed like a beggar? Is she crazy?!

“Are you alright?"

Julie removed the hand from her forehead and blinked. The country girl was right in front of her looking all worried… and downright disgusting.

“I'll be alright if you leave this place. You don't belong here. Look at you! Who the hell wears this… this garbage!"

A frown was firmly back on Maria's face. “You were holding your head, so I thought you weren't well."

“I was holding my head because I saw the garbage you're wearing, and it's hurting my eyes! Leave me alone! Don't talk to me ever again! And don't tell anyone we're roommates, you hear me! It's revolting!"

The rude girl turned on her heels and stalked off into the sports arena.

Aware of the stares she was garnering, Maria lowered her chin and walked off stooping.

*****

“Did she say anything else?"

Sarkon stared at his laptop screen as Sophie shook her head in fear.

“Don't call her again," the deep voice stated quietly.

“Y-yes, Mr. Sarkon," the older woman nodded frantically. “I'm sorry."

“Apologies are not needed," came the curt reply. “You never make such mistakes. Why now?"

Sophie kept silent. Some things were not meant to be said. She had taken care of the girl for almost a decade, so it was natural she'd worry like a mother hen. It was the first time that Maria was away from home.

“It won't happen again," the maid muttered apologetically. She knew that Sarkon meant well.

They were aware that Maria would feel worse if she heard from home so soon. The girl had become very attached to the villa and the staff.

“I trust it won't." Sarkon dismissed the maid.

Sophie left as quietly as she came. Once the door closed, Sarkon finally shifted his gaze from his laptop screen to the door. He then leaned against his chair.

A knock on the door and a large pale man like a tough biker guy entered the study. His face was in a constant menacing expression. Behind the intimidating wolfish physique, moving with the crisp footsteps of a fox, was a younger man of a slightly smaller build in a sharp business suit.

“Sarkon," the younger man stepped out of the shadows and adjusted his gold-rimmed specs. “We need to move. Now."

“Have you found it?" Sarkon threaded his fingers together and rested them on his hard abs. He glanced at the dandy man and then the man with an angry scar on his brow bone.

The elite man, Sarkon's secretary, nodded. “No one knows about it yet, but the owner plans to inform Archie soon. Once the dealer knows, the whole world will get the news, and prices will start jumping."

Sarkon stood and felt his pocket for the round metal piece. “Let's go. We'll take the PLA." He glanced at his secretary and strode toward the door.

The older man came smoothly to his left while his secretary followed briskly on his right.

“Any news from the eye?" Sarkon looked ahead. His question was intended for his bodyguard. His secretary was whispering into his phone.

Karl answered, “No."

Sarkon exhaled carefully and nodded at Albert as they walked past him.

Albert bowed back. “Have a safe trip, Sir."

“Sanders, is it here?"

The secretary removed his phone from his ear and replied, “Yes. It's on the helipad. You sure you don't want to take the jet?"

Karl opened the door to the black limousine, and Sarkon slid in.

Once Sanders got in from the other side, Sarkon took the file from him and started reading.

The elite glanced outside the window and sighed, “The powered lift aircraft is for emergencies, Sarkon."

“This is an emergency, is it not?"

That damn thing's not comfortable at all, Sanders grumbled silently. With a shift of his specs, he replied, “You're the boss."

*****

The aircraft roared high above the sea.

Sanders checked on Sarkon and then flashed a thumb at the pilot. With a deadpan face, he stared ahead, letting his thoughts take over his mind.

Next to him, Sarkon was staring down at the brilliant navy waters until it morphed into waves of golden parched grass. His hand went on top of his pocket, pressing onto the pocket watch resting inside.

The dull drumming of the engine started to roll the same old scenes in his mind like an endless loop…

The kindest pair of eyes smiled back at him. “Isn't she adorable?"

Sarkon stared at the picture of a little girl in two ponytails grinning widely at him. She was missing two front teeth. The sixteen-year-old chuckled. “She's cute. How old is she?"

The retired special forces commando weakened his smile and dropped his gaze in guilt. “She's eight this year. This was taken when she was three."

Sarkon didn't know what to say, so his father's personal bodyguard continued in a thrilled tone, “She's very talented. Loves to draw. Here." A family portrait was pushed into the teenager's view. The older man added, “I don't know much about art, but I sure know that an eight-year-old couldn't have done this."

Sarkon detected a proud note in the man's voice and studied the drawing with the eye of an art dealer. “The colors are odd though."

Those retired, kind eyes turned flat. “Why you…"

Before Sarkon could react, a huge arm wound around his neck. He was bent over like a wilted flower. “C'mere you little brat." A fist drilled onto the top of his head.

“Hey!" Sarkon cried out in protest and then broke into giggles. “Cut it out, Alfred!"

Maria's father laughed along…

“Sarkon."

A shake to his shoulder snapped him back into the aircraft. The distinctive blaring filled his ears again. Sarkon's blue eyes surveyed the flatland below like an eagle and then wandered further. His mind was calculating the amount of space and recording any observations of the surroundings.

He turned to his secretary and shouted over the noise, “We'll take this!"

Sanders nodded and typed away on his tablet.

The ruthless businessman and sharp investor returned his gaze to the cliffs beyond the flatland and let his mind drift back to his memories with Maria's father.

He was more of a father figure to Sarkon than his biological dad. On numerous occasions, Sarkon had seen how dedicated that man was to his job in protecting him and his flirtatious, trouble-attracting dad.

BOOM!!!