Chapter 4: The Ghost of His Wife

"Sir, your 3 o'clock is ready for you," Rominic looked up from the sheet he was scribbling on and stared dully at his secretary. As if feeling his gaze, she looked up from her notepad and stared at him in the eyes for a few seconds before she quickly averted her eyes back to the notepad. The first thing she thought was that she was right to check up on him. She was personally assigned to him by his mother, particularly tasked with keeping an eye on him and making sure he didn't overwork himself.

She mentally rolled her eyes, that was the hardest part of her job. Everything else was easy but when it came to keeping him at full health, she wished she could quit. He was a stubborn and reckless man. He would unnecessarily work overtime and barely ate, and thanks to his insomnia, he was always having a headache or nosebleed. The man was stubborn enough to reject his medication, just so he could intentionally punish himself.

She rolled her eyes again and scoffed. ‘If he was going to act like this, he should never have betrayed her,’ she thought. She didn't know the full details but she knew that her boss once had a fianceé but was cheating on her with another woman. He was also responsible for ruining his fianceé family and the lady committed suicide. After the death of the lady, he realized his mistake and knew he was madly in love with her. He'd been through a lot of mental illnesses and his family were constantly worried about him. It was serious to the point that he was not allowed to hold any sharp object for fear of the unknown.

If it was another woman, she would have felt pity for him, especially as she witnessed some of his mental breakdowns firsthand, but since it was her, she only scoffed at it. As someone who'd gone through something similar with her parents, she felt no pity for him. Seeing him reminded her of the times her mother suffered emotionally and mentally because of her father's betrayal. Even though he later realized his mistake, it didn't change the fact that her mother almost died because of his mistake. Seeing men like her boss irritated her but she couldn't deny the fact that he was a capable and kind man, despite his faults, and the pay was good.

"Sir, you still haven't touched your food,"

Rominic returned his eyes to the sheets. He was well aware that his secretary didn't like him and knew the reason, but he didn't mind. He appreciated being hated because he believed he deserved every bad thing for his past mistakes. Good things didn't need to come his way. Love and care shouldn't be for someone like him. He'd lived the last years hanging on the thread of life he was being forced to hang on to. The simplest things like hatred or scorn were two of the reasons he was hanging on.

"I'm not hungry,"

"Sir, might I remind you that the last time you didn't eat, which was yesterday, you collapsed in the jet?"

"I'm fine,"

She adjusted her glasses with annoyance and breathed in from her mouth. "I'll get you something else to eat if you don't like that one,"

"I said I'm not hungry,"

"Sir, please, eat something and fix your hair, you look like someone who hasn't slept a wink for weeks,"

"That's not far from the truth," he pointed out with his brisk tone.

She clicked her tongue and her dark brown eyes thinned out for a second. She gave him a dirty look and tapped her fingernails on the notepad. "Sir, it might not be far from the truth but they don't need to know that. If your enemies find out you're breaking down again, the company will be attacked and the lives of people will be at risk, including mine. I might hate my job but I love my monthly paycheck, so please, eat something and take your medicine. Mind I repeat the words Young Miss said? You're not allowed to die yet until you pay for your crimes," she felt bitterness on her tongue. She hated talking to him like that because she didn't deem it professional, but it was the best way to get him to behave. She got permission to use that card whenever he was reaching his limit.

Rominic hummed thoughtfully. "Yes, I have to be alive to face my punishment, but I'm really not hungry, Chelsea,"

"Stacy, my name is Stacy," she grumbled. He nodded, still scribbling on the sheet. "Sir, what would you like to eat?" She tried again.

He sighed and dropped the pen. "Didn't you say my 3 o'clock was waiting for me? Isn't it rude to keep them waiting?"

"They are mere representatives, I believe they can wait a minute or two, or you can eat while discussing with them,"

"I'll eat when I meet up with the other directors for the little welcome dinner, and don't look down on the representative, they might have a good offer for me,"

"Until then, eat," she insisted. Rominic groaned and dropped his face in his palms. Stacy smiled victoriously and adjusted her glasses again, out of habit. "Do you want something with fish or meat?" Rominic ignored her. "Meat it is. Now please arrange your appearance, sir. You wouldn't want to make a bad first impression on the representative that might have a good offer," he snorted at her indirect jest but didn't say anything. He hated to admit it but she was good at what she did, so good she wouldn't give him a break to wallow.

Stacy left the home office and Rominic sighed, deciding to listen to her. He had just finished fixing his appearance when the two representatives walked in, two women. His already scowling face twisted. He thought he made sure to tell them not to send female representatives. "Good afternoon, sir," and what are they wearing? Rominic slapped his forehead, already guessing what they were after. What he couldn't be sure of was if it was their company that was behind it or themselves.

"Sir, are you alright?" One of them asked, offering him a light seductive smile.

