Roan
After an half an hour of her scolding Selene and her parents, I finally manage to convince my mother to go home, her worried eyes lingering on me as she finally leaves.
I try to focus on the document in front of me, but the words blur together, refusing to make sense. Frustrated, I decide to head home and continue working there. I pack up my things and leave the office.
As I walk past my secretary, Conrad, he stands up and asks, "Sir, do you need anything?"
"No, you can have an early night," I reply, heading towards the elevator. Just before the doors close, I remember the pictures on my desk. "Get rid of the pictures on the desk for me," I say.
"Yes, sir," Conrad responds, his voice steady.
The elevator descends to the underground parking, where my car is already waiting. The security guard opens the door for me, and I slide into the back seat, my aura cold and oppressive.
The driver doesn't need instructions; he knows to take me to the penthouse, just five minutes away from the office. It's where I stay during the week, a place where I should have been sharing with Sunny.
Once home, I eat a quick dinner and take a shower. The hot water does little to wash away the tension. On my bedside table is a framed picture of Sunny and me at the beach. I remember that day vividly—it was the day of our first kiss. She had hung her head shyly, the wind blowing her hair around her face.
I smile at the memory, but it fades when I recall Selene running past us, screaming about a bumblebee. The smile vanishes, replaced by a scowl. I turn the picture face down and take out the contract I was reading before my mother interrupted me.
As I flip through the pages, I notice a corner of a photo sticking out. I pull it out and see that it's one of the pictures my mother had scattered on my desk. It's of Selene, getting into that coffee shop owner's car, her lips pouting as she blows a kiss at the camera, mocking me. I sneer and rip the picture in half, tossing it into the trash.
My eyes begin to hurt from the strain. I put away the papers and take out my other phone. I unlock it and open my chat with Sunny. It's a one-sided conversation, the last message from her six weeks ago, saying she was leaving. I type, "I miss you. Please call me," before putting the phone away and falling into a restless sleep.
I rarely dream, but when I do, it's often about Sunny. Tonight, however, the dream is different. I am hugging Sunny in my bedroom at the seaside villa, holding her tightly. My gaze is fixed on a space in the room as if someone is there.
Suddenly, I hear Selene's voice, soft and insistent, calling my name like she used to when she wanted to get in my good graces before the wedding. I try to ignore it, but she calls again and again, her voice becoming more erratic. Annoyed, I let go of Sunny and walk towards the window, asking, "Don't mess with me. Where are you?"
I am suddenly pushed out of the window, falling into the darkness. When I land, I can't see anything, but I hear Selene's evil laughter in the distance. A breeze sweeps past me, and she whispers in my ear, "I will make you pay for everything husband."
I wake up with a start, staring at the ceiling with a blank expression. It's only two in the morning. I can't understand what sort of dream this is. When have I ever wronged her? She had wronged me so shouldn't I be the one to say those words?
It was a stupid dream but I find it impossible to fall back asleep afterwards. I toss and turn for hours before finally giving up and deciding to start my day early. I run on the treadmill, my annoyance fuelling my pace. Selene has not only ruined my life but is now messing with my sleep.
When I step into the office, the dark circles under my eyes are a testament to my sleepless night. But I push through, diving straight into my work, determined not to let her win.
Around ten a.m., after a gruelling meeting with the heads of department, I return to my office, feeling the weight of the morning's discussions pressing down on me. I settle into my chair, ready to dive into the mountain of work awaiting me. But just as I open my laptop, there is a knock at the door.
"Come in," I say, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.
Conrad steps in, seeming a little hesitant. "Sir, there is someone from the marriage register office here to see you."
I groan inwardly. This is the last thing I need right now. "Tell them to make an appointment for tomorrow," I reply, hoping to buy myself some time.
Conrad hesitates. "They said to inform you that they were sent by the Chairman."
I sigh, knowing that my grandfather had probably orchestrated this. "Let them in," I say, resigned to dealing with this now rather than later.
"Yes, sir," Conrad responds, disappearing to fetch the visitor.
I rub my temples, feeling a headache coming on. The sooner we resolve this issue and annul this marriage, the better. I don't have the time or energy to deal with this, but I know it needs to be done.
A moment later, the door opens again and an elderly woman dressed in a riot of colours steps in. Her outfit is a kaleidoscope of patterns, and her neon pink glasses are the final touch in what looks like a rainbow explosion.
I blink, momentarily taken aback by the sheer brightness of her appearance. It's not every day you see someone who looks like they have stepped out of a carnival.
