“Mr. Ranya Windsor,” Damian said confidently as he walked towards Ranya, his face no longer masked with anger but replaced with a smile. Ranya looked up from the system as the well-dressed man in a blue suit approached his table.
“You’re not kidding me, are you?” Ranya asked, gesturing towards the system on the table. “This is a cafe, not your office.”
Ranya scoffed loudly, shaking Damian’s outstretched hand, and whispered, “The last time I checked, we were supposed to meet for work. I agreed to this cafe meeting because I know you brought him with you. I can only avoid unnecessary drama by choosing to meet in public.”
Damian laughed and took a seat across from his friend. Damian Lillard was Ranya’s cousin, and he chose to work for him due to his political agenda. Being the Prime Minister’s personal assistant had many advantages for a politically minded person like Damian.
“I see you’re avoiding questions about Vivian,” Damian remarked, staring intently at Ranya, whose expression turned cold. Ranya detested discussing his relationship with Vivian.
“Conversations about Vivian are off-limits, Damian,” Ranya replied coldly, returning his gaze to the system. “My decision to be with her is no one’s business.”
“But you’re only hurting yourself with those decisions, Ranya,” Damian persisted. “What makes you think she won’t hurt you again? She’s clearly back because she wants something from you. Vivian is after gold, and you know it.”
Ranya chuckled, typing on the laptop. “It’s my gold, Damian. Enough of spewing nonsense. Tell me why you’re here instead of the convict. You’re not running these baseless errands for him, are you?”
“No,” Damian replied, scanning the environment. Everything in the cafe exuded wealth, just like the man sitting across from him. “Nice choice of hangout. It looks like your taste, and I see it’s new.”
“It’s new because I just opened it. Now, back to business,” Ranya said, clearly eager to move on.
Ranya had always wondered how Damian could hold any political office with his high level of distraction. He disliked seeing this man during working hours, as he always found reasons to waste time.
“You own this place?” Damian asked excitedly, earning a nod from Ranya. “When and how did you do this without telling anyone?”
Ranya groaned and stood up, ready to leave the conversation with Damian, who seemed to have nothing meaningful to say.
“Fine,” Damian said reluctantly, understanding Ranya’s intention to leave if the conversation was not productive. He had come for business and to convey an important message from the Minister to his son.
“Anthony’s s*x tape got leaked, and the opposing parties got hold of it,” Damian began, adopting a serious tone. He was diligent when it came to work, but couldn’t help acting childishly around Ranya.
Ranya’s face twisted into a mocking smile at the news. Damian sensed the mockery in his eyes but quickly shifted to a stern look as he typed the information on his system, his legs crossed regally.
Damian coughed and handed Ranya some pictures from a file. Ranya’s face furrowed at the explicit images of his stepbrother.
“He’s captured shamelessly with a blonde,” Damian said, joining Ranya in a mocking laughter that momentarily broke their serious facades.
“This is not a criminal case, Damian,” Ranya said, his lips free from a smile but his eyes still filled with amusement and mockery. “I believe this can be settled without involving me.”
“Well,” Damian started, finding it hard to suppress his laughter. “We need a lawyer to shut them up. That’s why you should at least read the news. It’s everywhere, and a lot of damage has been done.”
“It’s affecting the Minister, isn’t it? Good for him,” Ranya replied, glancing outside. For a moment, his breath caught as a woman walked past the cafe. He couldn’t quite place her as she quickly disappeared into a cap. She looked so much like Calista.
He shook his head, closing his eyes. He must be imagining things. Calista couldn’t be the woman he just saw, but the thought of her made his heart race.
“Yes, and we fear he might lose the presidency because of the news,” Damian said, bringing Ranya back to reality.
Ranya turned his gaze back to Damian, trying to refocus on the work he had left his office for.
“So?” he asked, fighting the urge to look back at where he had seen her. But he couldn’t resist. The car had already left.
“That’s where you come in, Ranya. You’re good at convincing people. You proved yourself three years ago when you fought against your father for a commoner.”
For some reason, Ranya’s eyes darkened at the term “commoner.”
“Did you just refer to my clients as low status?” he asked, surprising Damian. “You seem to have forgotten that my firm caters to an elite clientele.”
Ranya knew he was only angry because it involved Calista. It was unfair to label someone who could afford his services with such a term.
“Well, I’m sorry,” Damian apologised, still looking confused.
“Go on,” Ranya urged, returning to his typing.
“So, we want you to tell the court he’s not involved. You have to make them pay for trying to ruin our reputation.”
“This is evidence, Damian. If I’m cleared, you want me to claim he photoshopped these obvious pictures of him with a blonde?”
“Well, lawyers are liars,” Damian replied curtly. “You know how to manipulate that.”
“If that’s the case,” Ranya said, closing his laptop and standing up, “you should find a lawyer skilled in deception to help him out of this mess.”
Damian followed suit, still looking confused.
“You’re not taking this case?”
“I should sue you for wasting my time,” Ranya replied as he entered his car. He turned to Damian, who was eager to know if he would take the case. “I’ll have Valerie send you a file. They’re good lawyers recommended by me.” With that, he closed the car door and drove off, leaving Damian in a state of confusion. He hadn’t even been able to deliver his betrothed’s message to Ranya.
As the car pulled into the underground parking lot, Ranya made his way to the elevator. His secretary approached him, handing him an envelope.
He furrowed his brow, wondering why she hadn’t brought it directly to his office. “I would have delivered it directly, but the lady insisted on giving it to you personally,” she explained as they walked towards his office.
“A lady?” Ranya asked, opening the envelope. “Vivian?”
“No, sir,” she replied as he pulled out a card and a note. It was his home card with a brief message.
“She’s the lady from last time... Miss...” Valerie tried to recall her name. “The lady with brown eyes... Miss...”
“Calista,” Ranya said simply, making her nod in recognition. A fresh floral scent filled his nostrils as he brought the note closer. There was nothing written on it, and it smelled... he brought it closer to his nose and twitched, handing it to Valerie with a look of confusion and surprise.
“Did she sanitize this?”