(JARED’S POV)
I was buried in work when Sofia’s call cut through the silence, pulling me from my focus.
Ok what happened this time? When could she stop causing trouble? I sighed and suppressed my anger as I listened to her crying on the other end of the phone. She lived under my roof; her safety was something I couldn’t ignore. Now I knew that was my karma. I shut my laptop, grabbed my keys, and left.
As I drove, I silently prayed that the accident was not as bad as she had explained over the phone.
Halfway there, I hit a red light. Frustration gnawed at me as I tapped the steering wheel, waiting for it to change. That’s when my gaze drifted, scanning the surrounding cars. It was then I noticed a grey Audi beside me.
This wasn’t a rare model, but it looked particularly familiar somehow.
Something stirred in me-Ashley’s car? But why would she be in this part of town? My eyes narrowed, curiosity taking hold. I leaned forward, trying to peer through the tinted window.
There, in the passenger seat, sat a woman whose face was obscured by the reflections and the chaotic traffic. I couldn’t make her out, but something in my gut twisted.
She looked familiar. Too familiar.
The feeling hit me hard, a strange pull, like I should know her. My heart skipped, and for a moment, everything else faded. I strained to get a better look, trying to inch closer, but the distance and reflections distorted my view. Still, I couldn’t shake the sense that I had seen her before.
It gnawed at me, growing stronger with every passing second.
“Hey, where are you?” Sofia’s voice breezed through.
“I’m almost there,” I muttered, my eyes still glued to the Audi. My fingers tightened around the wheel.
“Please hurry.”
As the call ended, the red lights turned green. Immediately, Ashley’s car sped away, getting lost in the stream of cars and traffic.
A sharp pang of regret settled deep in my chest. I should’ve followed it, should’ve pushed harder to see her-whoever she was.
The moment slipped away, leaving me with a strange emptiness I couldn’t shake. But I forced myself to shove it aside.
Deciding there was no point dwelling on the matter, I shoved it aside and focused on getting to Sofia.
I soon arrived at the location and parked a few meters away, then alighted. As I approached, my heart suddenly sank in my stomach when I saw the car-my newly acquired Bentley Continental GT.
What the hell? Of all the cars, why did Sofia go out with it? My head was swarmed with thoughts as I approached her.
The moment she turned around and saw me, she hurried into my arms, bursting into tears.
“Jared!” she cried, clinging tightly.
I froze for a moment, unsure of how to handle the situation, before wrapping my arms around her. I had to comfort her, at least.
“I was so scared,” she said, her voice shaking when we disengaged.
I pulled out a handkerchief and handed it to her. “Here.”
“Are you hurt?” I asked, scanning her face and body.
She shook her head. “No, but I think I’m traumatized.”
“I’m sorry about that,” I said, my eyes drifting to the damaged car. A mix of emotions flowed through me-disappointment and sadness because the car cost a lot.
But I couldn’t talk about the car now; it would be highly insensitive of me. Instead, I pulled out my phone and dialed my mechanic’s number.
“Hey, Troy. I need your service. My Bentley’s been damaged. Can you come pick it up??
“Sure.”
I quickly read out the address, and the call ended. Then I turned to Sofia. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
She nodded. “But, I have to get my stuff from the car.”
I nodded, and she opened the car’s backdoor, bringing out designer shopping bags.
My brows shot up in a frown. It’s not been quite long since she used my card to shop, why then was she with new shopping bags? It wasn’t hard to finally piece things together; she had gone shopping with my most prized car and got it bashed. But I didn’t say a word, I merely led her to the car I arrived in, opening the door for her. As she settled in, I got into the driver’s seat and turned in the car’s engine.
This wasn’t over.
We’d talk about the car later, but for now, I just wanted to ensure she was safe.
The drive home was in silence as everyone seemed to be in their separate worlds. I spoke. Pulled into the driveway, and Sofia’s excitement began to surface.
We got inside the house and she got on the couch, instantly taking out the contents of the shopping bag.
“Look at this gorgeous dress. And these blouses, aren’t they stunning?’
Her words struck my nerves. For a
né
moment, I wondered if she was truly traumatized by the accident like she claimed. She seemed to have recovered so fast, and since that was the case I decided to bring up the topic I was saving later for tonight.
“I think you need to get a job, Sofia,” I said suddenly.
She paused, her eyes narrowing as they looked up at me. “What did you say?”
“You need a job,” I repeated. “Something to keep you busy.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes, you do,” I insisted. “You need to start leaving the house every morning and doing something other than shopping.”
“Are you calling me jobless?” She asks, her voice rising.
“No. I just want you to start working and earning so you can experience how difficult it is to earn money. Maybe, just maybe, you can learn how to be frugal and not lavish money and ruin things.” Her expression darkened as her eyes turned accusing. “Wait, is this about bashing your call?
“No-“
“I know you’re angry, and you don’t have to pretend,” she continued, cutting me off. “Goodness, you’re so insensitive, Jared. So you’re more concerned about a car than my life?”
“I never said so, Sof-“
“What if I had died? Would you be giving me these lectures now?”
I scoffed, we’re at it again. “You should know this tactic if yours no longer affects me.”
“What are you saying?”
“All I’m saying is that you need to start doing something. That way, you wouldn’t be bothered about showing off.”
“We both know you went out with
that car not because you didn’t have yours, or because there was no other car to use, but because you wanted to flaunt your glamour life in people’s faces. If you get a job, you will be too busy for that.”
Her eyes were now hot with anger, an action peculiar to her when I saw through her schemes. “You know what? Say to my face that you’re tired of catering to my needs and drop this conversation about me getting a job because there’s no correlation between the two. You’re a fucking billionaire, and taking care of me is, and can never be a problem to you.”
I chuckled. “Is that what you think?”
“Exactly. If you can’t be a man anymore, let me know, and I’ll gladly return to my parent’s house!”
I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Then be my guest.”
The look on her face was priceless, as her mouth fell open in surprise.
But I didn’t care. I was past that stage. I can’t continue to keep quiet and watch her keep ruining my properties and lavishing Money. If she must, then it must be her money. Without another word, I turned around and walked to the door.
“I’m returning to work,” I called out.
And then I walked out, slamming the door shut.
I returned to work, trying to calm my nerves and not dwell on the argument with Sofia. As I settled in to resume working, my phone rang.
“Sir, have you checked the news recently?”
“No, why?”
“I think you should see something. Kindly check New York’s Time Business blog. Specifically, the latest update on Paradiso chains of restaurants.”
After the call ended, my curiosity was piqued. I quickly tapped on my laptop, going through the Internet.
I suddenly paused, my hand hanging on the laptop’s keypads as a headline caught my attention.
“Skilled chef, Arielle Meyers, announced as the New ambassador of the popular and richest Italian restaurant, Paradiso.”