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Chapter 4: Flying Phone

< Shirley >

My heart was pounding so hard, it felt like it would come to an abrupt stop all of a sudden, then I would be on my way to heaven.

I was counting my time left in this world when a phone started ringing, which happened to be my would-be murderer's cell phone.

"Hello?" Dylan spoke to the other person on the call and lowered his gun.

Ah, phew, maybe I would live a few extra minutes, that's the only thing I could think of. I had wasted so much time in my life idling away, and now only a few minutes seemed so precious. Karma took its toll on everybody, didn't it?

"Are you fucking kidding?" I heard Dylan snap. "No, I won't." Whoever he was talking to was having an argument with him. "Fuck this shit. If anything goes wrong, you'll be the first person I'll be slaughtering," with that, he hung up and turned his angry gaze at me, and I flinched.

"You're free to go," that's all he said before turning his back on me.

I blinked a few times, gaping at him.

Are my ears ringing? I wondered, unable to get any words out for a while. He said I was free to go. That meant...

"You won't kill me?" I asked, almost too excited.

"Do you want me to?" he growled, turning around to shoot me a glare.

"No, no, absolutely not." I defensively crossed my arms in front of me and frantically shook my head. Then I lowered my voice and asked, "But why?"

Something in my guts told me that it was that person over the phone who asked for my life to be spared. But I couldn't be sure since I had no connections to the Mafia.

Dylan clenched his jaw and just stared at me for a minute before exasperating a sigh. "Maybe because it will be a disgrace to my revolver to shoot a pathetic woman like you," he mocked.

That made me angry. Okay, fine, he didn't need to tell me the truth, but no one asked him to insult me like that.

I tried to suppress my rage, gritting my teeth, and said, "Wow, even your revolver seems to have no knowledge of the real class."

"It's because it has that knowledge, it knows that you aren't in his league," he replied. Before I could open my mouth to say something more, he spat out, "Now get lost."

"Yeah, whatever." I rolled my eyes. "I didn't come to stay here anyway." I turned around to leave.

"Oh! Wait, uh, stalker," Dylan called out for someone which I ignored. Surely, I wasn't his stalker.

"I thought you were just blind. Now it seems you are deaf as well." I wondered who he was talking to. How sad must it be for someone to not only be blind but also deaf!

"Lady, I told you to wait, now would you?" I stopped walking towards the exit and spun around because I was the only lady in that place.

"What now?" I frowned.

"About time you stopped on your tracks, stalker." He rolled his eyes.

"I'm not your stalker," I responded.

Why did people think I was his stalker? I was his follower; more like a fan of his racing skills.

"Yeah, right. It was my spirit from an alternate world that was chasing me on my way home from the office, wasn't it?" he retorted.

"Yes, that was me. I just wanted to talk to you. I didn't have any other intentions. Other than that, I only researched about you because I admire your racing skills," I tried to explain my point of view.

"That's what I call stalking." He pulled his lips in a thin line, flashing a mocking smile at me.

I groaned in frustration, having no more comebacks left.

"Anyways, the thing I wanted to say was, I don't want to see your face ever again, and if you let a single word about what you saw here today out, then I promise you won't live long enough to see another day," Dylan warned, his voice giving off an intimidating aura.

"Not to anyone?" I asked.

"No one."

"Not even to my best friends?" How could I go on a day without telling anyone about this life or death situation? I would die with a stomach ache.

"No."

"My mom and dad?"

"Don't you fucking understand? Not to a single soul!" he yelled, and I flinched once again.

"I-" I wanted to apologize but didn't get a chance to.

"Not a single word. Get out. Now. Your presence is contaminating this place." His voice had lowered, but it still had enough sharpness to pierce my ego.

No one had yelled at me like that. Ever.

Right after that, I pulled the stupidest stunt ever, and before I knew it, the phone that I was clutching with my life until now was flying towards Dylan.

Never in my life had I ever hit a target. But that day, it was different. It was cursed. I hit the bullseye, more like Dylan's forehead.

"Ah!" he cowered and reached out for his forehead, a dark purple bruise forming on it.

Seeing him wince in pain as his men surrounded him, I felt bad for hurting him. On the other hand, a few of his men raised their guns at me. They probably had already murdered me a thousand times in their minds.

I immediately took out my special bandage and stuffed it into one of their hands. All of them looked at me with shock but went to aid Dylan, nonetheless.

