Chapter Eight

Kelvin's POV

I frantically searched my suite for my car keys. I was already running late for the meeting I had this morning when somebody came knocking loudly on the door.

I pulled the cushions off the chair, hoping whoever was at the door would stop knocking if they didn't get a response.

~Cussed~

Shit, I cussed inwardly frustratingly as I kept looking for the car keys. I hated looking for things or making things bother me, but I had no choice but to personally look for them today since it was a Saturday and I had sent all my maids home for their weekly holiday.

"Shit, where the hell is this key?" I murmured, glancing around the room.

I tried to retrace my step and figure out where the hell I had dropped the key last night, but the knocking started getting louder and harder, making me wince as the sound cut through the silence.

I let out an annoyed sigh, shutting my eyes for a brief moment as I pressed my hands on my temple. "Coming,"

I made my way to the front door, walking briskly. I opened the door frustratingly without checking who it was from my doorbell camera.

"What is he doing here?" I asked inwardly the two lines on my forehead, squeezed up in anger as I glared hard at the person right in front of me. I did not have time to batter words with anybody, especially my mother's p.a.

The fact that I'm seeing him right now at my front, I knew it was nothing but trouble. My other sister only sends him to me whenever she wants to piss me off or demand something amplica from me.

I made way for him to enter because, as far as I hate hearing anything about my mother, I couldn't disrespect Mr. Francis since he had been with me ever since I was little; he was the only P.A. My mother had ever since I knew her, though she behaves like the devil and doesn't give Mr. Francis the respect he deserves; and he had never for once acted towards it; he was a cool and humble person, very loyal towards her, and very friendly to me.

He was the only person who treated me like a human ever since my parents got separated; apart from my best friend Max, he was my next favourite person. Francis knows me even better than my parents.

He was the first to know that I was bullied in school when I was in 5th grade. The other kids bullied me when my parents got separated; they mocked me for being the son of a broken home, and besides, I looked like a walking stick before; I was so tall and thin without much flesh.

Francis often saw me crying in our basement. I became miserable and didn't want to go to school because of the bullying. I even started hating my family for ever being separated.

My father was my best friend and also my biggest supporter. When he was with me, I loved being around him, and ever since he left, I haven't had the kind of peace I experienced when he was with us. I felt so lonely and uncared for, but Francis was there throughout the journey.

On the day my mom came home with a man whom she claimed to be her boyfriend, I felt so shattered and broken, but it kept getting worse when my own mother abandoned me; she was less concerned about me and only cared about her newly found love, who tormented me at every little chance he had.

Francis started stepping in as my father; he takes me like his own son and would always take me out, trying every possible means to make me happy and smile as a child. When I became a teenager, Francis was with me when I fought to become stupidly independent and release myself from my mother's claws; he saw me get drunk in the bar with my friends.

Try drugs, have meaningless sex with someone, go to strip clubs, etc. He still saw me getting vulnerable; sometimes he knew every time I messed up and helped me get out of such a mess.

As I grew up, he started teaching me how to handle my father's business perfectly and also helped me adapt to my life. He had been my biggest supporter ever since my parents got separated, and I'm so grateful for that.

He sat opposite me, his dark, curly hair gently turning grey but still looking perfect on him. His smile did not leave his face for once, indicating how happy he would be to see me.

"Good afternoon, sir," he said politely after a few minutes of silence.

"Sir? I told you to stop using honorifics for me," I said, feigning annoyance. I had warned him to stop using honorifics for me, but he instead told me he finds it uncomfortable when he addresses me by my name.

"I'm sorry about that, Kelvin," he said with a beaming smile.

"It's fine, Mr. Francis; what brought you here all the way from America down here? I asked, still shocked that he was here. I had travelled out of Dubai to sort out something's and use the opportunity to meet with some of my top clients for a meeting, so seeing Francis here was shocking, as was how he knew I was here, and why that woman couldn't wait for me to get back to home before discussing whatever she wanted instead of stressing out Mr. Francis.

I walked to my cellar, brought out a wine (screaming eagle), poured it into two glasses, closed the wine, and returned it to its original place. I placed the two cups on a tray and walked back to where Mr. Francis was sitting.

"S-i-r y-o-u," he stuttered, scared of taking it from my hands.

