"I'm very sure Brian knows about the hard drug stuff, but I'm also having a doubtful mind. What if it is Richard or Edward?" Irene sighed heavily, her voice thick with uncertainty. "It's easy to be with any of them, but I don't want to choose the wrong person."
"Let's just choose Brian," Justin said with a mischievous grin. "He's more handsome, rich, and has more connections than the others."
"And you should try getting on Raphael's good books," Esmeralda added with a serious tone, her expression stiffening.
"That's a must though. It's just beginning but I'm already tired," Irene said, slumping into the chair like the weight of the mission was already pressing on her shoulders.
"The man is quite dangerous. Everyone sent to him for the past five years has not been found till today," Esmeralda added, a chill running down her spine as goosebumps rose on her arms.
"If not for the secret message from our last comrade sent, we wouldn't have known Raphael is part of this drug syndicate," Irene said quietly, her face growing grim, eyes clouded with tension.
She picked up her phone and browsed through Instagram, her fingers moving sluggishly, frustration clear on her beautiful but tense face. "Why is there no news of the birthday party?"
"Nothing from the party is posted online. It's a secret birthday party," Justin replied, his tone calm but laced with suspicion.
"Ohkay," Irene murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, as if resigning to the inevitable.
"Do you remember everything in the report Brian and Raphael will get?"
"Yes, I was a drug addict in high school, right?"
"Left," Justin joked, winking playfully to lighten the mood.
"So what's next?" Esmeralda asked, sitting up straighter, her eyes filled with anticipation.
"Wait for the Black siblings to take their next step," Irene said flatly, still staring at her phone screen like it held all the answers.
Esmeralda groaned, clearly unimpressed. "We can't just wait, we need to do something."
"One wrong move and we are gone. It's better to take time than take our lives," Irene said calmly, but the intensity in her eyes told them she was deadly serious.
"All this is about who you want to choose to be with," Justin teased, pointing directly at Irene.
"I'm thinking of being with Raphael," Irene said jokingly as she stood and stretched, feigning lightness but sounding exhausted.
"If he's a womanizer, it could have been the best option, don't you think?" Esmeralda looked up at her with an amused glint.
"No matter who I choose to be with, I have to be close to Raphael. That's the plan," she paused at the door, her tone dropping. "I'm going to sleep."
"Okay, dream of me," Justin called out with a smirk.
"It's too early to sleep," Esmeralda muttered, watching Irene disappear down the hallway. "Don't wake up and start disturbing me in the middle of the night."
No response came—only the loud, sudden slam of Irene's door.
Esmeralda flinched. "Sometimes she just acts like a mentally ill patient," she said under her breath, throwing Justin a long, dramatic look.
Justin just smiled, shaking his head in amusement.
—
A Bar somewhere in City X
"Do you know your daughter, Irene, was a drug addict in high school?" Raphael asked, his tone surprisingly casual as he watched Roland closely.
Roland's face drained of color, his eyes widening in shock. "What? How? I don't know anything about that, how did you know that?" His voice cracked, disbelief flooding his words as he struggled to process the revelation.
Raphael let out a low chuckle, amused by the reaction. "My sons are interested in your daughter," he said, leaning back in his chair with a slight smile curling at the edges of his lips. "So, I decided to run a background check on her. You know, we need to be sure of things—not for anything, just to know something, just in case." He took a slow sip of his drink, as if enjoying the discomfort in the air. "That's how I stumbled upon that little nugget of information."
Roland sat frozen, his mind racing to catch up with the news. "I'm a little surprised by this," he muttered, his voice trembling. "I know she's troublesome, always causing trouble, but drugs? I can't take it." The words felt like a punch in the gut, and he clenched his jaw, trying to control the whirlwind of emotions inside him.
Raphael's eyes bore into Roland, his tone probing. "Are you saying you don't know this about your own daughter?"
The question hit Roland like a slap in the face. His heart sank, and for a moment, he couldn't speak. "If I did, I wouldn't be surprised, would I?" Roland's voice cracked, disappointment and guilt washing over him in a flood of regret. He had failed her, and he knew it.
Raphael raised an eyebrow, as if contemplating something. "Maybe the report is wrong?" His voice was soft, but it wasn't really a question—he was just toying with Roland.
Roland shook his head, his gaze dropping to his hands in his lap. "Probably, but that shouldn't be the case. I never knew such a thing about my own daughter…" His voice trailed off, filled with sorrow and a deep sense of helplessness.
Raphael leaned forward slightly, his tone shifting to something more businesslike. "Where's your daughter now?"
Roland blinked, his mind still clouded by the revelation. "Ever since her friends came, she's been staying with them." His voice was distant, distracted. He couldn't focus on anything else right now.
Raphael, as if unaffected by the tension, smiled and adjusted his glasses. "The business deal you mentioned? I read through the proposal—it's really profitable."
Roland glanced at him, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Can I still be in the mood for that?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief, as if the weight of the conversation had crushed any remaining focus he had. How could he think about business when his daughter was spiraling out of control?
Raphael gave a soft, dismissive chuckle. "We make money to make our family hold," he said, as though it was the simplest thing in the world, pushing his glasses up in a calculated manner.
Roland let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping under the weight of everything. "We'll talk about that later," he said softly, taking a slow sip from his glass of wine. The glass didn't provide any comfort. He barely noticed the taste, too consumed by the turmoil inside.
---
At Home:
Roland returned home later that evening, his steps heavy, and his heart even heavier. He slumped onto the couch in the living room, trying to block out the flood of thoughts swirling in his mind.
Rosalyn, ever the attentive wife, entered the room with a bright smile, but it faltered when she saw his expression. "You're home early?" she asked, her voice soft and concerned. "Hope, no problem?" She moved closer, studying him, sensing something wasn't right.
When Roland didn't answer immediately, she raised an eyebrow, worry creeping into her features. "Why are you in a bad mood? Is something wrong?" Her voice softened as she leaned in, eyes searching his face for any sign of what was bothering him.
Roland looked at her, the guilt, frustration, and sorrow thick in his chest. He reached out, grabbing her hands gently, pulling her to sit beside him. His eyes were glazed with unshed tears, the weight of the day pressing down on him like a ton of bricks.
"I'm sorry, for everything I've done to you," he whispered, his voice barely a breath. The words were slow, heavy with meaning. "I know this apology isn't enough to make up for all my wrongdoings, but…" He paused, choking on his words, his chest tight with emotion. He had failed as a father and as a husband. "But…" He stopped, and gave a deep sigh, his face twisting in pain.
Rosalyn could see the anguish in his eyes, the cracks in his hardened exterior. She shifted closer to him, her hand resting on his, offering silent support, not pushing him for more words, just being there.
"What's wrong? You're scaring me," Rosalyn said, her voice trembling with worry as she stepped closer to Roland, concern clouding her features.
Roland's chest tightened. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and his voice cracked when he spoke. "I failed as a lover, as a father, and as a husband." He paused, fighting to keep his emotions in check, but the weight of his words hung heavily in the air. His hands shook slightly as he reached for her.
Rosalyn's brow furrowed, her heart aching at his words. "Whatever is going on, just tell me and stop scaring me," she urged, her voice rising slightly, desperation creeping in. She needed him to open up—needed to know what was happening.
Roland let out a deep sigh, his mind clouded with guilt. "I went to see Raphael today about the project our companies are working on." He stopped, his throat tightening, struggling to speak. "He told me he ran a background check on Irene and…" His voice faltered, and he couldn't bring himself to say more.
"What did he say? And what right does he have to run a background check on your daughter?" Rosalyn said