"This will be the last time, Kristofer," Charles Almodiel bellowed, the scandalous video clip running through his mind.
There will be no news regarding the matter, as he has taken care of it. Still, those present at the party had witnessed the humiliating clip of Kristofer, and he was certain it was forever seared in their memories.
"This will be the last and only time that I will clean up after your mess," Charles Almodiel warned, leaving his son with his mother as he exited to cool his head off.
Kristofer watched his father walk out of the door.
The disappointment in his eyes gave him the familiar feeling he had whenever he was around him—worthless.
"Do you know who was responsible for doing such a thing?"
Kristofer remembered the woman in red. But he decided to keep her identity to himself.
Yet he knew that it was only a matter of time before his parents found her. His mother would most likely have something in her hands sooner than he could. Compared to the reporters, Mrs. Almodiel knew where to look.
However, he was also well aware that his mother would never share anything until she was sure.
Ignoring his mother's question, Kristofer poured himself a glass of whiskey from his father's collection in one of the living rooms inside their house. He had moved out a few years ago and still enjoyed his father's drinks whenever he visited.
He then turned towards his mother, shaking his head, and displayed a somewhat disappointed facade.
"I am as clueless as you are, mother. Besides, there are endless possibilities of who it could be," he stated.
His mother hummed, knowing all too well that it was the truth.
There are a lot of people, especially some in his father's company, who would like to see him fail.
Many envied him and the position that he was to take over.
In truth, Kristofer would gladly give them the seat of CEO if his father would allow it. If he had that option, he would have chosen to do something else rather than merely inherit the company passed down from generation to generation.
Kristofer watched as his mother took a deep breath and stared at him. He took a sip from the drink and raised a brow towards her.
"The woman in the photo," his mother spoke, catching his attention. Kristofer braced himself. He knew that this was coming. One way or another, she was going to ask him about her because of that photo.
"I know, mother. It was nothing. I was merely talking to her when the reporters began to swarm us. You know how they get."
"Find her." Kristofer almost choked on the whiskey that had just burned down his throat.
"What?"
"I want her to be found."
"But why?" Kristofer looked at his mother and saw her seriousness with that statement.
"I'd like to formally meet her. She seemed like someone with class—someone fit to be a wife."
--
With a bucket of ice cream in her hand, Anna sat on the living room couch. A blanket was covering her body. She briefly wiped away the tears that had fallen from her eyes.
"Why are you always doing this?" she muttered, sniffing. "Please, at least, have a happy ending," she silently begged. But of course, it was a crazy thought, she knew.
A movie is a movie.
It's already written. The ending is already fixed. Yet, it's a bit idiotic to hope for a different one.
"That's life, I guess. We hope for things that are most of the time out of our reach."
She briefly placed the bucket of ice cream aside and grabbed a few pieces of tissue to blow her nose.
After which, she wiped her eyes and blew her nose, finally done with her crying fit that she had just undergone.
"What am I even doing to myself?" she muttered. If anything, she was torturing herself.
She had cursed love a long time ago, and the life she was living right now was a sure way to keep her single for a long time.
However, for Anna, that did not mean that she couldn't watch or read romance-themed movies and novels. It was a form of torture, but a torture she would rather pick than literally have her heart broken over and over again.
The movie was close to its end, and Anna was on the edge of her seat. It was not surprising that when her phone began to ring, she jumped, placing a hand over her heart.
She had to bite her tongue to stop the curse that she was about to mutter. Like all other calls for the day, she was about to ignore it when she saw the caller ID.
Sighing, she reached for the remote and hit the pause button.
"My little flower." Anna can't help but smile. It had been a long time since she had heard that sweet voice.
"Mama, when will you stop calling me that? I'm no longer a little girl."
"Nonsense, no matter how old you get, you will always be my little flower."
Anna was almost back to crying once more.
However, before getting too emotional, her brows furrowed in wonder.
"Mama, if this is about the photo, believe me, it was nothing." Anna heard her grandmother chuckle at the other end of the line.
"And your old lady has wished for it to be true." Anna shook her head.
"That line never gets old, mama."
"Oh, but you are." There was a brief pause as her grandmother let out a soft sigh. "You have forgotten what day it is tomorrow, did you?" At that, Anna looked at the digital clock closest to her. Seeing the date displayed on it, she was left to stare at it longer than she had intended.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Hush, my dear little girl. You do not need to apologize. Will you be able to make it?"
Anna nodded, almost losing the willpower to speak.
"Yes, I will be there," she said, remembering that her grandmother was on the other end of the line and not with her.
"I will be there, mama. I promise."