I can't help but keep smiling as I think about how awesome I've been this day. I just nailed Gray Langdon. Humiliated. Crucified. Hell, this is just epic. I can't wait to see the news about the prank I pulled on him. Just thinking about it makes my body tingle in excitement. Oh, I haven't had such fun in so long a while.
The tires grinding the asphalt break me away from my fantasies and I snap my head to look outside the dark-tinted windows of the passenger seat. The Woods mansion looms ahead, swallowed by the dense forest beyond. The sun has already set just beyond East River, the water a sparkling yellow orange in the distance. I turn my attention to the vast front yard and I notice three black Mercedes Benz parked in front of the porte-cochère. My chauffeur, a stocky man who looks like the real version of Super Mario, drives the car ahead toward the garage where Martha, the Head Housekeep, is waiting for me.
"Mr. Woods awaits you in his office, Miss Lucy. He requests that you make haste," the old woman informs me. I hate how my father makes it a point to address me formally like a spoiled child of an aristocrat. Okay, maybe I'm a spoiled brat but hey, girls who have the same life as I have is totally different from how I live mine.
But more importantly, father's back?
Relax, I tell myself. You've done nothing wrong this time, Lucy, have you? Well, aside from what I did to Gray Langdon, that is. Nodding politely to Martha, I head directly to my father's office that's just beside the living room.
Sitting behind the huge mahogany desk is Marcel Woods, leafing through a thick folder with the logo of Helterground printed on the cover. He doesn't seem to be aware of my presence and his wide forehead is crunched in deep thought. He finally notices me when he puts down the blue folder on the table. He starts but recollects himself immediately, his face flashing me a wide smile.
"There you are, Lucy dear," he begins. He points to the chair across the desk and I obey timidly. He's the real boss, really. I just take over, you know, when he's not around.
"I didn't know you were home. When did you arrive?" I ask warily. He was in China for three days as a guest speaker for a business conference.
"Just this morning. So, how is your clothing line faring these days?" Just as expected. He knows nothing about the interview and the prank. I clear my throat and give him a short report. When I finish, he slowly nods. "Marvelous. Exceedingly marvelous."
"You know me, I don't stop learning. Like you always tell me, 'learning is a life-long process.' I try to make it a point to follow your example." I shift on my chair, getting more uncomfortable by the minute. This is getting nowhere.
"So, sweetheart…" he begins again, taking an entirely different tone. His voice is much sweeter this time. He leans forward and meets my gaze intently. "We have a business meeting tonight."
I stare at him with confirmation. "I knew it. What business meeting?"
"Well, I need you to be present at the dinner table because the co-owner of Helterground has come for a visit and he wants to meet you."
"Wait. Co-owner? We own Helterground, don't we?"
"I may have failed to mention that our company has been operated by two families since 1904. We are merely its co-owner. The other half of Helterground is owned by another clan."
That's new. I lean back and study my father's face more closely. "So, the business meeting tonight is with this another clan?"
"Exactly, dear."
"Ugh. Fine. I'll be there. Any more favors?" I scowl. As if on cue, his phone rings and he fishes it out of the inner pocket of his black suit. Reading the message seems to alarm him greatly, his forehead creasing several folds.
"I would like to indulge myself telling you the nature of my business tonight, my dear, but they are here and ready for us. Meet us at the dining room in five minutes." Father rises and hitches his pants. It's amazing how he manages to maintain his muscular frame no matter how busy he is, and sometimes I wonder whether he is really busy at all. He walks in long strides toward a small wooden door in the corner of the room that leads directly to the dining area. Before turning the knob, my father retains his Mr. Marcel Woods face and pauses to look at me. "I expect you there, Lucy. Non-compliance has its consequences."
"Yes, Mr. Woods," I answer in formality. I know for a fact that when my father calls me by my name alone, he is dead serious. He gives a faint smile and disappears through the door. I sigh and lean back. Why, oh why do I have to be born in a corporate family?
