From Frying Pan to Strange Fire

At the sight of the latest addition to the number of people in the house, a well-known kind of fear and curiosity hit everyone.

There were a few people in the country that nobody dares to mess with or get into trouble with. One of the most feared ones was Trevor Baliante. Ironically, he was the most harmless looking one, and the biggest investor in the Brandon’s business.

No one knows how he does it, but all who got into trouble with him had somehow ended up badly, and the police had never found Trevor wanting. He, also, was one of the few businessmen allowed to have heavily armed guards for no apparent reason.

So seeing him in their presence at that time and in that manner, signified nothing but trouble. Their fear was justified.

Joan and Grace were worst hit. With their hearts pounding in their chests and their eyes stretching as if they were about to pop, they exchanged glances, knowing that what they fear the most had finally caught up to them.

Joan willed herself to calm down, but it seemed the more she tried to calm herself, the worse her anxiety gets. The devil was truly after her and he was determined to ruin her completely.

“Mr. Baliante, to what do we owe such an unexpected visit?” Mrs Charles probed with caution and a faint smile, alternating her gaze between her son, who still had a gun pointed to his head, and the person she was speaking to.

“Pleasure seeing you again, Mrs. Charles Brandon.” Trevor greeted with a smile that contradicted the tense atmosphere his presence just created. “Put the gun away, Julius. That is no way to treat our hosts.” He spoke without looking at the person he was referring to, and the gun was immediately withdrawn from Richard’s head.

“Good evening, Mrs. Richard,” Trevor greeted Joan with a polite smile, noting how her heart was racing and skipped a beat when he put his attention on her. But another heart was pounding alongside hers.

Joan couldn’t verbally respond to the greeting because she didn’t trust her voice to not betray her. So she simply nodded at him with a forced smile plastered on her face.All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

Trevor’s perfect smile didn’t waver as he shifted his attention to the second person whose heart was beating abnormally faster than everyone else.

“Hello, Miss Grace Everton,” he greeted Grace, taking note of the slight surprise that flashed across her features for a second. “The one who thought I hit my head too hard and suffered a concussion.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Baliante, I was only doing my job.” Grace responded, willing her racing heart to slow down. But the fact that he called out her full name got her thinking only the worst.

“And you did your job very well. Thank you for saving my life.” Trevor complimented before shifting his gaze to the third young woman in the room. She was the only calm person in the house and he wondered why that was. The fear on others’ faces was missing on hers. Instead, she was staring at him with a kind of longing he knew very well.

“Hello, Miss or Mrs…” he trailed off, and just as expected, she went ahead to introduce herself.

“Belinda. Miss Belinda Wallace.”

Trevor gave her a curt nod then went ahead to address the house.

“Please pardon our manners and method of entry. That was done to ensure no one gets hurt here tonight. Believe me, we will all part ways happily if everyone of you cooperates. My boss is here. I strongly advise that no one pisses him off. He can do more damage than these guns. Thanks in advance for your cooperation, and may these men with guns put some fear in you to avoid bigger problems.”

All the while he was speaking, Trevor kept that smile on his face as if what he was saying wasn’t serious. As soon as he stopped talking, he took backward steps toward the door and gave a signal with his hand to someone outside.

Knowing his boss, trouble was bound to break out and blood would spill should he meet any resistance to his mission. That was the sole reason why Trevor suggested he goes into the house first to prepare the ground and the people.

“Does this have anything to do with the company, Mr. Baliante?” Richard summoned courage to ask, speaking for the first time since Trevor and his men arrived.

“Oh… Rest assured, this is not a business visit, Mr. Richard. This is a personal visit.” Trevor responded.

The man in grey suit outside, who received Trevor’s signal, opened the door of the second of three cars parked outside, bowing his head as Roman stepped out of the car.

Clad in a plain, sky-blue shirt and black pants, Roman walked majestically to the house, his steps fluid and determined.

As soon as he stepped in, his lazy, ocean blue eyes sought for the one whose thoughts had occupied his head and whose scent was currently driving him insane.

Just as he locked eyes with her, one side of his lips curled up in satisfaction. She was everything he hoped and imagined she would be. She was just perfect for him. He could see the fear in her eyes. His ears caught on to the hard and fast beating of her heart. He knew he was the reason for that reaction and it strangely brought him joy because how else was he supposed to claim this treasure before him?

As if to add fuel to the already burning fire, he opened his mouth to speak, keeping the smirk on his face.

“Happy birthday, wife.”