Lucas Pov
"Watch where you're going!" a teenager yells at my driver Carlo when he almost knocks him off his bike.
I eyed him. My jaw ticked, framed by a thin line creased between my brows. Can he go any faster than this... this snail race.
The meeting with Amando Chan is in an hour, how on earth do we get there on time with this traffic? My fingers involuntarily drummed on my thigh.
This deal is very important, not getting it will mean a waste of my precious time and energy. The money to buy is not a problem, but the profit that will be forfeited.
That won't happen.
With all that has happened over the years, the last time I could remember being this worried was two years ago, when all my attempts to achieve a quest failed, but that is a story for another day.
The honking sound of cars, the chatter of the passerby, and the love birds holding hands and giggling to each other made my stomach churn.
Staring at my phone for the umpteenth time, there was no message…no calls. Just a blank screen staring back at me. The sound of a sharp hiss echoed in the quiet car. Fuck!
"Hurry up Carlo, I'm running out of time! We need to get there before him." I snapped, with a voice laced with irritation, before tossing the phone on the seat beside me, as if it were the cause of my problem.
"Yes, boss!"
The car came to an abrupt halt, and the word "Rosa's Cafe" flashed before my eyes. The location of this place is exquisite, not for the building per se, but for the surroundings. The ocean view is soothing.
I walked gracefully towards the entrance, both hands in my pockets. The dark shades accentuated my overall appearance, giving me a bad boy vibe.
I've always liked it.
The place seems busy, people going in and out like a playground. It's nothing new, just a normal dinner. So I thought.
The faint sound of a phone ping snapped my attention away from the entrance. If I wasn't expecting a call or a message, whatever this is, either a message or notification would have been left unattended like the dirty clothes in the laundry basket, but no…
Not today.
Reaching for my suit pocket and pulling it out, my eyes scanned the text as it flashed on the screen. "I'm stuck in traffic, bear with me." it reads.
This fucker!
The scoffs that left my lips were unplanned, so much for the rush. Maybe chilling and having a drink or two would calm me down. The phone was placed back where it was.
Before my hand could move towards the doorbell, Carlos beat me to it. Are such annoying things still needed in this day and age?…this unnecessary crap? I sighed, using my neat long finger as I massaged my temple in exhaustion.
I have not rested since yesterday, not to mention sleeping last night. This has been my life since…Nevermind.
The place is ample, more eye-catching than the outside. Sculptures are mounted at every corner of the hall, while old paintings decorate the walls. High-end glimmering chandeliers hung effortlessly in the air.
The smell of freshly brewed coffee and another smell, like pancakes swept into my nostrils.
That smell.
I can't place my hands on it, but it seems familiar. Although all my attention was focused on the phone that was recently pulled out from my trousers, it rang.
The moment I took my eyes off the screen for a few seconds and my eyes locked with the woman in front of me, the room stood still. The phone was forgotten.
"What's this? A trick, A Twin?"
Is this my wife? My dead wife!
Standing in front of the counter, cleaning coffee mugs. As our eyes met each other, she became shocked and stiff as well for a mere second, but regained her composure almost immediately. Giving me a beaming smile. Like nothing ever happened.
Not wanting to give myself away, my legs strode on their own to the seat at the far corner of the room. It appears to be the only empty table as of now. Customers chatted and laughed with her, as she took their orders.
"It's her laugh, it has to be her."
Sitting quietly, I watched her. My heart drummed like a war gong. The weather was a bit cold, but sweat trickled down my forehead. My shaky hand reached for my jacket pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, wiping the sweat off. Then my head started to ache excruciatingly.
Uncomfortable was an understatement. I felt lost. The scar at her wrist, grey eyes, and auburn hair, though it's longer and fuller. But she couldn't recognize me. I could tell from the way she looked at me, like I wasn't the man she once loved with her whole being.
(Flashback)
Staring at the phone in my hands, the once beautiful scenery and atmosphere looking at my hotel room changed in that instant. The video came at exactly 8:30pm.