I let a minute pass before making some effort to stand and head for my room.
After changing in a hurry, I check my appearance in the mirror once again. I pat some stray hair back into place and smile. My, my. Some sort of Aphrodite incarnate I am.
Time for some fan interaction, I tell myself as I grab my phone from the nightstand. My Instagram is very active because I handle the account personally. The IG feed is filled with Fallen Grace features and merchandise. There are also posts that show my private life and I post them regularly through the IG story.
My forehead creases with a frown, though, as I open the app in my cell phone. I am surprisingly logged out. That never happened before. I try to log in but the application won't accept my password. I can't even access my e-mail to recover the password. I try to open my Twitter and then my Facebook page but I am also logged out! What the hell is happening?
Just then, Jessa calls my phone. I immediately answer. "Jess, I think my accounts are hacked."
"I was just about to tell you that, Lucy! Your profile pictures have been changed, too."
"What?" I shrill, my eyes widening in a mixture of surprise and fury. "Send me a screenshot. Now!"
"Hold on." After a few seconds, my iMessage beeps and I open the photo attachment that Jessa sent. Against the black background, wedged between the red letters S and C is a crude sketch of a scarecrow.
"What the hell?" I mutter as I bring the phone back to my ear. "Can you trace who did this?"
There is silence on the other line. I could hear Jessa panting while she's probably trying to fix the error. "Oh," she says after a moment. "They're not trying to hide."
"Who are you talking about?" Instead of answering, Jessa sends me several screenshots of my Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram profiles. My blood boils as I read the bio description in each account:
THIS ACCOUNT IS TEMPORARILY OWNED BY GRAY LANGDON AND HIS SCARE CREW.
"Gray Langdon even shut down all the videos and pictures of him that went viral today. The internet is blocking any posts about him and I have absolutely no idea how he is doing it."
"The fiend," I say, my hand tightening its grip on the phone in outrage. "He's fighting back! He just declared war, Jess. I intend to answer it."
"Don't be too rash, Lucy. Your accounts being hacked is already a huge PR problem."
"I don't care! I won't let that stupid Southern mongrel beat me in my own turf." Angrily, I toss my phone to the bed and let out several deep breaths to calm myself. Letting Gray Langdon in my nerves is a fatal mistake. Clearly, that's his plan—to disorient me. And he almost succeeds. Lucky me, I am Lucy Woods.
I will deal with him later. My presence is still required at the dining table tonight.
Composing myself, I let Martha usher me downstairs to the dining room where my father is laughing with another man about his age. I thought there will be guests. That's in plural form, for crying out loud. Anyway, father catches sight of me and nods approvingly at my appearance. "There you are, my beautiful daughter."
The other man stops laughing and turns his head to my direction. I am struck with the intense familiarity of the face, but I couldn't identify where exactly I've seen him. He has a well-built body although it isn't quite obvious with his black suit on. His brown hair is combed back neatly from his wide forehead and his pair of intense brown eyes gaze at me appreciatively. I walk toward the long table and settle myself at the right side of my father.
"You are very beautiful indeed," the man says after a moment. I bow my head slightly, almost graciously. I could really act angelic when I want to. Amazing, isn't it?
"She is, she is. It is quite a burden for her trying to ward off all those gentlemen courting her. Isn't that right, my dear?"
"Not exactly, father." More like I'm having fun kicking their ass, is what it is. But of course, this is a business dinner and I'm supposed to act and speak diplomatically. My eyes roam the table hungrily, suppressing the urge to swallow hard and drool. The kalamata pork tenderloin with rosemary looks really good right now. There's also chicken breast draped with some prosciutto ham capped with sautéed mushroom. Fortunately, I'm off my strict diet plan tonight.
Why aren't they eating yet? Are they still waiting for something—someone?
I take a sip from my glass of Côte de Nuits, feeling the fiery liquid burn my throat in a nice way. A figure suddenly emerges from the archway between the living room and the kitchen and the wine almost sputters from my nostrils.
