His Addiction

Chapter 4

He won't take no for an answer.

I found it rather funny, recalling how Bash's bodyguard stalked off after handing me that well-laminated card.

That comment sounded like his boss owned the entire Sao Paulo, and every citizen here followed his puppy_love rules.

Then where did that make my grandfather, the great Emmanuel Iglesias, stand right now? Under a hybrid actor's thumb? Alpha Grandpa would rather die than wait for that day to come into his life. Someone who loved power would never want to sign any contract with a young and inexperienced entrepreneur unless that man had a strong backup whom grandpa could use in his favor.

It might sound like I was looking down on that star, but it wasn't the case. I was in dad's office most of the time for mom, so I was aware of things. Bash would have had a chance if it was my dad in the position, but now, he would get played by grandpa, and, in the end, it would only be him to blame for wasting his time here in this city---oh, sorry, I mean in South America.

Should I give Bash the reality check?

Erh- Nah! Why should I bother myself with this matter when he called me a stalker, ruined my image in front of his friends, and threatened to send me to prison? But I can scare him off by making up stories to leave Elias and Emily alone through one phone call.

That superstar wouldn't want me there if I shared this little secret that Elias, the event planner he wanted for his woman, was me, the girl behind his walking difficulty three days ago. The poor guy had to take help from his woman to lead him to the elevator.

Could anyone blame me for that? He had that coming anyway.

I smiled cheekily and turned to the next page of my diary in my lap.

"That actor isn't a threat. He made his intention clear to me. So, you're now free to fly to Seattle to settle, Emily."

Mumbling softly to myself, I wrote a few lines about that star, a brief report about the incidents that occurred in the past few days, and how Bash almost caught me, yet I didn't write his name. I turned the page like I had become habituated with my life and traced the outline of the rectangle-shaped card I attached a few moments ago.

Mom left me years ago, but I still felt her presence around me. Partly it was because I wanted to feel that way and that I had her complete support and blessings at that point in my life when I was slowly losing hope. It was hard to stay strong. It gets suffocating when people there want to use you for their benefit. How did you survive alone this long, mom? I wished she could answer that with me lying in her lap. My parents taught me many things in their way, but they never told me for once how to live without them.

"Oh, no, not this again!" I scoffed in a wavering tone and wiped the tears that escaped my eyes. If I gave in to my emotions now, I would get a headache, and I certainly didn't wish to knock on the owner's door for a glass of hot water and get an earful from her.

Dad used to tell me that nothing happens without a cause. That was why I glued this card to the diary in my lap.

Who could tell when this contact will come in handy in the future?

The knock on my door had me toss my diary in my suitcase and check the lock twice before I headed to see the person on another side. It was one of my three roommates with whom I shared this 3BHK apartment, and I called her the owner as it was hers and the rest were just PGs. "You have some visitors waiting downstairs, Elias. Check before you let them in this apartment."

Quite Robotically, Ms. Heigl said before heading back to her room without hearing my response. And why wasn't I surprised again?

I quickly checked my appearance in the mirror and locked the door of my room behind me before coming out of my apartment. Jogging down the stairs, I went to the ground floor from the third floor and was very nervous about meeting my coach after so long.

It had to be him.

Before dropping me home on that day after picking me up from work, the officers told me they would bring my coach directly here after checking in at the hotel. I wanted to avoid the meeting, but they insisted and told me to join my coach in his appointment with my grandpa. I could see the opportunity to get a sign from him on the papers, yet it was dreadful, and I hoped to miss it somehow.

After my last international match, I took a break from swimming, and my coach fell for my lies when I told him that my sister and I needed time to overcome the loss of our parents. Not even four or five months ago, we lost them both, so he didn't find anything unusual in my confession and freed me from our contract. Little did he know I had no plan to resume my swimming career anymore.

Now, it was different.

