06: I need you

•Odette•

In all the years I’ve lived, I’ve always prided myself in two things—my composure and ability to adapt.

Growing up with the kind of parents I did who were strict about my upbringing and public image, I learned how to school my expressions and emotions.

I learned how to respond to ragebait. I especially learned how to deal with competitors and rivals, how to change business tactics that would suit my target audience.

I learned how to lie, scheme, and back away when things were getting too intense.

Now, I was throwing away all my life’s lessons and doing the opposite of everything my parents had ever taught me.

After my moment of weakness that had compelled me to dial Draven Lockwood and ask for his help like a pathetic fool, he’d asked me to meet him at a basic café where people of our kind would never be caught dead inside.

I parked my car at home and took a taxi to the place to avoid drawing attention to my black Maybach. I paid the driver and tipped him generously before I stepped out of the vehicle.

Then I sent a text to Draven, informing him that I had arrived. He responded almost immediately.

[D: Come inside. I’m sitting in the far right corner. Ordered a latte macchiato for you. (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)]

I frowned after I read the text. I hated latte macchiatos. And what the hell was that emoticon? Ugh, gosh. I was regretting this so bad.

Still, I took a deep breath and walked into the café. It was designed in a vintage 90s style with the floors in diagonals of white and black.

The place was almost empty, safe for an old couple and one psycho-sized Draven Lockwood.

I steeled my nerves and made my way towards him. There was a strange smile on his lips as he watched me coming his way. His elbows were propped on the table and his fingers were interlaced while he rested his chin on them.

I wasn’t polite as I sat down across from him on a high stool.

“Hello, Odette Valmont.” The ends of Draven’s foxy green eyes curved upwards.

Why did he always call me by my full name? It was beyond creepy.

“Hi, Mr. Lockwood.”

‘I’ve fantasized about popping your cherry since I was in college.’

His words suddenly replayed in my mind and I straightened my back. Less than twenty-four hours and I was crawling back to him to speak on the proposal that I’d turned down strongly.

“Feel free, Odette Valmont. It’s just the two of us here.” Draven pushed the drink he ordered for me to my front and spoke with a cordial tone.

There was nothing more worrying than a crazy man speaking softly.

“Thanks, but I don’t drink latte macchiatos.” I used a finger to push the mug back to him.

Draven didn’t relent. “It’s still hot and very sweet. Tasted it myself. You’ll like it.”

He pushed the mug back to me. My gaze darted from the mug to his face. There was a sweet smile on his lips, but a frightening glimmer in his eyes daring me to refuse him one more time.

I was in no position to bark a fuss against him now more than ever, so I perfected a grateful smile on my lips and said, “Thank you. I’ll try it.”

“Go ahead.”

“Huh?”

“Go ahead and try it now.” Draven urged menacingly.

“S-sure...” I gulped down on my saliva before actually taking a sip of the latte macchiato. It was disgusting.

“As sweet as you said.” I said instead, fake smiling at Draven.

“Perfect. Now let’s get to business. I couldn’t really hear what you said over the phone, that’s why I wanted to meet with you in person. Tell me again what you said.” Draven leaned back.

This bastard. He wanted me to repeat asking for his help and lower my self-esteem even more. Damn it.

But I needed to do this. I had no other option at hand. If I didn’t make a move to protect myself now, I’d end up with nothing and no name—the thing I feared the most.

“I wanted to know if the offer you proposed to me yesterday was still valid. About getting married and financing a business of my own.” I kept my pitch even as I spoke.

No shame, no gain. Or however the saying goes.

“Hmm…” Draven dragged out his hum while stroking his bare chin.

“I thought you said, and I quote, ‘You must be insane, Mr. Lockwood. If you think I’m like you—crazy—then you’re very wrong. I will never ever ever ever ever do anything as sinful as getting married to you. Not to talk of giving birth to your child just for the sake of business.’

“Then you stormed out of the private room that I’d graciously invited you to. You broke my fragile heart and ego.” Draven clutched his chest and feigned a pained look.

“On the phone, you told me the offer was still on the table.” I countered with a serious tone.

“That was on the phone. This is face-to-face. And I suddenly realize that your nose is a bit crooked. What if you give birth to a kid whose nose is pointing towards the west?” Draven folded his arms in a sassy manner.

“What??” I exclaimed. “Why would you even—huuu.” I paused to breathe. “Look, let’s talk about this and not make haste decisions.” I said with a relaxed tone

“Haste decisions, huh? Tell me, Odette Valmont, what made you change your mind about the offer?” Draven asked, an intrigued expression setting on his features.

I felt my face twist with annoyance as an image of Silver formed in my mind.

“Do you need to know?” I picked up the latte macchiato and took two sips.

“Of course, I do. How else would you convince me that you’re once again worthy of bearing the Lockwood name?” Draven said with a smug tone.

Goodness, this man was annoying. But he was useful.

“Silver—”

“Don’t you mean Silvia?”

I shot a glare at Draven before I continued speaking. “Silvia wants me gone. Out of the company and the family. And she’s close to succeeding. I can’t- I won’t let all my hard work go for nothing. Father and Mother aren’t even on my side anymore.

“I only have my brain and its ideas to depend on now. But without a support system, I’m useless. This is me asking—begging—you to consider me. Help me, Mr. Lockwood. I need you.”

Draven’s eyes glinted upon hearing my last sentence, almost as if he’d been waiting a long time to hear those exact words.

“You should have started this meeting with those words.” Draven said cheerfully. Then he pulled out a familiar pretty-looking file from nowhere along with a pen and handed them to me.

“You know where to sign, don’t you?”

“I do.” I said, then signed away three years of my life.

“Was that so sinful?” Draven jeered, using my own words against me.

It was. This contract was akin to selling my soul to the devil. And as everyone knew, Draven Lockwood was worse compared to the devil.

Just what have I done?