"It's nice to see you again, Luce." The mellifluous drawl sounds like a death march in my ears. What the hell is he doing here? I put the wine glass down and glare at Gray Langdon. The fury at having my accounts hacked flares up inside me. He doesn't seem to care, though. He strolls over casually, languidly, and takes a seat across from me.
"I see your son have met my Lucy already, Cornelius." My father is smiling. Why is he smiling? Then it dawns on me a little too late. Cornelius Langdon, my father's partner in Helterground Corporations, is Gray Langdon's father! Why, oh why did I not see this coming?
"I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Woods. My name is Gray Leylouch Langdon." He extends his long arms to shake hands with my father. I try to regain my composure but pathetically fail. If Gray ever mentions what I did to him earlier, I am so dead.
"I like your son already." Father looks at me and I turn to him inquiringly. What? "Aren't you going to introduce yourself to Gray's father?"
"Oh," I say, flustered. Get a grip on yourself, Lucy! "I apologize for the rudeness. My name is Lucy Ferdelance Woods, Mr. Langdon." I extend my arm across the table toward the old man.
"Lucy Ferdelance?" Gray turns to me, his eyebrows jutting. "Doesn't it sound like Lucifer?" Shock ripples through me and I take my hand back, feeling as though my skin is burned.
Everyone stops dead and looks at him, startled. My jaw drops to the ground and I can't find the strength to pick it up. Only friends close to me are allowed to bring that name up. When I don't answer, Gray stirs and fakes a surprised look. "Oh, my bad. I apologize for my boldness."
My father forces a small laugh and shrugs dismissively. "Don't worry, Gray. Lucy's middle name is actually a Creole-French word that means 'head of a lance', an appropriate name to describe her character: sharp-witted, straightforward."
"Indeed, Mr. Woods, but it is my knowledge that 'ferdelance' is a pit viper, a snake. A remarkable coinciding of characteristics, don't you think? Nevertheless, it is a very beautiful name." Gray leans back on his chair and looks at me triumphantly.
Damn you.
"A magnificent thought, Mr. Gray," my father says but beneath his polite expression lies a shade of embarrassment. "Shall we eat?"
I remain silent, at a loss. The gourmet in front of me doesn't look appealing anymore. I couldn't let that bastard have the pleasure of thinking that he's gotten back at me. Hell, no one does that. I down the red wine in one long gulp and watch him eat.
Gray Langdon could be real handsome, I notice. His reddish-brown hair is fixed in a messy but stylish way and it perfectly reflects his intense brown eyes. His facial features are defined, aquiline, almost like a carved stone. He moves fluidly, like he's sure of his every movement. But he disgusts me. He angers me. He makes me want to punch him in his face. Ugh!
Forcing myself to stay calm, I withdraw myself from the conversation. I need to reconnoiter. Gray Langdon isn't an easy challenger. He has the air of competence I haven't seen in anyone for a very long time. I watch him inconspicuously, observing him move sleekly like a cat. There is grace and caution I sense there. Definitely not a good sign.
"So, Gray," my father says after he finishes discussing some business matter with Mr. Langdon. "How did you meet Lucy?" Blood drains from my face and I swallow hard. I pretend to busy myself with food, but all my senses are on their hyper acute level.
This is it.
"Now that you mention it, Mr. Woods, I would like to personally thank Luce for what she did earlier today."
Holy crap.
"Pray tell, son." It's his father who answers. No, no, no, NO. I squirm on my chair uncomfortably and I could feel my heart beat wildly. Damn. Why do I feel so nervous? I have a smartass mouth. I could talk my way out of this, I could make an excuse—
But wait. This is Gray Langdon, my arch nemesis. I can't back off and run away. Fuck it.
Gray looks at me for a long moment, his eyes scrutinizing me carefully. Then he breaks into a crooked smile. "Why don't you tell them, Luce?"
Stop calling me that, I could have yelled at him, but I smile instead. "You tell them Lang—I mean, Gray. I know the story's so much better when told at your point of view." This earns me an evil glare. Well, you cannot put me down easily either, Langdon.
