Meera
After smuggling myself out Dimitri's questioning at my house, I drove to work. Work was unusually quiet, the kind of silence that feels like it's hiding something. Still, I was in good spirits. My coworker and I had just landed a big contract, and I couldn't stop smiling. It felt nice to win again, to feel like everything was finally steady again.
I left the office around two, already imagining my bed swallowing me whole. A long nap, no men, no nonsense, that was the plan. But of course, life had other ideas. As I parked in front of my house, my heart almost stopped. There, sitting perfectly centered on my doorstep, was a small, neatly wrapped package. Red paper, black ribbon. Elegant. Expensive-looking. I stood there for a full minute, staring at it. Curiosity eventually won. I picked it up and tore it open. Inside, was a single crimson rose and a card saying "I know you're not one for second chances, but I'd love to talk. xx"
My stomach twisted. Adrian. It had to be. I've been ghosting him. That man couldn't take a hint. I marched straight to the kitchen and dumped both the rose and the card into the trash. Out of sight, out of mind. But for some reason… I didn't take my hand off the bin right away. Something about the handwriting, smooth, elegant, didn't feel like Adrian's. It felt colder. We talked for over two months and I'm sure of certain things about him. I shrugged it off. My brain was probably still thawing from that night in the snow. That guy.
Minutes later, the doorbell rang. I checked the camera and saw the estate manager, Mr. Joe. Great. Maybe this was about that leaky faucet in the hallway. "Afternoon, Mr. Joe," I said, stepping aside to let him in.
He smiled politely, but it was the kind of smile that doesn't reach the eyes. "Miss Meera, I'll get straight to the point. Mr. Alaric has decided to sell the estate.". He said, escaping the means of looking at me.
My blood ran cold. "Sell the estate? As in, everyone has to move out?"
"I'm afraid so. You'll be fully refunded, with interest. But, uh… we'll need everyone out by next weekend."
"Next weekend?" I laughed loud and humorless. "Are you kidding me? Where am I supposed to go?"
He looked everywhere but my face. "It wasn't my decision. It's actually the new owner's. Mr. Alaric's son."
I froze. "His son? He has a son?"
"Yes, Tobias Moretti. He recently returned from London to take over operations." He cleared his throat, clearly wanting to bolt. "Again, I'm sorry for the short notice, Miss Meera. Truly." And just like that, he was gone, leaving me standing in the middle of my living room, holding onto the last bit of stability I had left.
I'm not the kind of person to rush things, I'm very calculated.
An hour later, I was knocking on Mrs. Walker's door, my neighbor. We also share the same last name. If anyone knew more, it was her. The woman had more information than the FBI. She opened the door with a smile. "I saw Joe leaving your place earlier, dear," she said, ushering me in before I could even speak. "I was about to come by myself!"
I didn't even pretend to play coy. "He said Alaric's son is selling the estate. You know anything about that?"
Her eyes sparkled. "Oh, do I ever." We sat down with cookies and milk like two conspirators. "It's not Mr. Alaric behind this, it's his son. Tobias Emris Moretti. Early thirties, runs companies in London, very wealthy, very private. Moved in a few weeks ago. Drives a Rolls Royce… or sometimes a black Mercedes."
My heart skipped. "A black car?"
She nodded. "Oh yes. Sleek, tinted windows. Seen it around a few times."
I swallowed hard. My mind flashed back to that night in the snow, the stranger's black car, the smirk, the voice that offered me a ride. No. That couldn't be him. Could it? Mrs. Walker kept talking, but her words were a blur. Something about him being single, charming, too handsome for his own good. I was only half-listening because I didn't care about that.
By the time I left, the sun had already set. The house was quiet again, except for the faint hum of the refrigerator. I made myself a cup of coffee, trying to shake off the weird energy. I wasn't going to let gossip rattle me. Not tonight.
It was quite fun, but pointless. No one wants to face the spoilt child, Tobias. Saying his name already sounds like he is going to be a lot of trouble and I don't want to face him. I have no say in their property. My burden now is to find a new place before next week.
I don't want to leave this place, if you ask me. It's peaceful and up to my taste, if I had the chance to speak with Mr. Alaric, I could maybe ask him to change his son's mind about selling the place. If he had doubled the price instead, I would pay without thinking twice. But seems money is not his problem. But if money isn't, why would he sell the place? He's a billionaire. He's got a lot of companies and estates all over the country.
Though, I met his father, Mr. Alaric once, the day he celebrated his birthday party, last year. They invited everyone, His mansion was aesthetically pleasing. His wife was stunning. I've neither spoken to the wife nor to Alaric himself.
Ever since, no sign of him. That's all I can say about his Mr. Alaric, He's always with bodyguards. He's very wealthy. Mrs. Walker's words, not mine.
The first day I also moved here, I saw his car leaving. I didn't know it was his car. Mrs. Walker told me. She welcomed me into the household by making some delicious muffins. Remembering everything just made me realize how bad I'll miss this place. The peace, all the kids around are all grown-ups, fifteens, sixteens.
I return home during the day mostly, so I know all about this and after returning home, I go straight to sleep. Nowhere else, like that every day. Only when Becky arrives, we spend the night outside. Nightclubs, dates, restaurants, you know the vibe. But for now, Becky's not in town and when she is, she stays at my place. She doesn't have a place here and moving back to my mother's house is the last thing I'd do.
As I walked past the kitchen window, I froze. Across the street, parked half in shadow, was a car. Black. Tinted windows. Engine silent. Watching. I blinked, my breath catching in my chest. Maybe it was coincidence. Maybe it wasn't. I closed the curtains and went over to the couch to relief myself of the pointless tension.
Then.
My eyes flicked to the trash bin and my heart nearly stopped. The rose was gone and a new card was on the counter saying "We should talk."