"It's fine, Francis. I decided to get it for you myself, and besides, it is not a big deal, so why did that devil woman ask you this time?" I asked with an obvious frown. I heard a deep sigh from him.

"Sir.....," He was about to talk, but the loud ringing of my phone cut him off from whatever he wanted to say. I checked the caller ID, and it was my p.a.

"Excuse me," I said, moving away from where he was sitting. Before swiping the green button.

"Yes!"

"Sir, the investors are waiting for you," my p.a. said.

"I will be there in the next thirty minutes; make sure you explain things to them and take them to a treat," I said before cutting the call. Returning to my seat, Mr. Francis was almost done with his wine by the time I got back. He brought a huge smile to my face, and at least he wasn't feeling uncomfortable around me.

"So what does that witch want?" I asked sarcastically, earning a slight glare from him.

"Language, man, your mother is not a witch," he cautioned.

"Anyhow, what does she want, and why couldn't she go for me to get back to America before this whole thing? Can't whatever she wants to discuss wait?" I was clearly annoyed; I had to extend my meeting just because of this irrelevant message, I guess.

"I'm not sure if I can; she asked me to give you this," he said, drawing out a brown envelope from his back pocket before placing it on the table.

"What is this? I asked him, staring lostly at the envelope. I picked it up and tore it, pulling out the letter in it. My eyes glanced around at the content of the letter and kept growing wide as I read the content. My blood boiled, and I could feel anger waves rushing through my body.

“What nonsense Is this?” I asked angrily, banging hard on the table and making the drinks on it pour. My eyes were already bloodshot with anger.

What does this woman mean? I said it angrily, making Francis flinch at my voice. I scratched the nape of my neck frustratingly. How could I have forgotten about the five months she gave me to settle down? Yes, I knew I didn't have anybody I'm seeing yet, but what right did she have to give me a condition?

"If I can't provide a wife and still have company with myself after five months, I would have no other choice but to marry Hazel," who gives her such rights over me. I yelled angrily at Francis, pointing furiously at the letter lying peacefully on the table.

"I can't get married to the devil, and you know it, Francis. I know she loves me and all that, but I don't want her; I don't want any woman in my life; they are all bitches; I hate their sight; I don't care Hazel is my childhood friend; I still don't want her in my life. I hate ladies; I hate their genders; they are all liars and deceivers. How could a mother do this kind of thing to me, her only child?" I ranted frustratingly; anger oozed out of my body.

I felt a masculine hand on my shoulder, gazed up, and met Mr. Francis's face. He held a pitiful look and rubbed gently on my shoulder, as if he understood my predicament.

"It's fine, sir Kelvin. I understand you perfectly, but you know your mother would always go to great lengths to achieve what she wanted, and this is not an exception.

I yanked his hand away from my body angrily, shooting him a dead glare. "Not on me, Francis; I would not allow her to achieve whatever she is planning on me," I said angrily. "I'm done letting her have her ways with me; I'm not marrying Hazel, nor am I letting the company go," I said furiously, unsure of what I had just said, because Mr. Francis is right; whatever my mother eyes on, she will achieve it by all means necessary.

"I might have a way to make her stop pestering you, and you wouldn't have to marry Hazel," Francis said. My eyes sparked with rays of hope, and I faced him sharply, anxious about what he was about to say.

"What way? I asked, staring at him with a serious glare. At this point, I was ready for any option to leave those old witch claws.

"The only way out of this mess is if you marry not Hazel but a wife of your own; that way, you won't have to give up on your company or marry Hazel," he said, and I looked at him like he had just altered the most stupid thing ever.

"Can you listen to yourself, Francis? Me! Marry, why should I?" I let out a chuckle. Is he being serious right now? I hate lying monsters around, and he knows it.

"I know you dislike women and don't see them as good people, but then you don't have to be in a loving marriage; it would be a loveless marriage. You give her your terms, she gives you your conditions, and the only thing joining you two together would be the title you both share, which is she being your wife and you being her husband," he explained, leaving me in my own peal of thoughts.

"I would think about it," I said to him after a long silence. I picked up my briefcase and left my suite. My mind kept wandering to what Francis had said. I only had two weeks until the end of the five months, which means I have less than two weeks to make my decision.

"The idea he gave wasn't that bad, but could I cope?" I asked myself inwardly as I made my way to the office.