"You don't have to pretend anymore... I already know what happened."
Those words sent an icy chill down Devon's s spine, as if he had been poured cold water. He had stood there, speechlessly. He reckoned. Not knowing whether to speak up and ask her to keep it a secret, or whether to remain silent, not saying anything at all. At that time, he had been so engrossed in her beauty— possibly mystified by it, that he had stood there, staring at her like a naive fool who had just felt icy water on his face. Indeed, he was taken aback. And as beads of sweats started to form on his forehead, the only response his brain could really come up with was... "Sorry, what?" That was when she repeated it again. "Yeah, you don't have to pretend anymore... after all, I already know what happened." Devon couldn't help but reflect on that particular incident as he drove the black Mercedes-AMG he had also received as a birthday gift, through the night. And even now, he could still feel the efffects of those heart wrenching statements. What did she mean by she knew what happened? Could it be that she knew about what had transpired between him and her brother. Devon had been lost in his own thoughts back then. She had left him in the state of speechlessness, with no way to defend himself. It was events like this that made him develop hate for secrecy. He so much hated the ordeal. Right there, at the ceremony. He felt like trapped rat when Anabelle mentioned that she knew about what happened out of the blue. It wasn't until he had questioned her— after almost giving himself out, that he had found out what truth she knew. What Anabelle had meant earlier was that he—Devon, hadn't wanted to get married to her, even though their parents had gotten their way, and that she was well aware about it. She felt she had to say this at the time, seeing the way he was looking at her. She knew all this because, she had been home that night, with her family for an impromptu dinner arranged by both their parents and he was no where to be found. She left smiling after saying all this to him of course, leaving him to drift away in his own thoughts. After the engagement ceremony she had left with her family, kissing him on both cheeks before she did. It was during this period that he remembered the box he had received from Damian. Filled with curiosity, Devon took off to his room, with the small box on one hand, leaving behind the glass of wine behind. On getting to the room, he took out another glass from the tray pan resting comfortably, on a table beside the large sofa there, and poured himself a reasonable portion of whiskey. For a minute or two, he stood there contemplating whether to open the box or not, but after giving much thought to it he proceeded to open it up. As he unwrapped the box, the familiar scent of Damian's cologne wafted up, transporting him back to memories he'd rather forget. And when he was done unwrapping it, he found a piece of paper in the box. The paper inside was crisp, the address scribbled in hasty handwriting. Curious, he proceeded to open it. Written on the piece of paper was an address— an address with a short note written below it. "Meet me at the above address, by 10pm or else...? ...I'll be waiting." That was when he had hopped into the car, and drove out of the mansion. "Meet me at the above address, by 10pm or else...?" The words sent a shiver down his spine, a mix of anticipation and dread swirling in his stomach like a tempest. The weight of the message settling heavy in his chest, as he drove through the night, the dashboard The clock on the dashboard glared at him, it's lights casting an eerie glow on his face. It's digital display taunting him with the relentless march of time. 9:47 pm. Thirteen minutes left. He thought. His mind racing, he floored it, the engine's roar a stark contrast to the silence that had preceded it, devouring the distance. The address on the piece of paper seemed to burn a hole in his pocket, it's cryptic message fueling his curiosity and anxiety. What did he mean by 'or else'? Was this a threat or a warning? He pondered. Surely, the answers to this questions awaited him at his destination."You don't have to pretend anymore... I already know what happened." Those words sent an icy chill down Devon's s spine, as if he had been poured cold water. He had stood there, speechlessly. He reckoned. Not knowing whether to speak up and ask her to keep it a secret, or whether to remain silent, not saying anything at all. At that time, he had been so engrossed in her beauty— possibly mystified by it, that he had stood there, staring at her like a naive fool who had just felt icy water on his face. Indeed, he was taken aback. And as beads of sweats started to form on his forehead, the only response his brain could really come up with was... "Sorry, what?" That was when she repeated it again. "Yeah, you don't have to pretend anymore... after all, I already know what happened." Devon couldn't help but reflect on that particular incident as he drove the black Mercedes-AMG he had also received as a birthday gift, through the night. And even now, he could still feel the e
"Hi... Nice to meet you. For the first time." Damian said extending his right hand towards Devon for a handshake, with a smile which could easily be mistaken for a grin. Devon stood right there, visibly stunned. This right here was the man he had met at the bar - his fiancée's brother, of all people. This was a man he had wished to never come across again, with those almost amused curved lips of his. A man whose presence he couldn't seem to resist. Damian's chiseled features and piercing eyes sparkled with amusement as he smiled, his sharp jawline and perfectly sculpted lips making the gesture undeniably captivating Heart racing, Devon could really do nothing but stand there and stare at him. He couldn't take this handshake, he wouldn't, for the fear of himself. He wasn't sure he could control himself if he eventually touched him. But then, Anabelle was here. Standing right beside them, waiting for him to take her brothers handshake. He couldn't refuse it. Atleast not now,
One Week. One week had gone past since the incident at the hotel, but still he hadn't received any strange texts or calls from an unknown caller. Devon felt a bit relaxed now, knowing that the stranger from the bar— whoever he was, had no way to contact him. Because if he did, he most definitely would have contacted him by now, making one reckless demand or the other due to his status. "Happy birthday, Devon." A middle-aged woman said, as she approached him, along with her husband. Today was indeed his long awaited 26th year birthday, and also the engagement ceremony of him and Anabelle Lawson. Father had thrown a lavish party to celebrate it— one too lavish for his liking however, and had invited a reasonable amount of highly reputable guests from the business world. Some of the city's politicians and some government officials were also in attendance too. "I brought you a gift." She added, showing him a relatively small rectangular box, before extending her hands to hu
Devon woke up on the bed of an unfamiliar room, his head throbbing vigorously. One thing was clear however, he was in a hotel room, but for what exact reason had he come here for? He asked himself. He tried leaning on his back, while trying to recall the events that lead to him waking up here. After a moment or two, memories of what lead to him spending the night here, came flooding like a wave through his mind. The other night had been a really wild one, literally speaking. He had gotten drunk and had come here with—his eyes opened wildly. He had come here with the guy he met at the bar last night. Devon turned to the other side of the bed but found no one. Surely, there had been someone else with him last night. He got out of bed, head still throbbing, wanting to take a wash and then discovered that all he had on was just his underwear. Then it really dawned on him. If he was half naked then it only meant one thing. "No, no, no, no, no!" He muttered.He had brought thi
"You're getting married to Anna Lawson whether you like it or not." "But father, do you even care how I feel!?" Devon asked. "Or at least... what I want!?""What you want is irrelevant!" Mr. Hamilton declared, cold and fierce like ice."The only thing that matters is what is best for this family!" Mr. Hamilton continued, smashing his hands on the office desk in front of him. "And that is paramount!" For a minute Devon was dumbfounded. He couldn't bear the thought of getting married to somebody he barely knew. He took in a deep breath with one hand in the pockets of his well tailored Italian suit, the other rubbing his forehead frustratingly, then continued."I barely even know her, father." Devon said, this time as calm as a dove. "You have to rethink this." However, as he spoke, the man in question already had a look of growing unease on his face—the kind that tells you that the listener wasn't prepared to listen to whatever you had to say to him at the moment. Devon saw this, bu