THE BLOW

I give him a deadly glare. He is enjoying playing the jerk, and this early morning? I can't handle it. I simply have a lot on my mind and am wise enough to entertain him. "For someone who is on their way to work, you are being quite dirty. You don't want to enter your workplace with a bulge in your pants that will draw everyone's attention to it, do you?"


"Not when you can calm that beast in a flash, and I will walk into my office feeling so fresh."

Unbelievable! Arguing with him is useless. "Mr. Almeda, get your ass up, and let's go already," I mumble, standing up.

"To the couch, or my bedroom, or should I follow you to the kitchen? Wait, we haven't tried your room, or just here."


He is just so impossibly annoying when he turns on this mood, goodness! "To your car, you jerk!" I mutter.

"The car, huh! Have you ever tried that?"


Goodness, gracious! Is he possessed or what? Yeah! Sometimes he acts like he is possessed, like now. "I will just take this to the kitchen. I better find your annoying ass outside when I come out of that kitchen." I order.

I collect the utensils and toss them in the tray alongside the remaining cake, and I don't dare look back at that sin beckoning me from behind.

Gosh!

Just a few hours ago, he was hoarsely groaning my name in this kitchen, and now he wants more? Oops! The secret just slipped out! We had a romantic moment in this kitchenette last night as we waited for the cake to bake, and the stench was still very pungent. The memories are giving me tickles. Oh, my, oh! What did this do to me exactly?

I exit the kitchen feeling like a teenager and locking the memories close to my heart. I'm not leaving them behind.

I sneak a glimpse at the table, and when I don't see him perched where I left him, I realize that I have some time to gather myself before he notices that I have a sexy smirk on my face. I exit and bump into him, who is staring at me from the doorway. I think I didn't cover up the blush fast enough. Sigh! I leave his home and rob him of both my car keys and the extra set for this residence.

I am relieved that he doesn't inquire about anything, and I reckon that he has kicked his seducing side aside. Along with these mind-clogging memories of the two times we've slept together, I can't handle that either. For my dark side, that will be too much.

I stride to my car and get in, ignite the engine, and drive towards his gate. I park outside and wait for him, and he doesn't take long. After a minute, his Lamborghini parks beside my Porsche on the left.

We both lower our door mirrors, peeking at each other through the openings.

"Bye, Damian!" I mutter, and he winks with a smirk—the gestures I find him accustomed to.

"See you around, Ellie Marrie!"

Mmh. The first time he is muttering my name in full. We both grin broadly at each other as we pull off, with him taking the north direction and me taking the south. We part ways, but I can see him peering at me through the side mirrors just as I am doing until our cars are out of our eyesight. I concentrate on the road, but I am still waiting to meet him later today. It's just a matter of hours, but I am still so enthusiastic about it.

I drive through the gate to my condo, park outside in the parking lot, and emerge in the spirit of fresh starts. I can't help but smile as I put on my sunglasses and march to the lift. The sun seems to be grinning at me. I enter the elevator in high spirits, and I don't give a damn what these other two passengers think of me. Although they remain mute, I can see them occasionally sneaking glances at me. They don't bother me at all. They are merely utilizing their terrible eyes.

We step out together on the last floor, and I don't spare them a glance as I walk to my door.

I lock the door behind me and pause to take in the invigorating, calming aura. It is thrilling and revitalizing. I know I am going to enjoy my time here, but not just yet. I can't fold my arms and rest before these bank morons explain just what the fuck was wrong with my cards.

Still unwilling to turn on my phone, I grab the table-top telephone and dial their number.

A man's voice speaks after a decade of me pacing back and forth while waiting in line.

"Good morning, and thank you for calling Etiq Bank Limited. How may I help you?"

"Good morning. This is Ellie Marrie Riccaford speaking, and I have questions regarding my cards," I state.

"Okay, miss Riccaford. What's it with your cards that you want to know?" He asks in a raspy voice.

"I tried using both my credit and debit cards last night, but they read totally zero balances. I want to know what the problem is." I respond.

"I'm so sorry about that, miss. Kindly, give me both your card details, and I'll check what the problem is."

I narrate the details and wait in line for another long moment filled with fear and tension. I'm finding myself pacing back and forth again, but his voice halts my movement.

"Miss Riccaford? Are you still there?"

"Yes. Have you resolved the problem? What had happened?" I rant anxiously.

"I am sorry, miss, but your cards are indeed empty!"

What? "Pardon?" I ask, unbelieving his words. What is wrong with these people, anyway, huh? My cards can never be empty.

"Yes, miss. It seems like your cards are frozen."

Shit!

I am almost crumbling to the floor because of the weakness in my knees. What on earth!

"When? I haven't withdrawn any dime from my accounts, and the last transaction was about four days ago when I made a direct transfer to a certain agency for my new house. When were my accounts frozen? And by whom? Nobody has the credentials of my ATMs," I state.

"Your balances were frozen the next day after that transaction, miss, by someone I presume to be your father - Richard Bradley Riccaford!"

. Hell has just broken loose!

I see darkness for a moment. My hands become too weak to hold the phone to my ears. It falls to the ground while I drop to the settee before I join it to the floor too.

What the heck?

My father? He really is a brandy! How dare he? So he knows where I am?