A cold gale whipped his face as he ran through the dark night. White snowflakes fell from the sky, coating the world in a blanket of show. His face was pale and scared, his feet getting heavier by the minute. The boy kept on slipping but managed to steady himself. The wound on his hand was deep.
Blood gushed out of it but he did not care; he must get to the other side of the road as soon as possible. There was not a soul in sight but a few cars were rushing past him. He tried to stop some of them but no one cared to help.
The boy staggered on in pain, his heart filled with fear and desperation. He could hear the loud footsteps of that person behind him, closing in. There was no time to stop because if he did, he would die. And he could not let that happen.
Just a little further...he told himself. He limped towards a phone booth up ahead, the only thing in sight. The cars would not stop for him nor did he expect them to. If there was something he had learnt in his life, it was that no one would extend a helping hand to others. Not even to their own loved ones. He was alone and he must survive alone in that cold world.
"A...little...more…" he gasped but his foot slipped on the ice and he tumbled over on the hard concrete ground. He tried to get up but his body could not move at all. His consciousness was fading and he heard a pair of footsteps approaching him.
A large shadow fell on him and he saw that person staring down at him. Her lips were curled into a beautiful yet cruel smile. Green eyes peered at him, taunting his state.
"Pity," she whispered. She was pointing a gun at him but he was not afraid of her. That woman wanted him to be afraid of her but he was not going to give her that satisfaction.
"I guess, today is the day you die," the woman's soft voice echoed in his ears. He fought to stay awake, staring back at those loathsome green eyes. The eyes which would haunt him for eternity.
BANG!
The sound of the gunshot pierced through the night, thundering throughout the whole area. Crops of blood sprinkled on his face and his consciousness gave away.
As he lay on the cold ground, he tried to get a glance of those cruel eyes. They were staring back at him with intense rage, burning into his memory.
"Pity…" he whispered back and blacked out.
….
Lucas slowly opened his eyes. The cream colored ceiling of his bedroom came to view. He did not dawdle on his recurring nightmare but simply got up as if nothing happened. His phone beeped and he picked it up to see a message from Tommy.
"Sir, your grandmother has requested your presence," he wrote. "Tonight at 8 PM."
Lucas put the phone aside. More nightmares to come, huh? He thought warily.
Even though he did not want to go to the main mansion, he knew that his ego would take him there anyway. His father would not be pleased to see him and the rest of the family would not want to associate themselves with him either because of his profession. Only his grandmother was keen to meet her eldest grandson and did not care much about the rest of her family members. She was the only one who showed some affection for him and Lucas was bound by duty to adhere to her wishes.
He texted Tommy with a simple, "Ok" and put his phone away. Taking off his shirt, he headed straight for the shower to wash himself.
The warm water touched his tanned skin and relaxed his muscles. His chiseled muscles were glistening under the shower while water droplets rolled down from his sturdy chest down to his rock hard abs. His dark hair was matted by the water as he stood under the shower thinking of that woman again.
He had seen her after almost more than a decade and to his shock, she still had that effect on him. The moment he laid eyes on her, he felt his fears returning again. For years, he had filled the empty vacuum in his heart with a desire for vengeance and blood. It was a constant reminder to him of the things he had lost, the people he had left behind only to walk on this path alone. The life he had once known was snatched away from him, leaving him to die.
He wished for death too. For many years, he had stalked death, waiting for it to take him. But the darn thing kept on avoiding him like a plague as if he was something dirty. He had sent many to the arms of death and yet, it would not embrace him. Was it because of her?
Turning off the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and stood in front of the mirror. He could still feel her delicate body shivering under his touch. Her scent lingered in his senses, unwilling to let him go. His hands had memorized her soft skin and her voice was resonating in his ears. No matter how much he tried to forget her, she came clawing back into his memories as if unwilling to leave him.
"Haven't you burned me enough in this fire?" he mused. "Or will you turn the entire world to ashes?"
….
"Achoo!" Lillian sneezed. Her mother, Natasha, looked up from the counter.