Bartending was not a career option. No one would want to hire me as a cook with no culinary degree. And I wasn't that naive to fall for that oh-so-in-love couple who said they would use their connections to help me to get a job in a high-end restaurant or an internship at an event planning agency. Swimming was the only thing I knew, and I made a name in that field with so many trophies and Olympic medals in my locker in Belgium, but neither of my part-time jobs would be enough to feed my sister once a day.

As I reached the register counter, I breathed in relief when my eyes fell on the lady officer whose back was facing me. I could only hope that she would tell me the thing I wanted to hear. . .like my coach missed the flight here or something close to that. He might be wealthy and owned half of Belgium, but he was against owning his jet for some reason, and his elder son wasn't allowed to have one either, even when he had his own business, which had nothing to do with sports or even clashed in the future.

"Evening, Ma'am," I made my way toward her, greeting her with a forced smile that she failed to notice quickly.

"Elias," Cautiously, she took my name, and people there passed by us, uninterested like they usually were. "How was your day?"

"Better than I've ever been! I have a day off today. You know that."

I felt sick in my stomach whenever I thought about meeting my grandpa because I knew what to expect when he and my coach would again come face to face after my mother's death and him abandoning both of his granddaughters when they lost their parents.

Not that it mattered to my sister or did she ever feel the loss of our parents, as they were never there for her, but she cried when I cried. She was barely three then. I shouldn't expect so much from that girl who misunderstood me as her mother. I didn't correct her back then, but I regretted it soon when the authorities took her from her, and from there, she came to know I was not even her sister.

"Your coach left for New York." The officer said after taking me to the passenger seat of her car. I followed her obediently when she gestured for me to come with her, as it was not safe to talk about this matter in the apartment. As soon as she sat in the passenger seat, the driver started the engine, and I turned my gaze to her when she said something shocking, "Your grandpa has been planning something. From an internal source, your coach's son got the information that senior James would be sending someone to the hearing day in court. Your lawyer and our team have listed down the suspects, and guess what we came to know this morning?"

By then, I had already turned pale as a sheet. I was scared would be an understatement. Even the word petrified couldn't express the things I was feeling right then. How could Grandpa use Cheryl as his pawn? Before I could digest the whole thing, the agent in the driver's seat had to drop another bomb on me, and instantly, I told them to drive me to my grandfather's place. They looked dumbfounded at first and probably wanted to take me to the police station to get me to talk to the commissioner, as a diplomat from Seattle arrived for me to escort me home safely. But before leaving this country, I needed to speak with my grandfather one last time.

"I don't think it's a good idea, Emily." The car halted on the side of the road. The lady officer looked tense, and I didn't like how worried she looked as she turned to see me. I couldn't stand it when someone looked at me with pity. That was the last thing I wanted from these people. "You know very well now why he wanted to involve the media. It has been like, what? A year, right? You have been staying for over a year, but he didn't think of anything like that. Now, he is showing his true face slowly. His intentions still aren't clear, but we know he wants you to do something so he can trap you. And you are asking us to take you in his place?"

"No, I am not asking you to take me there, ma'am. But I am telling you that I am going." I left no room for argument, and there wasn't an ounce of remorse and guilt in my eyes for behaving so rudely to them. "It is something I have decided after hearing you. Besides, I don't think we should travel together. I am taking a cab to the estate, and you will follow me from a distance. Call your force. You have to make sure the media or any acquaintances of my grandpa don't have my picture with them on their cellphones."

With that, I opened the door from my side, and as I was just about to step out of the jeep, the agent asked, "But your files? They aren't with you, Ms. James. You don't want his signature anymore?"

"I won't touch a single penny that grandpa used to hurt my sister, sir." My smile didn't reach my eyes. The sky above me was black, with no stars or moon there. It was still nothing compared to the emotions and dark intentions I had planned in my mind. Smiling still, I asked, "In NYC, whose account is it where my grandpa transferred that huge amount? Do you know his name?"

She looked hesitant at first but told me nonetheless.

"Sebastian Fernandez, Ms. James. He is the one who sends the money to your sister's biological parents, who live downtown."