This day was a hectic day for Beckett, but his body was already used to it. He pushed himself to work harder and be more determined just so he could escape from sadness every time he was alone.
What he wasn't used to was the fact that instead of resting and sleeping, Vivianne was still on his mind.
"Fuck," Beckett muttered as he drank the whiskey in his glass in one sitting.
Instead of staying in the penthouse, he went to the den where his men were. His drug cartel was one form of his escape. He would go there whenever he felt confused about life, while Nathan would keep watch over him.
"Do you have a problem, boss?" Nathan asked when he saw how troubled their boss looked. Nonetheless, he still looked handsome.
"Lovelife?" Nathan wanted to ask that, but he didn't want Beckett to throw a glass at him. Beckett was scary when he's mad, but Nathan didn't think he was angry. He could see the unease in his eyes.
"Nothing," Beckett replied as he clicked his tongue. He poured another drink into his glass. "Did you find some information about her? Did she discover something?"
Beckett was referring to Vivianne. Earlier, while he was on a break from the photoshoot, Nathan called him. Beckett instructed his people to call him only when it's an emergency, so he quickly answered the call at that time.
Nathan said that there were people attempting to gather information about Beckett. Nathan had direct authority under the other departments as Beckett made him his right-hand man. This included Beckett's trolls.
Some of them were hackers, so it was easy for them to find out if there were people trying to uncover Beckett's identity. As Nathan investigated further, they discovered that it was Vivianne Allamino—Beckett's new stylist. Nathan immediately reported this to him.
"For now, it seems like there's nothing, boss," Nathan shook his head. "All she found out was your name, your college life, and your modeling career."
Beckett sighed in relief. His shoulders relaxed knowing that Vivianne was safe for now. However, just seconds later, Beckett's shoulders tensed again.
Nathan handed Beckett a brown envelope, and he knew what it was.
"This is all the information we gathered about her, boss," Nathan said seriously. "She's Alfred's daughter, and I know we're planning to make a connection with the Allamino family. But I still prepared this in case everything goes haywire."
Beckett closed his eyes for a moment as he tightened his grip on the envelope. When he was ready, he opened it and looked at the contents. As expected, it was about Vivianne's framed death.
Various scenarios were listed there. Car accident, plane crash, targeted by bystanders outside, hit by a stray bullet, and the list goes on. Beckett clicked his tongue as his heart started beating rapidly.
With each reading, he imagined that happening to Vivianne, and a heavy feeling weighed on him.
"Great," Beckett maintained the firmness in his voice. "This will only be a backup. Secure all the information and increase the cartel's security as well. Send James to monitor Vivianne and report any suspicious moves to me."
"Copy, boss."
"Don't do anything about her without my permission." Beckett raised his head, looking intently at Nathan. "Do we understand each other?"
"Yes, Sir."
Nathan was puzzled by Beckett's orders, but he couldn't ask about it. This was the first time Beckett had given such an order. Usually, when someone investigates Beckett and the Dweller Cartel, he orders them to be killed immediately to prevent the problem from escalating.
"You may leave," Beckett said before waving his hand, indicating that Nathan should go. Nathan immediately followed.
Beckett spent the rest of the night drinking. Later, he would have Nathan take him back to the penthouse because he couldn't drive. He had some appointments tomorrow, and Fiona would go berserk if he didn't attend the charity events.
"Ah..." Beckett grumbled. He ran out of alcohol, and he couldn't request for more. He didn't want to work with a hangover.
He had already consumed one bottle, but Vivianne still lingered in his mind. Vivianne should be a tool to him—she was Alfred's sole heir, and he knew that even if Alfred didn't love Vivianne as a daughter, he would protect her as the heir.
They needed to use Vivianne to get what they wanted—the Allamino Corporation's wealth and influence.
That way, he could infiltrate the company. He would find out what his mother really did in the Allamino Corporation and whether his parents' deaths were connected to that company.
The possibility was slim, but he couldn't let it go.
But suddenly, Beckett's heart and mind were in conflict. Whatever happened to his parents, Vivianne had nothing to do with it. Could he bring Vivianne to her death just because she was starting to investigate him?
"Fuck." Beckett ran his fingers through his hair, feeling frustrated because of that tiny, little crack in his heart.
It was because of Vivianne—his sinful attraction towards her. Beckett planned to use her as soon as he met her in the Grand Arena before... but this wasn't part of his plan. Revenge was supposed to be on his mind, but why did Vivianne keep capturing his attention?
