Chapter 4

David

I was restless.

I left London at 5 pm and slept for most of the 12-hour flight.

Arriving in Los Angeles at 9 pm when my body told me it was 5 am didn't give me the slightest desire to sleep.

The jetlag was weird as fuck, and for me, the day sims to start, not to end.

I miss my friends, both the ones from England and the ones I left here when I left the US.

I picked up the phone and called Thomas Halley, my childhood friend.

- I'm home. Shall we have a drink?

David, you're finally back? Thank God! I'm on my way to a bar in Santa Monica. Meet me there.

- I don't want to be the third wheel on your little bike.

- Quit the shit. I was going to have a drink. If I found someone interested in having sex, I say no thanks. Seeing my best friend after so long is more important than sex. - Thomas says, laughing.

- Frankly Thomas. Is there anything more important than sex for you?

They both laugh, and David hangs up the phone.

"Tomorrow I have to buy a car. Today, I'm taking an Uber."

In the room that still had the decor from when I was 16, I chose to wear simple jeans and a black sweater. Finishing with a leather jacket, I grab my wallet and phone and leave the house.

Getting from Beverly Hills to Santa Monica was a 20-minute ride, and when I entered the club, Thomas was sitting at the bar drinking.

- Did you start without me? – I ask, patting my friend on the back.

- David! - Thomas screams and hugs me, almost squashing me in his arms.

- Are you trying to kill me?

My friend laughs, and we sit.

- What do you want to drink, sir? – The cute bartender asks me with a sassy smile.

- Oh honey, everything you serve me, I will drink.

She giggles. As if I didn’t know, they always giggle. I’m so bored.

She lives to make my drink, and Thomas says:

- God demit. I have been trying to have a piece of that ass for months, and she doesn’t even smile for me.

- Maybe it’s just the fact you are ugly.

- Hey!

I laugh. I didn’t realize I missed my friend so much.

Sarah

I was lying down but couldn't sleep. Insomnia was nothing new for me.

Images from my past constantly haunted my dreams.

However, today, something different was keeping me awake.

David had left me intrigued. The man's cheeky smile made me nervous, and I didn't understand why.

He was 26 years old, 6.6 feet tall, with dark hair, piercing green eyes, and an "Adonis" body. His face was like an angel's, and he knew all the pleasures of hell.

He was returning home after ten years, four of them studying Business and Management at the prestigious University of Oxford in England, and, to everyone's eyes, he was the best catch in the US. Being the son of who he is puts him, for sure, on the top.

That doesn’t make Simon happy. He likes to be number one in everything, but 40 years was a big gap for him to overcome with his son.

I was relieved that Simon hadn’t come with me to pick him up. Every time my “fiancé” touched me, I felt goosebumps all over my skin, and not from pleasure.

If only things had happened differently, I wouldn't have to marry that man, but nothing could change my future.

I don’t know how, but my unconscious thought goes back to David and how he looked at me. If Simon were more like his son, maybe... what am I thinking? Even if the packaging were different, Simon would still be the monster he is.

David would probably be precisely the same but with eye-catching packaging. Michael surely was. Sometimes, he's even worse.

Yes, David was young, tall, muscular, and handsome, unlike Simon or even Michael, who was close to 44 years old, short, and with features that were the exact copy of his father. The fact that he was physically so similar to his father made her skin crawl.

I keep tossing and turning in my bed, and just as I decide to take a sleeping pill, the phone rings.

I pick it up.

The name that was flashing stood out to me. How else would dere call me at this hour? Sometimes, I think Simon can read my thoughts, even from a distance. That scares me a lot more than I’m ready to confess to myself.

- Good evening, sir. What do you need from me?

- Sarah, my dear, did I wake you up? And why do you keep calling me “Sir”?

- Sorry, Simon, It’s the habit. No, I'm still up. - It wasn’t really a lay.

- Oh, that's good. I need your help. Can you be a sweetheart and help your future husband?

That was almost funny. Simon's version of “asking for help” was the same as saying, “You will do what I say or else…”

-I can only ask a family member to help me with this. I would have given the task to Michael, but he was going to the airport in a few hours, and I didn't want to bother him.

"However, I can be bothered."

- I'm always ready to help, Simon. Any time of the day. What can I do?

- As soon as my son arrived, troubles evaded my life. Instead of sleeping like I told him, he got out and went to a bar.

God, he's 26 years old. Simon told him to go to bed.

- He's too drunk to move. Do you mind picking him up?

- I will get him, but why don’t you send a driver to pick him up?

- You're not questioning my decisions, are you, my dear?

Chills run down my spine.

- Absolutely not. I just wanted to know if you're giving me this mission because you think David’s in danger.

You are very clever, my love. That’s how I know you will be the best wife I could have by my side. Of course, the idiot's in danger. He's my son, and he's drunk. Anyone can use that against me. He will make a fuss if anyone else goes to get him. I don't believe David would dare disobey his stepmother if he knew what's good for him.

- Where is he?

- I'll send the driver to pick you up and take you to the bar. He knows the address. Thank you, my dear.

Simon hangs up the phone, and I sigh.

“He's not even a little bother with his son. Only if he prejudices his image.”

It wasn't that I could sleep anyway, but seeing David again when I still hadn't recovered from the nerves that the man's gaze had given me wasn't good.

I get dressed and put my shoulder holster underneath my coat.

When I went into the street, the limousine awaited me. The driver opens the door.

In silence, I get in.