"What the fuck is this?"
Me naked in bed with Vivian, as her slender hands roamed my chest. She stopped and shifted closer, licking behind my ear, down to my chin, then transferred to my lips as I kissed her with the same fervent urgency.
"You taste so good, baby." She hummed, as her tongue swept across her lower lips, licking them like an ice cream cone.
But the shocking part of it all is that the man lying next to her has my body built, the same dragon tattoo on the right hand side of my arm down to my wrist, the red rose tattoo positioned at the left hand side of my chest and the black mole close to my torso.
But this isn't me.
Even as the video is a bit blurry. Every action, and every move can be mistaken by another who sees this, not me though.
Alina has always known that I'm not in love with her, and no time passes by without letting her know. But I haven't touched Vivian since I got married to Alina and not to mention being in Manhattan for a business trip at the moment.
The person given the job to create such a convincing video must be a genius. Everything appears as real as daylight. Nobody could deny its contents.
A day passed and then two, and nothing was heard from Alina.
No calls.
No text.
Just silence.
Unlike her who calls every damn time whenever I'm away for a business meeting. Understanding fully well she wouldn't get a response, but that has never deterred her actions.
The sound of my other phone rang, making me flinch for a split second. The fuck! Curse of annoyance leaving my mouth involuntarily. As the stroll to the bedside table felt like a disturbance, I momentarily felt exhausted with what I had just watched on my screen a few minutes ago.
"Yes!"
"Mrs Alina is dead." a sobbing voice of my housekeeper Mrs Grace echoed through the other end of the phone.
If this is a joke, it isn't funny. It's been just two days since this trip. Alina wasn't sick, either as she wasn't exposed to any kind of danger. I made sure of that. So what's this? My hands grabbed the phone, almost crumpling it in the process.
Blood boiling in my veins, the thick crease on my forehead frowning deep into my hairline.
"Lucas, are you there?" Nanny Grace asked.
"Hold on Nanny, let me call back." She's the only one who calls me by my name, no one dares to do that, otherwise that person will be properly dealt with.
Dialing a familiar number. My teeth gnashed as though it was about to crack into pieces. "Get the jet ready, we're going home."
"Yes, boss." Carlos's baritone voice sounded briefly.
The trip was as uncomfortable as it was slow. The TV spread the news of her accident like wildfire. Giving everyone the chance to make a horrible remark about her. Only a few people were sympathetic.
Some say she ran away with a man, faking her death.
Others said it was an accident.
Either news, she's nowhere to be seen. The police said they tried their best, but couldn't find a body. The car was smashed badly on the passenger's side of the car.
For two years, I searched without any leads and decided to let her spirit rest by accepting and grieving silently.
(Flashback Ends)
"Should I tell her about me, about our past?"
"What if she doesn't believe me?"
My inner turmoil wrestled with me like a formidable opponent. Just then she approached me with a notepad in hand and a polite smile.
"Welcome to Rosa's, can I get you something?"
Up close, she's thinner, and still no recognition in her beautiful grey eyes. It's still… her though. The same tiny freckle near her lips, the way she tilts her head. A light sharp cough left my lips to clear my throat.
"Black coffee, no sugar please."
"Name for the order?" she asked. Her pen was jotting away with ease.
The pause was unintentional, but it happened. Finding out how she's still alive would be my new mission. Telling her who I am would ruin everything all over again.
"Steven, Steven Hale." My voice came out firmly, as I stared deeply at her face.
She writes it down without flinching. " Coming right up"
As she walks away from me, a numbing feeling envelops my body. "What happened to her, how did she not recognize me?"
Just then she returns with the coffee. "Here you go, Steven."
"Thanks." The reply came out casually.
I was expecting her to leave, but she lingered a bit. Her brows pinched and puzzled.
"Sorry, this might sound strange" she hesitated for a second, studying my face.
"You look like someone I used to know… but I can't remember who."