The next day, Beckett went to various charity events to volunteer. Some were for pets, the elderly, and children. He didn't have any problems with the first two, although he generally didn't like pets and the elderly.
But he disliked children. He found them stupid and helpless... just like he was when he was a child. Beckett didn't want to revisit that time when he couldn't do anything to save his parents.
At first, he didn't mind that his parents made him live in Italy throughout his life, but now, he realized they might be hiding him from something.
Whoever they were up against, they were surely powerful.
"Shi—" Beckett was about to curse when suddenly someone fell in front of him while he was serving food to the children.
Luckily, he managed to control himself. There were still cameras pointed at him, so he had to be careful. Beckett wanted to groan at the child's fall, but he kept it in his mind for now.
"Are you okay?" Beckett asked as soon as he approached the child. The child was lying face down on the floor and not moving, so he felt a wave of concern. "Are you crying? Did something hurt?"
Beckett turned the child around to face him and nearly turned pale when he saw that the child was bleeding. Blood was flowing from the child's mouth, and the child was struggling to breathe.
"Shit!" Beckett couldn't control his emotions anymore when he saw that the child had been shot in the stomach. "Call the ambulance, Fiona!"
"O-Okay!"
Fiona quickly moved to call an ambulance while Beckett's bodyguards surrounded him. In an instant, the whole event turned chaotic. Reporters started running away while the organizers took their wards inside the house.
Beckett became attentive, too. He looked around to see if the sniper was still there. He was sure that the shot came from a distance because if it were closer, his guards and he would have noticed it.
"Protect the organizers and the children," Beckett ordered his aides. "We don't know if the killer is still here or how many there are. We need to be attentive."
"Yes, Sir," the guards replied.
"I also called the police. They're on their way here," Fiona said fearfully, followed by the arrival of the ambulance for the injured child. "We need to go, Beckett. Your life is in danger here—"
"Go inside the ambulance, Fiona. Make sure that this child is safe," Beckett said before looking at the child. The child was already unconscious but still fighting. It pained his heart. "I'll follow later. Remember my commands."
When the rescue team arrived, they quickly put the child on a stretcher. Beckett, on the other hand, didn't stop surveying the surroundings. He didn't know if he was the killer's target or not.
But one thing is for sure. The killer is still nearby. He just needed to find him.
Beckett stretched his arms and pulled a gun from one of his bodyguards. "I have one gun in the compartment. Use that for now since I'll take this."
"What are you going to do?" Fiona asked. There was a tinge of worry and anger in her voice.
"I'll find him," Beckett answered without hesitation. "If I'm the one he wanted to kill, he'll show himself."
"Beckett—Are you going insane?!" Fiona exclaimed before looking at Beckett. She couldn't believe what she heard. "Your life is my life, and the life of the entire Syneverse! What will I tell the higher-ups if something bad happens to you? They'll kill me!"
Beckett couldn't help but laugh at what he heard. "I will not die, Fiona. I need to kill someone first," he replied meaningfully before Fiona ran off without warning.
Beckett knew where to run. Because this was one of his regular charity events, he knew the ins and outs of the place, and he also knew where would be a good spot to see where the killer was running—to the rooftop.
He ran towards the chapel and climbed up to the top floor. He was alert, holding the gun in both hands. Although he couldn't kill, he had been trained.
There, Beckett saw where the man wearing full-black clothing was running. It was on his right side, so he quickly ran to the rooftop to chase the man. It seemed like the man sensed his presence and started firing.
"Damn bastard," Beckett cursed in frustration before shooting the man in the leg, causing him to lose balance and fall on the rooftop. "Fucking shit."
Beckett quickly went in the direction of the man. He shot him in both arms, causing the man to scream in pain. Beckett straddled him before he spoke.
"You attempted to kill a child, so whatever I do would be an act of self-defense." Beckett clicked his tongue and strangled the man. "Who ordered you to kill?"
"Hah. Do you think you can make me talk—Ack!"
The man screamed again as Beckett pressed his knee against the man's wound. In an instant, Beckett was in killer mode. Anger was evident in his eyes, especially after nearly causing the death of an innocent person.
"Who ordered you to kill?" he asked again, but the man still didn't speak. "Who's your target, is it the child or me?"
The man was about to answer, but he suddenly convulsed as someone shot him with a tranquilizer from a distance. In an instant, the man lost consciousness, causing Beckett to curse in frustration.
"Who the hell—"
Beckett didn't finish what he was saying as he turned around, but instead of a person, a fist greeted him.