"Sure, if that's what you want." He turns to the old men and begins his story. "This morning, I was introduced to a so-called 'Helterground Welcome' orchestrated by none other than Ms. Lucy Woods."
"What is he talking about?" My father's face fills with anticipating humiliation.
"Nothing, father, just a little fun, you know? Heh." This is bad, really bad. I stuff a spoonful of loin steak in my mouth, hoping to swallow my hyperventilation along with it.
"Curious to know who Lucy Woods is, I meet her strutting with all her ardor and magnificence"—I'm hearing heavy sarcasm here, I swear—"and she welcomes me very warmly. I didn't know you take things literally here in New York. You see, when she told me that—excuse me—shit is coming down, at first I thought it was a threat, a metaphor to convey that something real is about to happen, but then a bucket of it was poured on me. Forgive me for my crude language at supper but I am really fascinated with the peculiar New Yorker ways."
I clear my throat at this, feeling a spark of anger. "Excuse me, that was mud, not shit."
"Why would you do that to someone?" Father's voice is rising in fury, his face reddening. Shit, shit, shit, shit. Mr. Langdon's face is withdrawn, his lips pressed in a thin line.
"It's just a joke, Daddy!" I yell defensively but I could already see this is going to result to another war between me and my father. I bite my lower lip, trying to keep myself together. I forgot I'm not supposed to call my father 'daddy' because I'm supposed to act formal tonight but the whole thing is already ruined because of Gray Langdon, the jerk.
"That is not a good joke, Lucy Ferdelance Woods." I may have mentioned before that when my father calls me by my name alone, he's dead serious but when he utters my full name with that kind of face, I'm dead. Seriously dead. Quickly, I shut my mouth and stare hard at my half-eaten food.
"I believe this adjourns this dinner. Cornelius, we should talk in private, perhaps in my office. I am truly sorry for my daughter's mischief and for causing trouble to your son." My father stands and gestures to his left where his office is.
"Don't fret, Marcel. It amuses me to think Lucy and Gray are so alike in so many ways possible. This will not be a problem in the future, I am certain." Mr. Langdon turns to me, his eyes twinkling. "It has been my pleasure to meet you, Lucy."
"So have I, Mr. Langdon," I answer feebly. Gray stands, too, and casts me a scornful look.
"Mr. Woods, may I borrow your daughter for a moment? I would like to speak to her. Perhaps she can walk me to the porch."
"Most certainly, Gray. Good night to you." My father wipes his mouth with a white handkerchief then turns toward his office without looking back. Cornelius Langdon follows him silently after one last glance at us. When we're alone, I face Gray with indignation, my eyes burning with rage, but he only smirks and pulls me toward the front door. His hand is warm against my skin, but I ignore it and snatch my arm back.
"Don't you think you've won, Langdon," I bark at him. "You'll never best me on my own turf."
"This is just the beginning, Luce. There's more coming until I exact my ultimate revenge." He steps forward and closes the distance between us. I back away, taking even steps and trying not to flinch under his gaze. My body slams against the wall and Gray chuckles in a low tone at my own entrapment. He plants his hands on both sides of my head and he leans close, his face inches from mine.
"Move or I'll kick your ass," I say through gritted teeth. I flatten myself against the cream-colored wall and put as much space as I could between us.
"I may have won this round, don't you think?" Gray asks, his chocolate eyes boring into mine. I couldn't think of a witty reply and my blank expression makes him chuckle darkly. He moves his face closer and whispers into my ears. "See you on the island, Luce."
In one swift motion, he's gone in front of me and he is now marching toward the idling car across the porch. I blink several times, dazed. I suddenly don't know what just happened as I watch the black car speed away, leaving in its wake a swirl of dust. For the first time in my life, I'm forced to admit that I've blown it. Gray Langdon might just be the only person who could break through my walls.
I'm not gonna let that happen. Never.