Chapter 21: Chapter 21



Meg's POV

I stared at my phone in shock.

Charles had cut the phone on me the moment I had mentioned my name. He couldn't even pretend for a minute to hear me out.

"Why did you even call him?" I asked myself.

Maybe I had hoped he'd be more receptive to me after the kiss we shared. Maybe I had hoped we could maybe start something akin to friendship. I didn't want things to be completely sour between us when my plan fell through. But the bastard decided to fuck it up by hanging up on me.

"We'll just have to do it the hard way then." I hissed in anger as I flung my phone across the room, scattering the screen as it crashed on the opposite wall.

"Fuck!" I screamed at the ceiling. I didn't need this right now. I needed to focus on the next stage of my plans. I needed to rest.

The trip from Abuja to Lagos had been a damn hectic one. I had been huddled in a cramped bus with crying kids, and people talking over their heads. Even though I had tried to block everyone out and sleep, the heavy noise couldn't be ignored. By the time that trip had ended, I was agitated, frustrated, hungry and horny. It was the worst ride of my life.

I had dragged my exhausted self to a reasonably priced motel, one that the Internet had recommended for me. It was classic and simple, It also had a bar and a swimming pool too. When I had discovered it, I hadn't believed the price until I was lodged in. I was so fucking grateful to technology for creating the Internet. God knows I had slept in worse places.

The sound of my phone ringing jutted my mind back to the present, making me aware of my surroundings. With a sigh, I went to my broken phone and picked it up. The screen was damaged, so I couldn't see who was calling. After a few rings, I picked. "Hello?"

"Meg, it's me." The voice said, and I immediately recognised it.

"Talk."

"It's done." He replied, pride lacing his voice for a job well done.

"Good," I said and dropped the call. Not giving him the appreciation he so desperately craved.

"Yes!" I sighed and placed the phone on the bedside table, carefully this time, and threw myself on the soft bed. I would be useless if dead or burned out. So I was going to get some deserved sleep, then carry on planning. But this time, there will be no sparing Charles. He was going to pay for how he treated me.

And he was going to pay with his ring on my finger.

************

Charles' POV.

I stared at the phone in my hand, which was still on from Meg's call a few seconds ago.

How on earth had she found my number? What the heck was she playing at? I thought I was rid of her after I left Abuja. So many possibilities kept swirling around my head.

The moment I had heard her say, 'Meg,' I had immediately dropped the call as if the phone had burned me. I knew the girl was desperate, but now I was beginning to wonder to what extent exactly? I had to call her hotel management to report her behaviour because, at this point, my privacy was being threatened.

I stood up from my bed and began preparing to leave the house. It would be better if I went to the office now and occupy my mind with work. Rather than stay here and muse to death.

I decided on a blue sweatshirt and grey pants, styled my hair, picked up my shades, wallet, cars keys, and stepped into the hallway.

"Where is Charles?" I heard a very familiar voice ask, halting me in my tracks.

"He should be in his room sir," Mary replied as she turned the corner into my hallway, followed by my father.

Shit!

Dread filled me as I saw him approaching me. There was nothing, and no one, I hated more than Edward Harrell. It was just so unfortunate that he had to be the man that was available when seeds were needed to create me.

As he approached me, with Mary on his trail, I unpinned myself from the static position I had fallen into and locked my room door. Then I proceeded towards the staircase without even glancing at him. Ignoring him had always given me satisfaction. It got him mad and made me happy. Lord knows the man was infuriating and as stubborn as I was, If not more.

"Charles." I heard him thunder seconds after I brushed past him. I stopped, my back still to him and asked, "What is it, old man?"

"You are to face me when I call you boy!" He exploded, and instinctively my back stiffened.

"Who the fuck is your boy?" I calmly asked, not bothering to turn because I didn't want to see his disgusting face. And I also knew it irritated him to no end. "It seems you are down with schizophrenia. Have you gone to the hospital lately? Because you seem to be hallucinating." I sneered.

"Watch your tongue boy, I'm still your--"

"Oh please, " I scoffed, spinning around to face him. "Don't finish that word, because if you do, I'm definitely going to puke."

