Chapter 541
(Author’s POV)
’How can someone be so entitled and rude?’ Myra thought as she rubbed the abrasion on her arm. ’Forget it. Let’s not spoil my mood because of irrelevant people.’ She was entering the building when her phone started to buzz.
She glanced at the display; it was a call from Fabian. Surprised, she at once picked it up as his deep voice came from the other side, “Hello, Myra~ ….”
“Fab~ …” She suddenly looked around, then lowered her voice, almost whispering, her other hand covering her mouth, “Fabian, what’s up?”
“Sorry for yesterday. Ummm~ …. you told me you were rejoining your classes from today. So, I called to check up on you,” he replied. “You could have taken one more day off.”
“No need to apologize. And I had just made it to my department building. You must be busy, with all the guests coming to see Chairman Larson, hmm?” she inquired.
“Yeahh~ …. sort of. It’s going to be a really long and busy day,” he commented, sounding tired as a stifling yawn escaped his mouth. Truth be told, he hadn’t slept a wink all night. His incomplete proposal, Jacob’s waking up and calling for an abrupt clan leader meeting to discuss his successor. Everything was weighing on his mind. Plus, today was his parents’ death anniversary, so he had been feeling down and wanted to talk to Myra.
“Good luck with it. It is going to be pretty hectic for you,” Myra added. A student walked by her, grazing her abrashed arm. “Ouchhh~ …. tskkk~ ….” She winced.
“What happened, Myra? Are you hurt?” Fabian got up from the chair, ready to be by her side.
But Myra played it casual, “Ohh~ … it’s nothing serious. I was being careless and scraped my arm.”
“Myra~ …. even an abrasion can cause infection if not treated in a timely manner. Go to the infirmary and treat it first~ … or better, I’ll come to take you to see the doctor,” Fabian spoke; he sounded like William.
“Hahaha~ ….” Myra couldn’t help but laugh. “Hang on~ … hang on. I am alright. Seriously. If anything, I will visit the infirmary, Mr. Worrywart, ohk? Haha~ …”
Fabian’s face flushed; he was a bit abashed.
Myra was standing outside her class, so she said, “Fabian, I have reached my class. If there isn’t anything else, I’ll talk to you later, hmm~ …”
Fabian had a sudden urge, so he spat, “Myra~ wait.”
Myra, who was about to disconnect the call, queried, “What is it?”
“I~ … I~ …” initially, he fumbled. “The thing I wanted to say to you~ …. Umm~ …. can we meet after your classes are over? I really need to tell you something important,” he spoke.
“Umm~ … why not? Where should we meet?” she readily agreed.
“Our usual place~ …. after all your classes are done,” he uttered.
“Cool, I will see you then,” Myra said and disconnected the call as she entered the class. When she entered, she noticed something odd. There were not many students. She checked the time as her brows wrinkled; she spoke to herself, “The class is about to start. Why hasn’t everyone arrived yet?” She walked to one of the available students and asked. To which he answered, “They are on leave.”
“That many?” Myra asked in disbelief.
“Yeah~ …” he answered as Zachary made his way to the class. When he saw Myra, a smile appeared on his face as he remarked, “Myra, my star student. You are finally back. How are you feeling now?”
“Thank you for your concern, Prof. Zachary. I am doing much better now,” she answered.
“Good, good. Go and take your seat,” he said. Myra did as she was told and once again looked around. It was weird that the usually packed room had only half the students in it. She then recalled~ … even on her way, in the corridor, there were fewer and fewer people. “What day is it today? Some sort of communal holiday?”
“Ohk class~ … so last time~ …”
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On the other side, Fabian’s eyes were glued to his phone ever since the call got disconnected. Before making the call, he had no plan to ask Myra to meet. But he had been having this feeling of unease since yesterday. There was a voice nagging, screaming inside him, telling him that something ominous was going to happen. He linked it to Myra… and just wanted to let her know about his feeling. Fuck the venue~ … fuck the time~ …. He wasn’t going to wait any longer. His patience had finally run out.
Today, after her classes~ … he was going to confess to Myra for sure. He was determined to stake his claim and have what was his.
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“Sir, there is a black Bugatti that has been following us for half an hour from the shadows? Should I shake it off or should I confront it?” Oliver asked as he kept an eye on the other vehicle.
“Let it be for now~ … if it doesn’t change its route in another five minutes~ … speed up,” Garry commanded. They were on their way to the airport. His flight back to Damona was in two hours.
Oliver nodded as he slowed the car down a bit, testing the hidden vehicle. To their utter surprise, the Bugatti sped up, overtook them and went about its business. “I apologise, sir; it was just a false alarm,” he murmured. He drove at its normal speed.
Garry didn’t say anything as he looked out of the window. The passing skyscrapers, the bustling roads, the praiseworthy infrastructure nothing interested him. What caught his eye was a little girl with two ponies. Her one hand was held by her mother while the other one was clasped by her father as she jiggled her head from left to right, happily. A sorrowful, almost regretful expression flashed across his face.
They soon entered the forest road leading to the airport. There was no vehicle in sight. Both Oliver and Garry chalked it down to the solstice.
Soon, Oliver noticed something. He narrowed his eyes and saw a black car speeding up from the other direction and heading straight towards them. It was the same Bugatti that was following them. It wasn’t a coincidence.
His eyes widened as he panicked and tried to avoid the bulldozing vehicle. He turned the wheel around as quickly as possible, trying to move out of the way. “Sir, watch out,” he blurted out, in an attempt to caution Garry. But~ …. his abrupt actions were met with a ghastly ending as their vehicle rammed into a nearby tree trunk with a loud bang.
To Be Continued . . . . . . . . .