"Did you catch a cold?" she asked in worry. "Should I bring medicines?"
"Relax mom!" Lillian giggled. "I'm fine. It's just a little dust."
It was the weekend and Lillian was using her free time to help her mother in setting up the cafe. The shop was still in the pre-launching state because a lot of the decoration was still incomplete. Natasha was busy measuring the space for the counter while Lillian was painting the cafe with a mixture of bright colors to add a fun ambience to the place. She had opted to use all kinds of shades to create a magical forest on the walls.
Lillian was wearing an apron and had her hair covered by a shower cap. Her hands were donned with rubber gloves and different palettes lay around her as she mixed the colors. But her mind was on something else.
The stranger from last night was still plaguing her mind. Who was he and why did he hide his face from her? If he was trying to help her, then why did he not offer it like a normal person instead of scaring the daylights out of her?
What a weird guy, she thought. His deep voice was still etched into her memory. For some strange reason, the presence felt familiar but she could not recall anyone who had that sort of intimidating aura.
Was I imagining it? She wondered.
"Lily!" Natasha exclaimed. "Are you even listening?"
"Huh?" Lillian was startled. "Mom, did you say something?"
"I said that tomorrow is your father's birthday!" Natasha reminded her. "Can you pick up the cake from the baker?"
"Oh!" Lillian realized, feeling a little guilty for not paying attention to her mother's words. "I will mom."
"He looks a little troubled nowadays," Natasha sighed. "He won't even tell me anything."
"I've noticed it too," Lillian agreed. "But you know him. He won't tell us what's bothering him."
"Someday, the man is going to get himself in a lot of trouble!" Natasha claimed. "Being so secretive and all!"
Lillian was about to say something when her father entered the cafe. Her father, Howard, was a portly man in his late fifties with wiry hair and a jovial demeanor. He was usually charming and happy-go-lucky with everyone around him.
"How are my favorite girls today?" he joked, giving Natasha a kiss.
"Busy!" Natasha remarked. "So much to do and the machines aren't here yet! The coffee machines, oven, microwave, stoves! I've called the supplier and he said they'll arrive by today but-"
"Relax!" Howard laughed. "I'll call him again."
"And we'll have to pay them as well," Lillian reminded him. "Along with the decorator and handymen as well. Also, we'll need to hire a few extra hands soon. I've designed the flyers to hire servers."
"The cost is a lot more than I estimated," Natasha said with a worried expression. Howard hugged his wife.
"Relax!" he claimed. "I've got it all under control. I told you that I took out a loan. It's enough to cover the expenses."
"The bank loan?" Lillian asked. Howard's smile twitched a little but he quickly hid it.
"Yes," he lied. "The bank loan I took out months ago. I've got plenty of time to repay it. So don't worry. Just focus on the cafe, alright?"
Lillian noticed that her father was forcing a smile on his face but before she could ask anything, his phone rang up.
"I gotta get this," he told them and darted out of the cafe to pick up the call. Both Natasha and Lillian stared at him.
"What's going on with him?" Natasha wondered.
"Maybe he's too stressed out," Lillian suggested. "Let's plan a good surprise for him tomorrow."
Natasha nodded and both of them began to discuss the dinner party.
Meanwhile, Howard glanced at the cafe, making sure he was not being overhead. He gulped in fear and answered the phone.
"H-hello," he stammered.
"Howard, my old friend!" a sly voice came from the other end. "I hope you'll return my money soon."
"You said that I had a year!" Howard claimed but the man on the other end only laughed.
"You trusted the words of a gangster?" the sly man chuckled. "We take our money whenever we want. And I want it by tomorrow. Two million dollars isn't a small amount ya know. We gotta live too. Bring me my money by 9 PM tomorrow. Otherwise, I'll have my men pick you up for a little...discussion with my boss, Lucas Hao. And he's not as kind as I am."
The man snickered again and hung up. Howard was sweating profusely, unsure of what to do. If he did not return the money, there was no doubt the loan shark would kill him.
"What do I do?" he whispered in dismay.