Isla
I'd been frantically trying to reach Arden all night, but his phone was unreachable. Worried sick, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was terribly wrong. The more I learned about the Normans' far-reaching influence, the more my anxiety grew.
Had they harmed him? The thought haunted me.
As morning dawned, I tried calling again, my heart racing with every ring. Finally, his phone connected, and someone answered.
"Hello?" Arden's deep voice answered.
"Hello, is this Arden?" I asked, seeking confirmation.
"Yes," he replied.
"Hey, Arden. It's Isla," I said, relief washing over me. "Hope you're doing well? I've been trying to reach you, and I was worried sick."
There was an unsettling silence.
"Arden? Can you hear me?" I asked, my concern growing.
"I'm at the state police station," he said flatly.
"Why?" I asked, my heart racing.
"I got arrested for assault," he explained. "It's related to the altercation with that guy the other night. It's a mess."
I gasped. "What?! Oh no, this is all my fault!"
"I have no influence, how can I help?" I thought, feeling helpless.
But before I could even process my next move, a stern voice cut in, "That's enough!" The line went dead, and the call disconnected.
Determined to act, I decided to visit Arden and do whatever I could to support him. I hastily requested early leave from my part-time job at the restaurant, and my boss agreed.
My bag's contents shifted as I lifted it, revealing Arden's card. The card's sleek design framed the bold text: "Arden Davis, Head of Marketing Strategy"
I quickly exited, grabbed a cab, and headed to the police station. Taking a deep breath, I gathered my courage and walked in.
"Good morning," I said to the front desk officer. "I'm here to see Arden Davis. He was arrested for assault."
The officer's expression remained neutral. "There's no one by that name here."
I persisted, "But sir, Arden is my friend. We spoke just a few moments ago."
The officer's tone remained firm. "Miss, I assure you, there's no record of an Arden Davis."
I pleaded, "Please, can I at least see him?"
The officer hesitated, then made a brief call before nodding curtly. "Follow me."
As I entered, I saw Arden sitting with his head bowed. "Hey Arden," I said, feeling a pang of guilt.
He looked up, and his face brightened. Standing, he grasped the cell bars, his eyes locking onto mine. "Hey."
I noticed his disheveled appearance. "How long have you been here?"
"Since yesterday morning," he replied.
I winced. "Crap, I..."
Arden chuckled, noticing my guilt-ridden expression. "Please, wipe that look off your face. I'm gonna feel bad."
I managed a weak smile. "You still have time to tease."
"I'm not teasing," he said
"I'm sorry, you wouldn't be in this mess if I'd..." I said my tone laced with regret.
Arden's expression turned resolute. "Don't apologize. I'm glad I gave him those punches – they matched his ego."
"Have you contacted a lawyer?" I asked.
Arden's expression turned wry. "Ironically, my lawyer refused to take the case."
"What? Why?" I pressed.
"Norman's family is involved," he explained. "The guy's from an incredibly influential family. His mom's determined to make me pay, and she's the one who initiated the arrest."
I gasped. "My goodness."
Arden shrugged. "I need a new lawyer, but no one wants to touch this case."
"Can't you find someone willing to take it on?" I asked.
Arden's eyes met mine. "I'd be grateful if you could help me find one. But everyone says it's pointless."
"I think giving it a shot is sensible," I countered.
Arden nodded slowly. "Yeah."
"I doubt it'll be effective," Arden said, frustration etched on his face. "My lawyer refusing to take the case is troubling."
I studied him, and my anger resurfaced. Just nights ago, he'd been handsome and charming, now unjustly behind bars. Why do good people suffer?
My thoughts turned to Rex, his flirtatious advances now nauseating. His smug, entitled behaviour fueled my anger.
"No," I resolved silently. "I won't stand for this. Arden stood up for me, a stranger. Now it's my turn."
I refocused on Arden, resolve solidifying within me.
"The one who deserves to be behind bars isn't you," I said firmly.
Arden's eyes locked onto mine, filled with appreciation. "Don't worry, I'll find a way," I reassured him.
"Thanks, your visit means everything," he said, his voice filled with gratitude.
My cheeks flushed. "I'm invested in this, so..."
Arden smiled.
" I will be back, I promise," I said before leaving.
My plan was audacious, but I didn't care. I stood outside the Proxima Group's headquarters, Norman's billion-dollar empire. This was my only chance to confront the Normans.
"What if I get arrested too?" a nagging voice whispered in my mind.
But my frustration and determination silenced the doubt. I was resolute.
As I approached the imposing skyscraper, its grandeur momentarily distracted me from my anger. The sheer scale and luxurious design undoubtedly reflected the Norman family's immense wealth.
Scanning the entrance, I spotted two figures exiting the building. My heart raced as I recognized Rex among them.
Without hesitation, I hastened towards him. The other man opened the car door, and Rex stepped inside. Just as they were about to drive away, I sprinted forward, positioning myself in front of the vehicle. The car screeched to a halt mere inches from me.
Rex
I woke up stressed, still reeling from the previous night's dinner with Nicole and her family. The evening had been a strained balancing act of business and social niceties, leaving me feeling suffocated.
As soon as Nicole's family departed, my father's tone turned stern. "Rex, get yourself together and report to the company tomorrow."
I dreaded the prospect. My father's words echoed in my mind: "Once I'm gone, how do you expect to run my businesses without any experience?" His familiar lecture.
As soon as he left for an external meeting, I seized my chance. "I'm stepping out," I informed my assistant, feigning boredom with the day's tasks.
"Let's go," I ordered, settling into the car.
My driver accelerated, then slammed on the brakes, throwing me off balance.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I snapped, irritation rising.
"Sorry, sir. Someone suddenly blocked our path," he explained.
"Move them, then. Can't you see I'm busy?" I growled.
My driver honked, but the person approached, tapping on the windshield.
Curiosity piqued, I lowered the tinted glass.
"Can we help you?" my driver asked.
"I'm here for Rex Norman. Please, this doesn't concern you," she said, her gaze locked intently on mine.
My driver reached for his phone. "I'll call security, sir."
"Wait," I intervened. "I'd like to hear what she has to say."
"Now you have my attention," I said, leaning forward.
Isla scoffed, her expression tinged with disdain. My gaze roamed her face, searching for a connection. Suddenly, recognition sparked.
"You don't seem to remember me, do you?" she asked, sarcasm dripping from her words.
"State your business," I replied, curiosity piqued.
"I'm Isla Jerkins," she began, her voice firm. "We met at the Vintage Club, where you made unwanted advances."
Her words struck a chord. Memories flooded back – the night I'd pursued her, only to
be interrupted by that nuisance.
I settled back, intrigued. "And what brings you here, Isla?"
Her blazing gaze held mine, fueled by determination and a hint of retribution.