The Wrong Man

Chapter 5

I sit there pondering for a minute or two before reluctantly getting dressed to meet Joshua downstairs. He guides me out of the house and into the car. The driver takes us to a fancy restaurant and, as predicted, Joshua doesn’t settle for a private date, instead, he’s snapping pictures of our food and of us to post on his story on social media.

I smile warmly at the camera and look down at my plate of food before taking a few tentative bites out of it. I don’t meet Joshua’s eyes as I eat, awkwardly finishing my meal after he does.

He takes some pictures with his fans and admirers before escorting me out of the restaurant, paying at the front in cash. He leads me back to the car and exhales heavily as soon as he shuts his door. “Home.” He orders the driver in a clipped tone, turning his attention out of the tinted window.

I glance at him for a moment to admire his physique and looks before looking out of my window, musing in thought about what I should tell Madison later on.

He’s not so bad to hang out with. The marriage is tolerable so far and is enjoyable since he doesn’t comment much on anything I do. Besides my work, of course.

Being in the underworld doesn’t mean I kill people ninety percent of the time ― though, I don’t mind the distraction aspect of that kind of job half the time ― rather, I assist Joshua’s father with transactions online sometimes. The money provided by g**g members can be used for that organization's activities, whether they are illegal or legal, gaining power, wealth, and influence.

Apart from what I do now, excluding my school responsibilities, the underworld is much more than that. g**g-backed candidates have a great deal of political power and can influence elections at all levels, from the local level to the national level. Providing they are aware of how to dominate others in control. They could choose to do whatever they want with that kind of competence.

Most of the time, those who devote themselves to the underworld, like me, don't need to hide from the government. Intermittently, they are well-known and respected members of society. They avoid complaining even when they know that someone is part of the underworld, fearing the power of our chain of command, even if the boss is the top executive of a high-end company. It is due to this reason that every person who has ever defied the underworld has said at least once that the most suitable way to defeat us is to expose our brutal suppression and speak out against it.

I serve as a growing adhesive to this kind of field of work. I studied what I need to know and fall in line to tackle higher-ranked positions until the day Joshua and I decide to have an heir to take over our life’s work. Whether the heir comes out to be female or male, they’re obligated to be inherited with everything we worked for.

Even debts are passed down to the next generation. So if Joshua and I were to conceive a child, we would have to be certain that this is what we want.

Just as Gin is supposed to be the White family’s new heir, our child would be too.

Not like Joshua would want that. He and I don’t have much progress to even try having a baby, let alone try to coordinate in a co-partnership.

In my eyes, at least.

We could make a bunch of underworld fronts and build high-end companies together to create our own chain of command. But what will that prove? That we’re superior?

I rather not use power to stand over people. Resembling my parents’ behavior toward others is not something I want to do in my entire life. I had a taste of their cruelty up close and I rather not inflict others with the same mistreatment for the sake of being on top. Being on top doesn’t mean s**t when I feel like I’m holding a scepter as a symbol of my sovereignty.

Being powerful will only make me depressed. As if it’s a slap in the face of my past.

“Stop really quickly.” Joshua tells the driver before suddenly jumping out of the still-moving car to head for the park, leaping over the gate to get inside.

What the hell is he up to this time of day?

After like two to five minutes, Joshua jumps over the gate again and jogs to the car, knocking on my window. I reluctantly roll my window down, feeling confused by what he could possibly want to give me on my side and stare at the flower in his hand. A daffodil.

“Joshua, what―?” I stammer, accepting the daffodil from him, staring at it in disbelief.

“I just thought it matched your outfit.” He says, rounding the car and climbing inside again. “Like it?”

I roll my window up and slowly nod. “Yeah,” I smile warmly at him, “I do.”

Joshua smiles, turning his head to look out of the window. “Drive, take us home. Thanks.” He says in an unvaried tone, slightly slouching in his seat.

My eyes stare at the daffodil in admiration. He gave me a gift… and it’s so pretty…

I smile, warily twirling the daffodil. Maybe marriage isn’t so bad after all.

