"Mother" he said, answering the call.
"Adrian," she called.
"What do you want, Mother?" he asked, trying to sound calm despite his strong feelings of displeasure and hostility towards her.
"Is that how you talk to the person who gave birth to you?" she questioned.
Gave birth to him? That's ridiculous. She had warned him not to call her "mother," not to reveal their relationship, and not to expect any motherly love from her. He had heeded her warning and followed her rules because he, too, didn't want a mother.
Now she was calling him and expecting him to act like a son. She definitely needed something from him. Something he wouldn't be willing to comply with.
"Never mind. Someone stole the business sketch of Dè Villa Wrld and showed it to your grandfather. Now he wants me to hand over the company and resign," she explained.
"What do you want me to do then?" he asked, showing little concern for the situation.
"Seriously? You don't know what to do?" she exclaimed, almost yelling.
"I don't know, enlighten me," he replied, even though he had a good idea of what she wanted to say.
"I want you to find the culprit and make their life miserable until they admit that the whole thing is a fake," she demanded.
"Find the culprit? I'm not doing that, mother. I don't have time for such," he declared, ending the call.
That jerk, hanging up on me while I'm still talking.
Well, since he won't help me, I'll have to resort to my backup plan.
"To get rid of the old man, since he's a threat to my success. That should be simple," she whispered, a sinister smile forming on her face as she plotted her plan.
He returned to the room and found Anna fast asleep on the edge of the bed, dangerously close to falling off.
He lay down and observed her, fearing she might tumble off if she moved.
She had been sleeping like that ever since she arrived, and he had never been concerned or scared about her well-being. He always acted indifferent to her comfort, convincing himself that she didn't matter to him. But now...
He could feel his heart pounding, even when he tried to ignore her as usual. He couldn't help but turn to watch her while she slept.
She stirred in her slumber, lifting her legs as if searching for more space but almost rolling off the bed instead.
How gormless, he thought.
Reacting quickly, he caught her waist, pulling her close to his body and placing his hand on her waist as her head rested against his strong chest.
What was happening to him? It had been a long time since he had felt this way, and it was already unsettling him.
He hoped this wasn't the same feeling he had for Cara because he couldn't bear the thought of her being in danger or getting killed if they discovered who she really was and what she meant to him.
He gazed down at her with a mix of emotions, realizing that he had entangled her in his messed-up life. He hoped she was strong enough to endure all the hardships that would come if this feeling he had for her was indeed "liking" her.
*****
The morning sunlight seeped through the delicate lace curtains, casting a golden glow that filled the room with a dazzling radiance.
As I woke up and climbed out of bed, I immediately noticed I had drifted from my usual position and ended up in the middle of the bed.
"Guess I must've rolled over in my sleep," I mused, before heading to the bathroom to freshen up for the day.
"Breakfast is served, ma'am," one of the maids informed me.
I made my way to the dining room and found him already seated, indulging in his meal.
Taking my place at the table, I hungrily began devouring the food before me. Even though I avoided meeting his gaze, I could sense his intense stare fixed on me, causing a wave of discomfort to wash over me.
"How was your night?" he suddenly inquired, causing me to pause in surprise.
"Is he actually talking to me? Maybe not."
He rarely acknowledges my presence, let alone asks about my night.
"Why aren't you answering my question?" he pressed, and I reluctantly glanced up at him.
"A-Are you talking to me?" I stammered.
"Is there someone else in here?" he asked with a furrowed brow.
"Oh... my night... my night was fine," I responded, and he nodded without uttering another word.
We finished our breakfast in silence and departed from the table once we were done.
"Adrian!" we heard a male voice bellowing his name from downstairs, and curiosity sparked within me. Nobody has ever dared to mention his name since I arrived here, so hearing someone shouting it meant they must share a close connection.
I glanced at him and noticed a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he walked towards the door.
Yep, they must be close. I'm dying to know who it is.
I rose from the bed, opened the door, and proceeded down the hallway leading to the lower floor. Carefully hiding behind a wall, I strained my ears to catch snippets of their conversation.
"What's your problem, Ryder?" he asked, taking a seat on the couch.
"I don't have a problem, but I've got some really troubling news for you," Ryder replied.
"What's this tough news all about?" he asked, appearing nonchalant.
"Two prominent members of the Eastern underworld are dead."