French Butler

Alvin couldn't feel himself. He was looking at his father with a shocked look on his face. Disbelief clouded his features; and his fists were tightened on top of his lap.

“W-what does marrying Amanda have to do with this?“

“Don't ask unnecessary questions. We both know that you won't be able to live a good life…” Mr Muller said. “…with another woman,” he added as an afterthought.

Alvin suddenly hit his fists on the chair and stood up to attack his father in anger but the scar-faced guy blocked me.

“What do you want to do? Fight me?“ Mr Miller asked, his voice sounding amused.

“I'll do more than fighting you, old man! I'll kill you here and now!“

“Watch your words, boy!“ Mr Miller exclaimed, standing up too.

Alvin noticed for the first time that his eyes were red; he had probably been doing drugs before he came.

“You even told her what mother said. Why in the fucking world did you do that?“ Alvin yelled, trying really hard to stop his tears. “It's not my fault that I was born like this. I—”

“That's not the point, Alvin! You're changing the subject of our discussion. This isn't happening because your mother claimed your face is cursed. It's happening because you refused…”

“Refused what?“ Alvin asked, even when he already knew what his father wanted to say. “Why don't you complete it?“

“This will never have happened if I…” Mr Miller stopped.

Alvin looked at his facial expression.

“I have a business issue to attend to. Just freaking marry her, Alvin! We both know she's a good wife material; and one of the only people that can stand your face.“

“Okay. Let's assume I marry her, then what?“

Mr Miller smirked devilishly when he heard his son. “I'm not forcing you to marry her, son. It's your choice.“

Alvin let out a breath of relief.

“…just know that I'll not even blink my eyes if Raven comes for you.“

“But—”

Mr Miller wasn't sitting on the chair anymore. He was already walking back upstairs; leaving Alvin in the middle of his words.

The scarred-guy followed behind him as he walked. The now-very-cold sitting room was left with just manager Loki and Alvin.

“Loki, I—”

“I'm sorry, Alvin. I can't change Mr Miller's mind.“ Manager Loki walked out of the sitting room after that, leaving a weak and speechless Alvin to himself.

****

Alvin didn't go to his company later that day. He simply called and told Amanda with an angry and frustrated voice that he might not be returning for some days and his assistant CEO, Victor, will take his place and help manage the company's schedule.

Alvin was in his permanent residence, legs stretched and eyes red as he tried to concentrate on the football match in front of him.

But it wasn't working. His thoughts kept flashing back to the look on his father's face when they were arguing. It was a look Alvin was very familiar with—a look that said Mr Miller didn't care about him or the choices he makes.

“Only mother could handle him,” Alvin said to himself, throwing a single seed of the popcorn before him to his mouth.

His phone suddenly rang. Alvin picked it up and put it on his ears.

Silence on the line.

“Hello?“

No response.

Alvin wanted to cut the call in anger and block the number since it was a private one; but he wanted to confirm if it was a spam call first.

“You called me first, can't you fucking talk?“ Alvin finally yelled, not able to keep his anger in check any longer.

Somebody laughed on the line. It was an old and dull sound like the cough of a goat—and Alvin suddenly recognised who it was.

“Daniel?“

“Hey, Alvin! It's been really long. Nice to see that you haven't changed a bit. You're still that rude and arrogant punk I've known since high school.“

The tone of Alvin's voice changed the next minute. “What! Is it really you? Why didn't you speak before? I thought it was some sort of fraud call; sorry, man.“

“It's fine.“

“You took off right after high school. Where have you been since then?“

“I will tell you everything. But over a few drinks, why don't you come to this club? I'll send you the address.“

Alvin wanted to say he was on strict prohibition of going to public places, but figured the distraction was exactly what he needed.

“Okay, man. I'm on the way.“

Alvin received a text message after that which read the address of the club. And he was a little shocked.

“North Hollywood? Now what the fuck would a person like Daniel be doing there?“

Despite his confusion, Alvin got up and prepared to leave. He came out of his house after that—it was a small and simple mansion which he had bought with his personal money earned from his company.

He got out and discovered that his Butler was in front of the door that led outside.

“Mr Lyam?“ he asked, as if in great shock.

The French man bowed, smiling in admiration and he looked at his master.

“What are you doing here at this hour?“ Alvin asked, glancing at his watch. “It's almost 9p.m.“

“I know you wasn't sleeping, so figured that you might try to go out at last.“

Alvin almost laughed when he heard him. Mr Lyam's French heritage was so thick and serious that he sometimes couldn't compose correct English sentences. The poor man hadn't even been able to speak English at all when he was employed by Mr Miller ten years ago.

“Yeah. I'm going out, what is wrong?“

“No! Your papa won't like that! And you even fired all of your securities. And you're not wearing a—”

“It's in my pocket,” Alvin interrupted in anger, hating himself for the fact that his two butlers are always reminding him to put on his mask.

“Still you sh—”

Alvin pushed him to the left side in irritation. He opened the door and stepped outside into the night.

Mr Lyam ran out after him, crying and calling and warning with a mixture of French and English that he shouldn't go.

Alvin ignored him. His eyes were roaming over his six cars; wondering which of them he should pick.

He finally decided to go with the black McLaren 720S, since it was his least expensive car and the one that called the least attention. The Keys were in the garage key-holder and he grabbed them before stepping to the car.

“Master! At least go with the Chauffeur!“ Mr Lyam begged, hitting the rear window of the car.

Alvin wind-down the glass a little and said to his problematic butler: “If you utter a single word of me leaving to my father, I'll make sure you never experience happiness in the rest of your life.“

Then, he drove off. The gate opened automatically as he got there.