His eyes clashed with mine, and I threw him a smirk that was heavily laced with hatred.

When he didn't give a comeback or sneaky remark as I had expected him to, I decided to push more of his buttons. "Don't you feel like throwing up whenever you call yourself a father? Because when I look at you, all I see is a disgrace to Manhood."

I could see his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. His hands clenching and unclenching, his lips set on a thin line. Now we were getting somewhere.

"If not for your mother--" He began, but I didn't let him finish his sentence. I couldn't. I knew exactly where he was headed and it wasn't pretty.

"Oh go fuck yourself, Edward."I drawled darkly, cutting short whatever bullshit he was about to spill. I was done with this shit. Not waiting to hear a response from him, I turned and whizzed down the stairs in a blur, and as I did, I could faintly hear him throwing profanities at Mary.

"Oh, dear." I thought to myself. Mary was going to be at the receiving end of his temper, and I was going to be at the receiving end of hers. She had never liked the way my relationship with my father was strained. She had always tried her best to make me see reason. She'd say, "Charles, be the mature one." But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't resist fucking with the man.

As I thundered past the foyer, I caught a glimpse of my mum by the corner. She had undoubtedly overheard the interaction between me and her husband. Without sparing her a second glance, I thundered out the door to my car and speed out of the compound. I had previously planned on going to the office, but as I speed down the busy street, I found myself heading towards the gang's favourite spot. Right now, all I freaking needed was a drink. A very strong one.

*****"""*****

I was pissed. And even though I had tried to mask it, the waiters at the lounge were still able to detect it. I ignored the sneaky glares they sent my way and focused on my beloved glass of whiskey.

How had my life gotten this fucked up? Where had I gone wrong?

From the very beginning. My mind snickered. I ignored it too.

Everything was failing me. My company, women, my family, everything! The only things I had left were my friends and my damn pride.

I sighed.

The fact that I have been here for just two hours, but had already drowned almost half a bottle of the whiskey on my table like it was water, was registered somewhere at the back of my mind. And subconsciously I knew I wasn't supposed to continue, but I just couldn't listen. Deep down, I wanted to drown myself in the bottle then face all of my failures.

As I lifted yet another glass of whiskey to my lips, a firm hand grabbed the glass away.

"You look like shit man." Alas! It was Paul. I'd recognize those sarcastic words anywhere.

"Give me my drink you sadistic fuck." I fired at him, trying to grab my drink from his firm grip.

"Another reason you won't be having it back," Paul said calmly.

I laughed at his antics. I wasn't in the mood for this.

"What's funny?" An amused Eric asked from behind me. Great! Now they were complete.

Before I could reply, Paul beat me to it. "He's drunk off his ass." And with a pause adds, "In the middle of the day."

"Fuck, what happened?" Eric asked with concern etched on his face.

When I looked up and saw the expression of true concern on both their faces, I began to regret transferring my anger on them. They were the only people in the world who gave two fucks about me.

"I am sorry guys. I am glad y'all came here at the time you did. I was pissed."

"Would you like to share?" Paul asked softly. I went ahead to narrate the whole ordeal with my father and the investors in Abuja.

"Shit man. Your day has been shitty." Paul finally said when I was done ranting.

"I know right! Everything is just going to shit Paul, I don't know what to do. As if that wasn't enough, Annabel-" I halted, snapping my mouth shut and berating myself for letting Annabelle slip.

"Oh no. You've got to complete that sentence man." Eric said, sitting up excitedly at the mention of a woman.

"Yeah, Annabelle?" Paul asked backing Eric up. The bastard.

Well, since I didn't have a choice, I narrated my Abuja experience with Amy, Annabelle, Meg and everything in between.

"So you are saying that you, Charles Harrell, rejected a free offer from a woman? That's incredible." Eric said, excitement and disbelief lacing his thick voice.

"In everything, I just said that was what you could pick? You-"

"Hello Charles," A voice interrupted. A very familiar voice. My heart stilled as I slowly lifted my eyes to soak in the figure that was in front of me. She looked at me with those alluring eyes of hers and smiled.

Shit!

"Annabelle?"

OOPS!