Chapter 57 Fifty Seven
OWEN WINTERS
The deal with the Russians went well as planned, but there was another problem… but that wasn't difficult for me to handle.
Lucille Gates.
I sat alone at the bar when the Russians had left, partly drunk, and partly sane. Checking the time on my wrist watch, I decided that I needed to get home earlier so as not to get an earful from Amelia. No, my pumpkin. I chuckled at the thought of her reprimanding me as I stood to leave.
Lucille Gates stood not too far away from me, her innocent look made me sober up a little.
“Did your father invite you over?” I asked but didn't wait for a reply.
“He left not too long ago and the party's over,” I said, trying so hard to stay sober, but then I felt something change in my thinking. I knew Mr Gates drugged my drink, but which kind of drug made me feel hot and in need for sex?
“What do you want? Seems you're not here for a party,” I questioned, feeling my cheeks grow red. She gulped and timidly walked towards me, her hands trembling, and those eyes, they were the only thing that made me not shoot a bullet right through her throat.
I bit my lips in resistance because fuck! The pain was entirely centred on my dick.
Dizziness swept through me, but I needed to hold myself. Lucille touched my shoulders, her trembling hands felt ticklish, but irritation was best for this situation.
It's not her fault. She's just following instructions.
I thought. She gazed into my eyes, and I knew she saw all my bottled up emotions, but that didn't matter at the moment. “That man, your father instructed you to make some rash moves on me, Lucille, but let me warn you, touch me any further, and I swear by the heavens that the last thing you'll see with those eyes are agony,” I threatened and she quickly kept her hands to herself. “Sorry,” she muttered, but I wasn't paying attention to her. I needed to go home to Amy.
No. She didn't need to see how pathetic I looked. I struggled to my feet and walked out, but after a few steps, I turned and glared sharply at the young girl. “Don't tell anyone including your father about this.”
I walked away into the car and straight home.
Amy sat in the living room watching something I couldn't decipher, was it the news?
I staggered into the house and tried to walk past her, but nothing went past her without her knowing or suspecting. Her suspicions about things ranked a whole different level. She stood and walked with quick strides as I collapsed on the floor.
“Did everything with the Russians go well?” She asked, worry laced in her sweet voice, it made me guilty. I shook my head and struggled to get up, but she had me pinned on the floor.
“Are you hurt anywhere? What's wrong? Should I make tea?” I chuckled though my predicament didn't need me to because it hurts all the more.
“Drugged,” I said, barely hearing myself. Her eyes widened in fear. “I'll call the ambulance!”
“No, a different kind of drug,” I gasped and her eyes travelled down to my trousers.
“Oh shit. What can I do?”
I shook my head and finally was able to stand after my third attempt.
“How can I make love to you when I'm intoxicated, I look pathetic, pumpkin,” I said, my fingers rubbing my forehead, but nothing seemed to work.
Amelia stood and wrapped her arms around my waist. “It doesn't matter if you're sick in the head, which you are, intoxicated or a freaking psychopath. I want to help you,” she muttered, her breath meeting with my skin and damn, it made matters worse.
I bit my tongue and sighed in capitulation, and bent to kiss her hair. “I like it when you're doing all the work, my restless pumpkin.”
The evening seemed cold and a storm was likely to come. Amy watched the news while I sat beside her, a book in my hand. My brain couldn't process a sentence, so instead I watched the news with her. She munched on home made cookies after warning her that she had a baby forming in her that needed to be healthy, but she didn't care. The baby craved cookies.
I grinned at the passing thought and liked how we never discussed the drug case after she relieved me of my pains, but she teased me throughout the day, and that was bearable at least.
“A storm might actually come, sweetheart, and I need more cookies,” she said and this time, I laughed.
“Go get it yourself,” I joked and pretended to read. Amy sulked, she looked like a puppy, but cuter. “I'm pregnant and the baby demands daddy get me more cookies or we'll leave the house and…”
“Okay, anything for the baby,” I said and stood when a particular news caught my fancy.
THERE WOULD BE A STRUGGLE FOR POWER AS MR WINTERS HAS REVEALED HE HAS A LEGAL SON!
You know that feeling when it looked like your whole world had shattered before your eyes, everything you built and all those years of sweat gone. That feeling that you were never good enough and no matter how you tried, you never reached their high expectations.
I froze, my eyes glued to the TV and my feet heavy that my muscles started to pull.
Then panic settled in, I picked up my phone and scrolled through the news.
“THIS COMES AS A SHOCK AS MR WINTERS REVEALS THAT HE HAD A SON IN HIDING…”
“THE ILLEGITIMATE SON ISN'T THE ONLY HEIR TO THE HOUSE OF THE WINTERS”
Illegitimate.
I kept scrolling, my eyes began to blur and my head ached badly. Maybe I was cursed.
“THE REAL SON OF THE WINTERS IS BACK IN PARIS…”
Real son?
I scoffed. This wasn't meant to happen and there was every possibility that all these were just baseless rumours. I dialled father's line, and he didn't pick.
I rang it again, rage engulfing my entirety.
“Answer the fucking call you bastard!” I cursed, my breathing increased and my heart raced. He answered on the third ring.
“Father is it…”
“It's true.” He said.
My heart shattered into different pieces as the phone slipped from my loose hold and shattered as it hit the floor.
Fuck.