121. David's POV. "Oh, wow, Mr. Oliver, so you can play golf?" I ask in wonder, stepping up to the older man as he holds his golf club tightly with his two hands. He's wearing a cap over his face— a faded white cap that matches his faded white pants. His sneakers are black, contrasting the whiteness of his pants and cap. Covering his chest is a light blue short sleeve Tshirt, revealing his wrinkled arms. Sensing my presence, he turns a bit and beams at me. "That's my favorite, David Truman. I played golf a lot in my youth." He says. Before I can respond, another voice comes up behind us. "My dad is a perfect golf player, don't even dare him when it comes to that." Claire comes into view, wearing a short black skirt that stops mid-thigh and a black camisole. The way her boobs jiggles with every step she takes tells me she isn't wearing any bra on the inside. Just like her father, she has a black cap on over her ponytailed hair. Her lips gleam red under the setting sun. "Hi

123. David's POV. After such a long trip with Mr. Oliver, I make my way into the mansion with practiced ease. My driver rushes over and takes my bag from me. Irene comes also and greets me, asking what I'd like for dinner. "I think some spaghetti bolognese will do," I tell her. She inclines her head and mutters 'good' before she turns to leave. On her way into the kitchen, I call her. "Irene." She stops and gazes at me from over her shoulder. "Sir?" "I'd love fresh juice too. Make one for me." She nods again and prances away. I strut into the living room and sink onto the sofa, turning on the TV. Clutching the remote control in my hand, I tune in to the sports channel, taking in the football match playing. The solitary reprieve allows me to relax my corded muscles as I perch my legs over the coffee table before me. The football doesn't hold my interest. I need to hear from Vera and call people who will help in organizing this gala I'll be hosting. At that, I emerge on my

125. David's POV. All evening I've been tense, worried sick to my bones. The event, my problems with Vera, the viral pictures of me and Claire, and how to make things work out between Vera and I all race through my head, I nearly lost it. While the guests were coming into the ballroom, I move away, wanting somewhere quiet to get my shit together. I can't stop worrying about her. Vera. I fucking want to know if she's going to come over but calling her on the phone will be a dead end because she won't ever respond to the call. Secluded in one of the hotel rooms upstairs, I undo some of my buttons after removing my suit Jacket, cracking the bones of my neck. I make sure I come up here with a bottle of whiskey and I quickly uncork it and begin to drink directly from the bottle. I don't know what to think again. What to feel, so I let all sorts of emotions swing through me, emotions I can't define. Amidst all, that tiny voice in my head keeps telling me Claire knows something. Fu

127. Vera's POV. "Oww…" I whoosh a breath, watching the passersby while I tap my feet continuously on the asphalt. Checking the time again, I figure out five minutes have gone by and Evelyn still isn't here. "What are you still doing, Evelyn?" I mutter, thumbing through my phone to call her again. This dizziness has gone out of hand too. My vision suddenly blurred while I was in the cafe. I just came there to relax this morning but the dizziness struck with force. That's when I decided to head to the hospital. Evelyn's advice a while back was perfect but my stubborn self couldn't admit to it. I didn't even check a pregnancy kit. I prefer going to the hospital to be completely certain. That's why I called Evelyn to help me with my purse. I sigh and scroll a hand through my hair. I'm getting worked up but I'll get a solution soon. "Vee?" A tiny voice calls out to me and I turn my back and see Evelyn smiling from across the building I'm perched on. "Get over here, Eve!" I wave

129. Vera's POV. My heart has never been this broken before. It feels like it's about to pop out of my chest. I'm losing my breath and strength is leaving my body fast. Sitting in the subway station on this frosty night, I sob relentlessly. I can't stop the rivulet or tears. I can't stop replaying the scene that occurred before me four hours ago. I've been sitting here for two hours and I've missed the first train that swung by. I can't bring myself to move. All I feel is heartache. David…after all he said to me, he still chose her in the end, why? Indeed, I'm never and I'll never be enough for him. After all, he is what he's rumored to be. A womanizer. I guess I was too blindly in love with him to realize I'd end up like his ex-wives. Too bad now, I'm carrying his child. I chuckle bitterly at the situation I'm in. I feel like it's a blessed-cursed situation. I'm blessed because I have a baby made out of my love for a man. But cursed because even before the baby could come