Gracia's mansion
——
"Be prepared to marry, Mirella," her father's words rang in her ears. What is her father attempting to convey?
Mirella is just nineteen years old and an actress in making; how could her father dare to bring up the subject of marriage? Mirella bit her lower lip.
Mirella raised her head to face her mother, Frida. This was not how she had envisioned her life; she didn't want to be someone's property or a monster's mother. That was why she surrogate-planted her foetus in Elisabeta and chose to frame her with her one-night encounter.
Mirella was once pregnant— of course, for her lover, Lucas. She had intended to flush the baby, but her mother had objected due to Mirella's condition; why wouldn't Mirella devise another strategy to satisfy her mother?
Elisabeta, on the other hand, feels the kid within her is the result of a one-night encounter. So painful.
"Father, I can't marry just now…" Davis had already left the study room before Mirella finished her statement. She raced up to her mother and grabbed her close; this couldn't be happening; it couldn't be happening!
"Mother, please do something; I adore Lucas. We even promised each other that we would marry after all our dreams comes true. I can't marry another guy; if that occurs, I'll die; please mum, talk to your husband…"
"Shh" Frida covered her daughter's mouth with her hands. "Be quiet; your father could hear you; you know how he lurks these days."
But this was not the solace Mirella required. Her father decision-making approach was well known to her. He is a man of his own world who never changes his mind unless something strong compelled him to do so.
——
Davis clenched his hands on the steering wheel, not knowing what had happened to him when he urged all of his drivers to stay away and allow him drive solo.
Davis was aware of how many enemies he had who were eager to murder him with a single shot; of course, all businesspeople wanted him dead, or at least to vanish from the face of the planet, as long as his name was wiped from the business world.
He was a car engineer, a seven-star hotelier, and the owner of estates across the United States.
It required a lot of inner fortitude for Davis to keep his cool after reading the letter sent by an anonymous who had been disturbing him for a while now. The anonymous even informed Davis that his wife, Naomie was dead and sent pictures through emails to prove he wasn't lying.
Davis intended to divorce Naomie the moment he realized Elisabeta was not his. He punched the steering wheel as his heart regretted not taking actions earlier.
He had attempted to coerce Naomie into telling him who Elisabeta's father was, but she refused and kept herself concealed from him.
Then Naomie's illness struck. He had no option but to retain her, despite the fact that he had never liked her in the first place.
He attempted to practice this thing called love with Naomie and her daughter, Elisabeta, but all he knew was that he was pushing himself to do something he didn't want to do.
But who was he to defy the Gracia family's authority? No one born into the family ever married on their own valition. The same could be said regarding his two younger brothers.
For its commercial tactics and relationships, Gracia was intended to be a name remembered for millennia and thousands of generations to come. Except for one, no corporation had ventured to compete with the Gracia family's wealth. The Gracia had always come out on top owing to their well-planned approach of forming partnerships.
Davis breathed and sipped his black coffee before pulling into a parking lot. He had called for an ambulance earlier. He climbed down his Jeep and raced inside the hospital.
"Please excuse me," Davis said, The doctor came to a halt and turned to face Davis. "I am seeking for the body of my late wife; she died yesterday. She goes by the name Naomie Gracia"
"Sir, what do you call her again?" The doctor asked Davis to confirm what he had initially heard.
Davis groaned; if he had known Naomie and her daughter, Elisabeta, had been in town for the previous three months, he would have taken action. He wasn't so callous to abandon his Kitty.
"Her name is Naomie, light skinned, have a gap tooth... Is it possible I'm in the incorrect hospital or are you trying to play dumb? Don't you know who my wife is?"
The doctor shook his head and nodded simultaneously "Yes, I mean No. I don't know who you are, and No I am not dumb"
"Here is the thing, we can't just let you take the corpse with you, sir. We only know Elisabeta, the late woman's daughter, and he told us not to approach.. you; in fact, I'm endangering my life by talking to you."
"And you claimed you didn't know who I was?" Davis screamed. "Wait, you said he instructed you not to… what precisely is his name?"
"Ahm, Sir, I um… I can't tell you," the doctor responded, taking two steps back from the irate Davis.
Davis chuckled scornfully as he locked his attention on the doctor. "How much did he pay you to be quiet? If you tell me, I'll treble it."
"Sir, bribes are not accepted in…"
"$10,000. Tell me who the hell he is!" Davis clenched his jaw as he fixed his gaze on the doctor, hoping he would accept his offer and tell him everything he knew.
"Sir, he gave me thirty thousand," the doctor said, rejecting Davis's offer like a businessman turning down a weak investor's offer to grow his firm.
"Tell me all you know, every single detail, and I'll pay you fifty thousand dollars."
"Fifty?" The doctor shouted as if Davis had said something he shouldn't have spoken. "So you believe my life is worth 50 000 dollars? Do you realize the danger I'm about to take by telling you something holy, uh?"
Davis breathed and placed his palm on his chin before glaring at the doctor. "Sixty-five thousand is the ultimate number. It's only a tidbit of information, and I pledge to keep it private.
Who is this individual? Is he a youth or an adult? Rich or ordinary? Just tell me before I loose my patience!"
The doctor reached under his coat for his phone and informed Davis his account number and bank. Davis transferred $65,000 to the doctor's bank account.
Davis was agitated; he simply wished it wasn't the anonymous who threatened the hospital staffs to ignore him. What offense did he commit?
The doctor fixed his coat collar and hid his hands in his pocket while gazing sides, backward and ahead before approaching Davis. "I heard he is in charge of the underworld. I didn't believe it until I met him in person today; he may be paralyzed, but that man has strength; power to break down anyone. Any person who believes he is strong cannot even…"
"What the heck is his name?" Davis yelled and grunted. "Spare me the Mafia tale!"
The doctor let out a soft chuckle and rubbed his palm together. "I didn't mean to give you the wrong details, he isn't a Mafian…"
"Name?"
"Fine. Um, I believe his name is Athan. He is also referred to as Mr. Moore" as his gaze rested on Davis' face, the doctor's smile faded. Did he say something that irritated him?
'whatever' Gabriel shrugged; anyways, he was now $65,000 wealthier. His heart leaped in excitement. He removed his doctor's coat, placing it on his arm.
"Sir, are you alright? I am a night duty doctor, and as you can see, it is becoming late; why don't you go home, drink some soup, and maybe try some Asian delicacies; their cuisine is usually great. Goodnight Mr. Gracia"