Chapter 1 - Engagement and Agreement

"Allevino Wiratama!"

The call coming from the corridor made my steps stop. The distinctive feminine voice of the French-born girl, Camille Zoe.

I was so surprised that I froze in place, then made sure the buttons on the shirt I was wearing impromptu didn't have the wrong holes. "I'm dead!" My lips clamped shut as the words came out.

"Are you crazy, leaving me behind just for a guy?" Her foreign accent was still very noticeable.

I turned around to face her figure who was walking quickly closer. I grabbed her fingers and showed her the shiny object wrapped around her ring finger while forcing a smile. "The important thing is that you got the ring!"

Our agreement when we met in her home country was about the concept of sexual freedom. We could get married, but there were no restrictions on dating as long as she and I were honest with each other. Maybe sharing a partner is included?

I don't know, I haven't tried that yet. She needs an excuse and the money to travel, I need a wife-to-be who won't protest in bed.

"Are you really... gay?" Camille's frown-oh I prefer to call her Milly-confirmed that she still didn't believe me. "How come that you don't look like a sissy?"

"Damn it!" I rolled my eyes before looking directly at her face and releasing my grip. Where else was sissy from? I doubted his honesty about language.

"What did you just say to me?" Camille's long legs could clearly accompany my steps across the hotel foyer and out the main door. She demanded an explanation by blocking in front of me.

Surely there were a lot of spies out here looking to save face that could be used against me at any time. Who wouldn't take advantage of the head of a property company?

I grabbed the back of her head, moving closer until there wasn't much distance when our cheeks met. I whispered slowly and with emphasis, "Damn. Fucking bitch."

Milly pressed her hands together in front of my chest, revolting with a disgusting screech. But I wasn't done yet.

I whispered more hoarsely, "Still not clear?" It was easy to touch the back of her body that my bodyguards said was like a Spanish guitar.

It was true, solid. "Besides, it's not necessary to break into the hole." I patted her gently, then gripped the core of her covered by the short skirt.

Milly moaned in my ear. Instead of being sexy, I shuddered in horror.

Well, I guess her skirt is still relatively short for the customs here. Especially since the pink color is eye-catching.

"Can you filter your language?" Milly pushed me. With more effort of course. Her glare that looked so hostile passed as the car stopped near us.

"From our first introduction, you didn't mind me being like this. Why do you feel powerful now that you know I'm not as poor as you thought?" I followed his gesture waiting for the driver to open the passenger door.

"I, eng—"

I cut off his alibi by getting in first as soon as the door opened.

I took the far end, attached to the closed car door in the opposite direction. "Let's talk about it inside. You don't want to be told you're marrying a faggot, do you? This country is still allergic to that kind of thing," I persuaded until I had to look down slightly to see his face.

Milly walked in, slamming the door shut hard. She ignored the presence of the fallen driver.

My assistant sitting beside the driver's seat seemed to be yawning. Is it too early in the day to take my call at this time?

My watch read six, and I hadn't slept at all. Last night's few hours were great, but it hasn't been able to get me to sleep. It might also be the effect of the strong pill mixed in my drink during last night's party.

Is having offspring the next imperative after marriage? Or did someone deliberately want to send me abroad like the sisters who got married first?

Oh, I know that person.

"Find out the identity of last night's employee. Raise his position." I spoke as I met eyes through the rearview mirror with Bulan, the assistant I mentioned earlier. It was hard to find a woman who didn't mix work with romance, especially since I wasn't interested.

"You didn't know who it was last night? I thought it was your boyfriend all along." Milly started to get interested in talking. She thought she was going to be angry about the touch.

My lips curled up, undermining her judgment by saying, "Gigolos never use real names."

Aryo is a pseudonym. I could have found out his background first if he had accepted my offer for a long-term relationship. But that wasn't the case.

All I know is that Aryo gets bored easily. Then he said he wanted to get married?

Seriously, I couldn't help but laugh.

"Hello, Levi!" Milly really ruined the atmosphere by waving her hand in front of my face. "You used a gigolo to reject me?"

I exhaled harshly and looked out the window beside me. Come to think of it..., "It's fine to join next time."

Aryo must like women's inverted triangles. We can try something like... a sandwich?

"You're crazy!" Milly swore.

"You're welcome." Yes, I was crazy for accepting the idea of marriage at forty. With Milly not being young either, I could justify the issue of offspring.

Without waiting for the driver to open the door, I got out first when the car's speed was stopped. Slightly amazed at the surroundings, I recognized the shape of the house that never changed even though the residents changed.

The two-story house, built on two acres of hilly land, is hidden in the middle of town. It retains the wooden design of an old colonial-era house, with some updated electronics as well as new outposts around the perimeter.

Admiring the lush trees that left a cool impression was not my style. I was summoned here and had no intention of lingering to explore the long corridors of the house until arriving at the second-floor balcony facing the highway confined to the roofs of the new shophouses.

"Still not found, Charles?" I first addressed the weakness of my caller, the eldest brother in the family. Maybe he'd just forget about my problem.

"None of your business." He didn't turn around or even look at all. Sitting on his long wooden couch sipping tea, Charles Wiratama pretended to read the newspaper and adjusted his glasses.

"Well, just let it go if the person doesn't want to be your successor." I wanted to break the decorum by sitting next to him, but I found myself standing in the doorway to the balcony.

Maybe I wouldn't have spoken so boldly if I'd been face-to-face. Charles' problem was that his eldest son chose to run away when he kicked out all his sisters.

My face felt frozen as the man over half a century old walked past my side. He said, "Looks like you made good use of the engagement gift from me?"

"Oh, of course." I stammered, though the audible steps indicated his departure.

"But why did Camille take another room?" asked Charles.

"Ask her." I followed, following the shadows behind him.

"Stop messing around, Levi!" The head of the stairs came into view, but Mas Charles turned to look at me. "I have been desperately covering up your every scandal out there!"

I was worried. My lips quivered against the simple, "You're asking for a favor?"

"I just want to guarantee your future."

What kind of future?

I kept looking at the stairs near us, thinking of leaving first and acting childish like before every time to avoid trouble.

Yes, Charles was a dictator in the list of problems in my mind. How much abuse had I endured for being the only younger brother in the family?

I didn't count.

"Like you did to my sisters?" None of our sisters held power even though they were subsidiaries. "You're just securing your wealth! You never really cared about any of us!"

I no longer considered the stairs that I might be able to jump from this one-story height, I climbed each step ahead of Mas Charles.

"Levi ...."

I ignored Charles' call and only realized that the merry body had passed by without me wanting to catch it. On the one hand, my conscience refused to be ignored. But on the other hand... I wanted to kill him.

"Levi?"

At the bottom of the stairs, right near the fall of Charles, Milly saw me.