I stand up and extend my hand. "You must be Mr. Kingsley," she says with a broad smile. "I am Mrs. Wade, but you can call me Durleigh."
"Nice to meet you, Durleigh. You can call me Roan," I reply, leading her to the couch. "Tea or coffee?" I ask as I sit down opposite her.
"Chamomile tea, please," she says, still smiling brightly. I glance at Conrad, who nods and leaves the room to fetch the tea.
Durleigh leans back, her demeanour relaxed and friendly. "I have been briefed on your case, and I am here to help. I take it that the madam is in her office? I heard you work together."
I stiffen slightly at the mention of Selene. "We used to work in the same building before the marriage, but not since the wedding. She has returned to her company."
Durleigh's smile doesn't falter, even as she registers my silence. Conrad returns with a tray, pouring out the steaming tea from a white teapot before making his exit. Durleigh takes a sip and compliments the tea. "Lovely," she says, setting the cup down. "We will need to reschedule this meeting for tonight then. We can meet at your marital home."
I suppress a sigh. I am not living with Selene, nor did I bother to find out where she is staying. But I know I have to contact her. "Sure, I will inform her," I say, trying to keep my tone neutral.
Durleigh looks pleased. "The hundred days before annulment will begin after the first meeting with the both of you. My job is to ensure that you two work out your differences and hopefully stay together in marital bliss. But if it doesn't work out, we can proceed with the annulment, and it will be as though this marriage never happened."
I laugh internally at the thought of living in marital bliss with Selene. It's a joke, really. "Understood," I say, keeping my thoughts to myself.
Durleigh finishes her tea and stands up. "Thank you for your time, Roan. I will see you tonight. Let's say around six p.m."
I nod, watching as she leaves the office, her colourful outfit a stark contrast to the muted tones of my surroundings. As the door closes behind her, I lean back in my chair, feeling the weight of the situation settle over me. Tonight is going to be a headache, to say the least.
I call Conrad back into the office. He enters promptly, his expression attentive. "Yes, sir?"
"Call Selene and let her know she should come to the penthouse around five p.m. for the meeting with the marriage registrar's office," I instructed, trying to keep my frustration in check.
"Yes, sir," Conrad replies, and he walks out to make the call. I try to focus on my work, but after ten minutes he returns, looking slightly uneasy.
"Sir, my number is blocked by the madam," he says, his voice hesitant.
I sigh, feeling a headache coming on. "Then try another number."
Conrad nods, but his hesitation is palpable. "I tried using the office number and the junior secretary's as well, but they are all blocked."
I purse my lips, realising I don't have her number saved in my phone. I never intended to save it in the first place. "Let me have her number," I say, rubbing my forehead.
Conrad quickly sends me the number, and I dial it. The phone rings twice before a familiar voice, one that haunted my dreams last night, answers. My Adam's apple bobs as I swallow. "It's me," I say, but the call is abruptly cut off.
I stare at the phone in disbelief. "Did she just hang up on me?" I mutter, more to myself than to Conrad.
Conrad's brow arches slightly. "Maybe the network was bad," he suggests diplomatically.
I call again, but this time I am met with a mechanical female voice saying, "The number you have dialled is not available at the moment. Please try again later."
I snort, leaning back in my chair. "Unbelievable," I mutter. Selene is proving to be more difficult than I anticipated. This is going to be a long day.
Selene
Two days had passed since I was kicked out of my apartment. My office was now serving two purposes for the time being.
While scrolling through the main database on my monitor, June walks in her face with a mask of concern. "Selene, one of our clients, Lulu Games, just informed us they want to terminate their contract."
I look up from my desk, my expression calm. "Don't worry about it," I reply while offering her a reassuring smile.
There was no need to ask why a long-time client would just drop us like that. My parents obviously had a hand in it. This is how they were choosing to retaliate against me. It was to run my small company to the ground.
"We have other means to keep the company running. I will handle it later."
June nods, visibly relieved, and leaves the room. I turn back to my computer, my fingers flying over the keyboard as I search through criminal records. I am still looking for the prick. I can't wait to crush him under my foot like an ant.
My phone rings, breaking my concentration. I glance at the unsaved number, expecting it to be the private detective I asked Kirk to find for me. "Hello," I say, my voice steady.
There is a pause before a familiar voice says, "It's me."
My brows furrow as I recognise Roan's voice. I had already deleted his number and couldn't recognise it by head. Without a second thought, I cut the call and blocked his number. I don't have time for his games. I take a deep breath and refocus on my task, determined not to let anything distract me.