In the meantime, I sneaked out of that cursed place. As soon as I got out of the chamber, I ran as far as my legs could take me after I took off my broken heels, eventually stopping in a café for a drink to cool me down.

Death was so close. Just an inch away.

Before I ran out, I hadn't thought about the consequences. I would have to go back to that office again. I had an appointment with Dylan at 10 o'clock today. Just great.

Sucking a deep breath, after buying a new pair of heels, I walked back into the office building, praying I wouldn't encounter any of his men. Just because of some mishap, I couldn't let this one in a million chance to get Dylan to train me to slip out of my fingers.

Yes, I understood that he was in the Mafia, and that was fine by me as long as he didn't try to hurt me or my family. After all, who was Shirley Hamilton to change Dylan Lewiston?

I knocked on the receptionist's counter. Without even looking up, Nina informed me, "Sorry, but he doesn't want to meet anyone right now."

"But I have an appointment," I objected.

"He canceled it."

"What? But he can't do that." I knew why Dylan wouldn't want to see me, but it wasn't fair and it definitely wasn't enough to stop me. "Why don't you say anything to that guy?" I let out a huff.

"He's our boss, and his words are a law to us, okay? Stop bothering me. Go home."

I gritted my teeth and rested my head on the counter for a while to chill out. When I raised my head again, I saw Nina and everyone else present on the ground floor engrossed in work.

The edges of my lips curved up in an evil smirk as I found myself striding towards the elevator quietly. It was going way too smoothly as no one noticed me.

But curse my rotten luck, I heard a frightening voice, "Where do you think you are going?" It almost made me jump out of my skin. I quickly dashed towards the elevator and pressed the button.

I never felt more grateful at the 'ding' sound of the elevator. Just as Nina was about to catch me, I hurried in and pressed the close button, clicking out my tongue at her.

According to my informant's data, Dylan's cabin was on the topmost floor which was the fifteenth floor.

After waiting for what felt like an eternity, trying to make myself look presentable the whole way, I came out of the elevator, stepping into the private floor where everything was organized perfectly and elegantly.

I easily managed to find Dylan's cabin, but the trouble was that there were two bodyguards standing outside the door.

"Do you have an appointment?" asked one of them.

"Yes," I replied.

"Strange. We didn't receive any call from the receptionist," said the other one.

"I don't know. She must have forgotten." I shrugged it off with a smile.

"I didn't forget anything." I got goosebumps hearing Nina's voice behind me, who used the other elevator, I guess.

Flashing her a cheeky smile, I crouched and skimmed my way in between the two bulky guards, pushing open the door.

As soon as I barged into the cabin, the chilly air-conditioned breeze hit me. Dylan looked up from his work, heeding the chaos.

Dylan furrowed his brows as Nina and his two guards tumbled in behind me, who straightened up immediately under his mere gaze. When his eyes fell on me, he looked like he wanted to bang his head on the table as he let out, "Not you again."

And I acted like I always did. I feigned innocence.

"What is she doing here?" Dylan asked his receptionist, gesturing at me.

"Sir, she forced her way in. I tried my best to stop her, but I failed to do so," Nina replied and the guards nodded.

"Get out," Dylan simply said.

"See, he told you all to get out," I told them after putting a palm on my hip.

"All of you, get out," he repeated and turned his attention back to his love, his laptop. The guards left without another word, and before Nina could leave, he spoke up, "By the way, Ms. Steward, you don't need to come to work tomorrow."

My jaw went slack at his cruel words. I was even more shocked at how easily Nina even accepted that and was about to leave. I stopped her by holding her wrist, she whispered to me, "Please don't argue."

Ignoring her words, I protested, "You can't fire her. It wasn't her fault. She tried her best to stop me, I was just too stubborn. Please don't fire her for something like this."

"Then why don't you leave, Ms. Disaster?" I had to blink a few times to realize I was the one he said that to.

"I'll leave after I have a conversation with you," I asserted.

"Okay, fine." He sighed.

"Sir, do-" Nina was about to ask.

"You still have your job," he assured while typing on his keyboard.

Then Nina left after silently thanking me.

"Should I send you an invitation card to take a seat?" I heard Dylan say before I scurried over to sit on the chair in front of his desk.

"You have two minutes to state your business," Dylan informed, without looking up from his laptop screen. Was his laptop too beautiful or was I too ugly to look?

However, I was determined to not let this chance slip by. Whatever it took, I was going to convince Dylan.

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