Chapter 137 Chapter 137

Chapter 137 Chapter 137
The chancellor returned to earth. Gaze falling from the ceiling as the imagined bird was free to roam without an audience. Ian pouted, his thin lips pushing through the bristles of his ivory beard. It seemed the old man had made a habit of feasting on gossip. Yet, he relented, nodding gracefully to the little man in his fancy suit.
“Of course, Mr. Daniel.”
He rummaged through his robe, fishing up a yellow lollipop from his pocket. It did not possess a wrapper. He popped the bright sphere into his mouth, sending a wink Ravi’s way before strolling out, hands folding behind his back. When the door slammed shut, the suited man demanded the rugby lad’s attention with another polite cough. 
“Now, as that’s sorted. Let’s get down to business. Do you know how long we have been looking for you, Mr Baldwin?”
Ravi twisted in his chair. The hard oak creaked, the chair tilting on its short leg. “Ehm, no, sir.”
At least this Daniel fellow didn’t wince every time he talked anymore. That had to be progress.
“Since you turned eighteen, which would make it three years.”
“Oh. That’s a long time.”
“Yes, Mr Baldwin. Yes, it is.” 
He could sense frustration eddying beneath the polished surface. Daniel must have spent years scouring the UK in an attempt to track him down. Ravi saw no reason why the task would be difficult, and saw even less reason for it to take three years. After all, there had to be some sort of paper trail of him being placed with his relatives, of him starting at Harvard. It was clear Mr. Daniel was a man taking pride in excellence. His straight stance and high chin made it blatantly obvious that he carried on his slim shoulders. This man was not lazy or dumb-witted. There was cold intelligence in those pale eyes as well as a determination that bordered on cutthroat. If he said he’d tried to find Ravi for three years, he would have moved heaven and earth to do just so.
So what had stopped Mr. Daniel from finding him? How had Ravi managed to disappear so completely? He suspected a certain Luigi Krauser.
“You know of me. But who are you?” He was forgetting to be nervous, curiosity taking the upper hand. Ravi could swear his pulse was beating in the back of his eyeballs. 
The smile the stout man gave him was frankly terrifying. Slow and wide, stretching past what could be considered normal. His teeth were pearly white, but there was something pointy about them, like the gap of a piranha. Ravi told himself to be polite and not stare. It would not do to make this suited man his enemy – he doubted he’d survive it. 
“My name is Daniel, and I work at Heritage, one of the finest banks in the UK. I’m here to talk to you about your inheritance.”
Ravi almost swallowed his tongue. “My what?”
It should not be possible, but the short man’s smile grew wider yet. “Your inheritance, left from your mother, Lily Baldwin, and your father, James Baldwin. Would that be alright, Mr Baldwin?”
A beat, then the tall lad nodded, hands squeezing his legs so hard, his femurs might snap. The short man did not wait. With a smile still in place, he started talking.

Playing rugby was a relief. It was the one thing successfully taking him out of his own head, thoughts hopelessly tangled in what Daniel had told him. 
His family had been rich. Perhaps not private-jet-and-giant-mansion-rich, but they had been a far cry from a two-storey house in Surrey. If he wanted, he could quit university right now, buy a car, and drive into the sunset. The knowledge untethered him, left him adrift on an all too vast sea. There was also the prickling fear that an unknown number would call his phone. The stranger on the other side informed him there had been a mistake. The money Daniel had proclaimed belonged to the other Ravi Baldwin bloke with dead parents. 
Better to put it out of his mind, better to play rugger. 
Practice had been easy, the summer-winds cooling their sweat-slicked skin as they’d played until the shadows grew long. After tomorrow's game, the season would officially be over. Though Coach had made sure they knew a season wrap did not mean slacking off. 
Right now (Coach had said), they were riding a wave of success, but the only way to tell if they were a fluke or the real deal was if they kept performing. Kept showing up to games with the mindset to win. 
So there would be no ‘taking it easy’ during summer break. 
“It is in the summer that rugby players are made. If you come back deflated with a hangover from partying too much…” At this, some blokes in the team had snickered. Thomas had zeroed in on them, something furiously burning in those dark orbs “...you’re not only failing yourself, but your teammates .” 
There was no more snickering.
The silence had lain heavy and charged. Then Captain Theo had hollered something about how that worked both ways, you old dog, and Coach’s eyes had lost some of that hard edge as he’d stepped forward to ruffle Theo’s hair. The other lads had chimed in, barking excessively as Coach had made a lap around the room, air-boxing and slapping their backs. 
The hard shell of leathered aloofness was stripped as Coach put a knuckle to his eye, rubbing angrily. 
“Now you lads get out of my sight.” Adding quieter. “Best goddamn team I’ve ever had.”
They filtered into the shower. Ravi had yet another wound on his knee, grass strands sticking into the flesh and a trickle of red oozing from the scrape. It was difficult to clean it; the strands may have grown roots reaching his very bones. But Sebastian swooped in, telling him to put his foot to the wall, elevating the leg at a bent angle. Ravi obeyed, wincing as the wound cracked open, like a stubborn oyster if you exchanged its baby-pink insides for angry-crimson. At least it made it easy to get the grass out. Ravi slapped Sebastian's fuzzing hands away and did it himself, biting his lower lip at the sting as he cleaned the wound good and proper.