When Vincent's limo arrived at the Johnson mansion, Paul knew that his boss would rather linger inside that car, instead of going to his own comfortable bed in the mansion.
The two other bodyguards with them went down as soon as they arrived.
"Boss, we're here."
This was all he said. Then, he waited in the driver's seat, in case Vincent had further instructions before he went to his own room at the staff pavilion.
"You can rest now, Paul. I think I will stay here a bit. I can lock the limo myself later. Thanks."
Vincent replied, shifting a little to glance at his driver.
"Okay, good night, Boss."
Paul answered, as he alighted, and locked the front side of the limo.
Alone, at last, Vincent stared lazily at the ceiling of the car. After a while, he closed his eyes. He massaged his head a bit. He felt a little headache building in his temple. Maybe, he might catch a cold.
He thought to himself.
Presently, Vincent replayed his encounter with April tonight. The whole thing seemed ridiculous now. He was not even sure what he wanted out of it anyway. It was a big surprise to him because he hadn't expected to see her after years of looking for her. But he would never admit that to her. Why should he? She ran away from him.
But if he would really give it a thought, April had definitely changed a lot, with the exemption of her stubbornness, which obviously remained her dominant characteristic. However, she was lovelier and sexier than ever.
He sighed in exhaustion. Just thinking about April made him tired.
So, after what might have been an hour or so, Vincent stepped out of the limo and locked it. Then, he walked slowly out of the garage, dragging his legs like heavy blocks of icebergs. He must really be coming down with a cold.
The garage was located in the basement part of the Johnson mansion. Actually, it was one large span of the basement, where all his luxury cars were kept. He passed two of his men in black suits before he reached the elevator.
"Good morning, Boss!"
Both men chimed but were not surprised by their boss turning up at this hour.
He ignored them as he entered the elevator. He just punched the button heading to the bedroom level. He leaned on the glass panel while the elevator went upwards in a steady motion.
When the elevator finally reached his bedroom floor, Vincent took a deep breath, bracing himself, as the elevator door slid open.
As he had expected, he saw Doreen sitting on the couch, with her arms crossed over her chest. She was wearing her nightdress with a robe over it.
Doreen, now his wife, had always waited up for him, but never really showed any emotions nor said a word. What's she doing sitting there, looking upset?
"Why are you still up? Do you need anything?"
Vincent asked, with annoyance in his tone, not caring to even hide it from Doreen.
"I don't need anything! Where did you come from now? You're always going home late! What do you plan to do with your life?"
Doreen replied, with a tone matching Vincent's.
"Does it matter where I go? What are you suddenly asking me now? Just leave me alone!"
Vincent lashed out. He was not in the mood to play husband and wife with Doreen tonight. He knew she didn't really care.
This was what a business marriage looked like. They had never been a real couple at all. They were married for business convenience and they both knew it.
"You are right, I don't care. But you could just at least pretend. You were not the only one forced into doing this! You agreed!"
Then, after speaking those words, Doreen stood and walked straight into the master's bedroom. She didn't even wait for any response from Vincent anymore. In addition to this, she even regretted asking him. Therefore, she made sure she shut the door as loudly as she could manage.
As for Vincent, Doreen's actions didn't affect him at all. He shrugged his shoulders, then afterward, Vincent slumped on the couch that Doreen emptied. He was feeling doubly exhausted.
In truth, he didn't want to start an argument with Doreen at all. But somehow, he was angry deep inside. He was not angry with her. He was angry because he felt miserable.
How did his life turn out this way? He couldn't imagine how anything could get better.
Vincent rubbed his temple again. There was definitely that headache now.
So, he lay down on the couch, without even bothering to change his clothes.
Right now, he recalled marrying Doreen in the past. Back then, they were good friends. He had been with Doreen in several family gatherings but little did he know he would end up marrying her.
Doreen studied abroad but when she returned to Atlantic City, both of them were forced by their families, and of course, his governess, Mag, into this business marriage arrangement. Apparently, Doreen's older sister manipulated everything.
At that time, he believed Doreen really had feelings for him, so he agreed as well. He had nothing to lose and at the same time, making his friend get what she wanted was fine enough.
To the public, two wealthy families merged as one. A good business tie-up, a perfect relationship.
Suddenly, he stood and walked towards the bar. With these thoughts running in his head, he needed a drink. So, he got a glass and poured himself some scotch. After getting his drink, he carried it back to the couch. He slumped back carelessly.
Without any particular thing to do, he glanced at the master's bedroom where Doreen had retreated to after their senseless argument. He realized that he hadn't slept there for a while now.
He drank his scotch in one go and decided to get some more. Maybe a few more drinks then he would get some sleep. Vincent had a few more glasses of scotch.
Finally, he decided he had enough of drinking. He sprawled on the couch carelessly again.
This time he got into a drunken sleep. Soon, he was snoring loudly lost in his own loneliness.
This is the lost Mafia boss, Billionaire CEO, in his unguarded moment.