"Why are you dressed this way?" He asked blatantly. "You're here for a meeting, not a disco,"

The first woman's heart skipped while the other cleared her throat. She was dressed more closely to an office worker so she didn't see anything wrong with her appearance. "Since the meeting was scheduled to happen in your villa, the director thought it would be better to dress comfortably,"

Rominic clasped his fingers and dropped his chin on the back of his palm. "So is this your version of comfortable?" They stared at him dumbfounded and then looked between themselves. "That's the door, use it,"

"But sir—"

"Tell your boss—that's if he's really the one who sent the two of you here dressed like that—that if I need a call girl, I know how to get one. I don't need his help. Get lost, now." The ladies exchanged panicked looks and turned back to face him, but his cold and menacing gaze made them bite their bottom lip and excuse themselves quickly. Rominic sighed loudly and ran his fingers through his hair. He understood now why Stacy acted that way.

Stacy walked in carrying a tray of iced milk tea and two plates with different food. Rominic groaned. "Are you a witch, how did you get that ready just now?" Stacy smiled and dropped the tray in front of him.

"That's instant pot meatloaf with mashed potatoes and the other one is sheet pan nachos, eat both or one,"

"Or none," he grumbled under his breath.

"Both or one," she repeated sternly. Rominic scoffed. "You sent your honorable representatives away, I see,"

"Leave."

"Very well, sir. I shall do as you say and file a sexual harassment complaint. That'll make my day," Stacy smiled and left, already writing the complaint in her head. Rominic dropped his face in his palms as soon as she left. His mind instantly went back to his love. She was the most decent girl he'd come across, especially for someone from a well-to-do home. Lavender would never try to seduce a man. This thought filled him with regrets again.

Living with regrets is the worst way to live. It is a torment to the spirit and torture to the soul. A flash of what he'd been through the past years skimmed through his mind. Every day was a new discovery of emptiness, loneliness, regret, sadness, and depression. When he thought he couldn't get any more emptier, frustrated, and depressed, life always gave him a good hit.

He took it as his karma for the sins he committed on an innocent soul. He was given a chance to feel true love, someone who truly loved him and not his money or status, but he was blinded by anger and infatuation with the woman he thought he loved. He was just a fool who didn't gain his senses until it was too late. There were quite a lot of things he didn't want to think about, so many he wished to never remember, so many of his mother's warnings that haunted me. She warned him, almost everyone did, but he didn't listen and now, he was facing the repercussions.

It'd have been easier to forget about her and move on, but he couldn't bring himself to. The very thought of forgetting about her made his head hurt. He could never get her memories out of his head and the pain that came with the memories fueled his depression. Her smile, her eyes, her face, her horrible laugh, her voice, the way she talked, and the advice she gave him. She was money-cautious, responsible, everything a good woman should be. She didn't even realize her own worth and the fact that she was too good for him, and he tossed her away before he realized the priceless gem he had.

How could he forget her when he couldn't find someone like her?

His phone suddenly blared with an ear-shattering sound, making him jolt from his seat and his heart stop working for a moment. He pulled out the drawer of the desk and brought out the device he barely used. The message written on the screen confused him.

He returned to his seat and quickly grabbed his laptop sitting close to his computer and opened it. Someone logged into Lavender's safe online account, an account he was registered as next of kin. He never touched the money she saved up there and even added more over the years. He developed a psychological urge to add a certain amount to the account, fearing that Lavender would curse at him in her grave if he didn't do it. Just like how he tended to her garden obsessively.

The person used the passcode only known to him and Lavender. Lavender was never the type to store passcodes or passwords in books or devices. She used only four different types and they were all saved in her head. His head was his own flash drive so he didn't do that either and he never told anyone. Who then accessed the account? The person withdrew a large sum of money, almost everything Lavender originally saved.

Who dares steal from my wife?

The person was sloppy and didn't cover up his track. The money was withdrawn two times, a different amount. He tracked the first transaction and it showed that the money was sent to a hospital account in Las Vegas. The name of the hospital was familiar. It was the private hospital he recently collaborated with to develop new equipment. The hospital was part of the reason he was in the city. It was one of the best private hospitals around. He wanted to think the hospital stole from him but that didn't make any sense.

He scrolled down and when he saw the name of the withdrawer, his world stopped moving. He shook his head, denying the possibility. The person's name was Jamila Oslo. How could she have the same middle name and mother's maiden name as his wife? Did the thief create it to hide his true identity? The tracker proved that the device used to carry out the transaction was still in the hospital. He couldn't understand what was happening.

Stacy walked in again and saw that he barely touched his food and was looking disturbed. She approached him with genuine concern. "Sir? Are you alright?"

"Come over here for a second and read this, maybe I'm having another hallucination. I haven't taken my meds for weeks, I've been flushing it down the toilet," Stacy frowned immediately she heard that. Why was she concerned again? Annoyed, she stomped over to him and bent down to see what he was talking about. Rominic pointed at the name. "What do you see?"

"Jamila Oslo, why?" Rominic stood up abruptly, almost bashing his head on her face. She was quick to move away and glared at him. She watched him grab his laptop, phone, and car keys and hurried towards the door. "And where are you running to, sir?"

"Heritage Hospital, get the cars and the bodyguards ready, now."