Queen Regina

 Leroy Gamble tapped lightly on his laptop, searching for information. He had been up all night. The lawyer whom Peter had created that document with had been hard to get hold of. It seemed like the man was trying not to be found. He had asked Rossi for the lawyer's phone number but Rossi didn't have it. In fact, Richard had barely participated in the contract; he was just a witness. It had all been Peter's idea, Peter's whole drama put together.

 "Luke Martinez," Leroy recited repeatedly as he scrolled down with his mouse. The search engine gave over a million individuals going by that moniker, only adding to Leroy's headache. He was an intelligent man though and had studied Law and Criminology as his minor. He tried to recollect everything Rossi had told him about this mysterious lawyer:

 "Peter met with me a year ago in Omar during vacation...we had a lawyer write up the documents contained in that binder...." Omar....

 Quickly, Leroy erased his search log and retyped: Luke Martinez on vacation in Omar and clicked on the enter key. In a blink of an eye, the page was refreshed and the face of the lawyer stared back at him. A picture showed him in a straw hat, shirtless and in only beach shorts.

 "Gotcha," he murmured and quickly printed out all the information he could get from the internet. His phone rang and he picked it up, his eyes still fixed on the laptop screen. It was his personal hacker, Foss. He had saved him from a ten year jail sentence and getting him information was his way of repaying the favor. 

 “Talk to me," he commanded.

 "Sure thing, boss. I managed to squirrel out his home number. It was not listed in the city's phone books but..."

 "Just tell me what you've got, Foss!" The boy usually got ahead of his own head. 

 "Sorry, Chief. So get this: his number was listed under a Martin Lucas. Dumbest fake name ever, right? His number is 333-622-620 and his home address is 7 Old Oak Road, Alaska."

 "Great job, Foss. I'll be in touch."

 "I'll be here whenever you need me, Chief. And I'm out." The call ended and Leroy gathered the printer papers together. He had found the lawyer but Alaska was a cold and far distance. He shuddered at the imminent icy environment. He thought to inform the others of his findings and he quickly did so before leaving his study.

 ∆     ∆     ∆     ∆

  The dawn had broken but its luminous splendour was hidden from the spouse of the late billionaire. Regina had spent a whole week indoors without any physical communication with the world beyond her room. She had received a call from Leroy; he had found the lawyer who had prepared the documents Richard had shamed her with. But she had had enough of hiding. She refused to let herself get ruined by a single act of Richard. 

 "I am Regina Price-Torres. Nobody intimidates the queen," she proclaimed and opened her window blinds, welcoming the sunshine on her face.

 "Moira!" She screamed and the attendant ran into her room, bowing and genuflecting at once.

 "You called, ma'am," she humbly replied, keeping her face to the floor. 

 Regina spun around and clasped both her hands behind her. She needed something, anything to remind her of the charismatic woman she once was before Peter died. She hated this new her, this weak, powerless her. The world would think that once her husband had gone, her life was over but she refused to let that notion fly.

 "Get me Donovan and afterwards, get my bath ready. I have somewhere to be." Regina stood by her window and Moira leapt to the task, leaving her mistress alone once again. It was still early in the morning thus nothing much was happening downstairs. She grew bored and walked towards her wardrobe. Throwing it open, she began to plan her outfit for the day. She would be going somewhere important that required a sophisticated look. 

 "Mistress, you sent for me," Donovan reaffirmed, standing by the door.

 "Hmm, what do you think about this dress? Too much skin?"

 Donovan was conflicted on whether to give a reply or not. Even when Mr Peter was alive, he had always feared his mistress more because she was unpredictable. He glanced at the dress in her hand and squinted. Deep down, he hoped she had not called him to act as a fashion adviser alone. She had Moira for that.

 "Mistress, you would look magnificent in whatever you wear," he humbly replied. 

 She chuckled lightly. "Of course, I would. I just want an answer from a male perspective. Peter always helped me decide what clothes to wear. Now that he is gone, I feel lost and disoriented. So what do you really think about this dress?" She asked again, keeping it at armslength.

 After her sob story, Donovan looked at the dress once over and thought well before speaking:

 "You won't want to wear that, Mistress, if you are still mourning Mr Peter."

  "Thank you, Donovan. Wait outside for my next instructions."

 Regina glanced down at the dress in her arms and smiled sadly. It was a strapless, yellow designer dress, its hems resting on her thighs and the cape spilling past her bosom. She had worn it to an awards show three years ago where Peter had won the award for The Most Innovative Businessman. No one had clapped harder, louder or was more proud of him than her. She had stood solidly behind him when Richard was out in the world, frolicking. She knew the business better than anyone else and definitely it was she and not Jacqueline, who deserved to fill in Peter's shoes and continue his good work.

 Instilled with inbuilt courage and newfound determination, Regina exchanged the dress for a grey pantsuit which she hated but was perfect for what she had in mind and for where she was going. She opted for kitchen heels, comfortable but suave. She twisted her hair into a severe chignon and massaged her lips with mild pink lip gloss.

 Her appearance took Donovan by surprise. He gaped at her, shutting and opening his mouth like a fish. She was in her element. Regina was good at looking good. 

 "Let's go, Donovan. You are taking me to Petals. I want to see what disastrous things Richard has done to my late husband's hard efforts."