After the much-publicised custody hearing, either by luck or by choice, Arthur and Victory had successfully avoided bumping into each other. This is an accomplishment by itself, considering the both of them are still working on the same floor and in the same company. However, be it as it may, time is running out and soon enough it is going to play catch up with the two estranged lovers. This morning, the managers and team leaders at A. K. Media are gathered for a meeting to discuss strategies to achieving the firm's targets for the fourth quarter of the year. By the time Victory arrived outside the meeting room, Arthur was already seated at his usual spot. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Victory enter the room with David, her assistant in tow. Her head was bowed down low and without looking at anyone, she had chosen to sit as far away as possible from him, at the other end of the table. Perhaps wanting to put as much distance as she can between them.

"Come with me to the new apartment," Arthur coaxed over the phone. His interior designer, Samantha, is coming to check out the new apartment this afternoon and Arthur wanted me to be there. Well, what he wanted is my input, hoping that if the apartment is decorated to include my tastes, perhaps I would be more inclined to moving in with him.  Me living with Arthur? Been there, done that.  I am still reluctant to agree to his proposal. Based on our previous experience, jumping head first into a new attachment did not really work well for us. So this time, we're taking it slow.  Like real slow.  Just last weekend we had our first date. Imagine being engaged for several months and almost getting married but we have not even dated each other? So weird, but true. No wonder I ran away from the wedding. Last Saturday was our first date and it turned out pretty amazing. I snoozed for the first half, I mean Beethoven

"Would you like to go to the AIDS Foundation charity auction and gala dinner as my date?" Arthur suddenly asked. Victory looked up in surprise, her fingers suspended above her tablet as she turned her attention to the attractive CEO seated behind the desk. They were in his office, finalising some of the details for A. K. Media's Halloween Party which is going to be held in two weeks' time. Victory and her team had shortlisted the venue, theme, guest list and she was there to run them through with Arthur.  Despite enjoying the perks of sleeping with the boss, it's prudent to remember her place at the office. Besides, Victory didn't want anyone to know of their relationship just yet. "Can you waltz, Vic?" Arthur continued to ask. This time a mischievous twinkle glinted in his eyes as his lips morphed into a lopsided smile. In their first date, Victory snored loudly during Joshua Bell's performance. And now, Arthur decided that

"You are under arrest for the assault of Mr. Thomas Marshall." A deep male voice announced from behind the doorway. "Excuse me?" Arthur asked calmly, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, pale blue eyes gazing steadily at the stranger in front of him. As usual, there was a mask of indifference on his face, his true feelings hidden, reserved only for a select handful, of which I am among one of the privileged. My head whipped up in shock and without me realising, my body had automatically risen from the armchair, moving in autopilot towards the door. My heart palpitated in fear and I can literally feel the blood draining from my face. What on earth did Arthur do last night after I had left the ballroom? "Arthur?" I enquired softly, suddenly finding myself next to him, my arms enclosed around his waist, fear reverberating through my body as I turned to observe the two burly police officers outside the door. "It's okay, honey bun.

Arthur was sitting alone in a darkened corner booth, holding a glass of vodka in his hands.  He was not garbed in his usual fancy designer suits. Like Victory, tonight Arthur was also on a mission. His thick dark hair was covered by a nondescript brown trucker cap, his face partially hidden in the shadows. He was wearing a navy blue buttoned down shirt, blue jeans and a pair of sneakers. Like a speck of dust, he blended in with his surroundings, unnoticeable and uninteresting by those around him.  He was sitting with his shoulders hunched over the table, giving the impression of someone who is drinking their problems away. His face was tense and a muscle was ticking impatiently under his jaw. His eyes were glittering with intensity as he quietly observed the scantily-clad crowd dancing in the nightclub, his expression unreadable.  The nightclub that he was in had a huge dance floor in the middle and a raised platform with