“We should definitely open another restaurant.” Joshua mutters, scrolling through the documents and data on his tablet. “Somewhere that’s close by a mall, a good walking distance from a park, and a good drive away from a gas station. That’s where the most people are crowded at. Especially at night.”

“What would you serve?” I ask, signing email after email for his parents. When the hell are they coming home? There are too many emails to do alone. And why are most of them from stock market sellers?

“I don’t know.” He sits up, shutting off his tablet. “Want to look around with me?”

“Didn’t we just go out a few days ago?” I ask, not trying to sound rude or uninterested in the idea.

“Yeah, but there’s no reason we shouldn’t go out again?” He stands up and walks toward me. “This is for a work reason this time. Plus we’re married. Who cares if the husband and wife goes places together?”

Those that want a cover story, that’s who.

“Sure, we can go. What time?” I say, signing the last email so I can leave.

“Mm… now?”

“Okay,” I sign off the tablet, “now it is then.”

"Good afternoon, my name is Gerald. Welcome to the best Thai restaurant in the city. How can I serve you today?" The waiter politely greets us in their best exuberant tone. I can tell that they’re trying not to sound too annoyed by the fact that they had to talk to customers all day. The deep breath gave it away but who am I to call them on it? I know firsthand that determination can’t take away the stress that was bottling up inside of those who work to live.

Until they die after earning enough to retire for a few months or years.

"Take-out for my wife and I," Joshua says to the person in a monotone, taking out the card from his wallet. His eyes scan the restaurant to look at the different people seated at the tables, rather than at me, who is standing next to him, resisting the urge to walk out of the place to escape the busy restaurant.

"Okay," the waiter briefly nods, writing it down on their notepad then looks back up at Joshua, ignoring the way Joshua is attracting attention from multiple customers who are obviously inundated by his looks and popularity. "What do you want to order?"

"Uh," his tired eyes finally meet mine. He looks into my eyes, quirking a brow in curiosity for my order.

I look at him for a few seconds, thinking of a good meal to order, then look at the waiter to finally reply with, “Tom Yum Soup With Coconut Milk, please.”

“Okay,” the waiter jots down my order, “and to drink?”

“Um,” my gaze flickers from Joshua to the waiter, hesitant to reply, “I don’t know. What do you recommend?”

They look surprised for a moment before they speak again. This time in a more soft, discreet tone. "I recommend the iced peach tea, Mrs. Michael―" Joshua clears his throat, briefly shaking his head which causes the waiter to look a bit startled before looking into my eyes again. "―Mrs. White. I apologize." The waiter corrects.

I flashed them a warm smile then point to the pad in their hand, agreeing to the order that they picked out for me. “I’ll take the iced peach tea, please.”

“Same order.” Joshua says.

Not the best option to choose off the menu but it's the only thing that entered my mind to choose for myself at the moment.

“Alright,” the waiter gestures us to the waiting area of the restaurant, “you two can have a seat and wait for your order to be done.”

“We’ll just be back for it.” Joshua says, getting ready to turn to leave.

“We’re leaving?” My voice almost squeaks as I stammer, unable to correlate a coherent sentence out of habit to stay silent.

Joshua turns his head to look at me, sighing. He glances at the people staring at us with their phones out before nodding to the chairs. “Fine, we can wait. You can see the cooks from here, right?”

“Yeah.” Not really, but good enough to be satisfied, I guess.

We sit silently in the waiting area, trying our best to ignore the muttering from the people as they ‘sneakily’ snap photos of us sitting next to each other, wearing our rings that are in full view.

Then, in a low voice, Joshua says, “you’ll be coming with me to meet my friend Trevor and his girlfriend, Kelsie, tomorrow after you finish your classes for the day.”

Hearing the slight portentousness in his tone, I nod in understanding. “Okay.”

*** 

As soon as we get our food, we walk out of the restaurant and head to the nearest picnic spot to eat the food. Barely communicating and barely making eye contact. But the little thumps in my chest tell me that this is fine. At least, he’s eating with me in the nice weather.

He looks handsome with the sun shining on his face like that.

***

When we make it back to the house, I linger on the ground floor as Joshua ascends the stairs to head for his room, feeling a bit agitated after today’s ‘date’.

Should I even call it a date?