My Lord Alpha

Trading Places

Nashville, Tennessee.

7:40 p.m.

Bernice rinsed off the last shampoo from her hair before turning off the shower. Stepping out from outside the bathtub, she reached for her white towel and used it to wrap around her wet body.

Whoof, that was one hot, sweet shower to wash off the day's stress from her body. She took a small white face towel from the metal hanger, dabbing her face frantically, and she hummed a 'Close to You' by Carpenters. Then getting lost in the rhythm of the song, she burst out singing as she grabbed her shampoo tube and made a microphone imitation out of it. Swaying her hips and whipping her wet hair back and forth, she danced out of the bathroom.

"Why do birds suddenly appear every time you are near?

just like me, they long to be close to you

Why do stars fall down from the sky every time you walk by?

Just like me, they long to be close to you…."

Bernice stopped in her tracks as she noticed a figure, dressed in black, sitting in the dark, on a chair in her living room. She froze as fear crawled up her spine, her mind racing. Wondering what to do, she grabbed a mop that rested against the wall, clutching it in a defensive position, she switched on the light.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?" she asked putting the mop in front of her.

"You put on quite a show, really entertaining," a calm baritone voice muttered.

The room light heightened his features, he was a fine-looking man dressed all in black. A black leather jacket sat snuggled around long biceps, and a black polo with a V-cut neck hugged a firm muscled chest. Black denim jeans adorned with long legs fitting perfectly in black moccasins. His hair was ginger red, with unruly curls, and his eyes were light amber. A narrow face, firm lips, and a well-structured nose rounded up his features. Everything he was wearing looked to be designer, he looked exotic and exuded an aura of wealth.

After her brief appraisal of him, she didn't think he was a thief. So, what was he doing in her tiny apartment?

"You didn't answer my question, who are you and how did you get in here?" she asked again.

"My name is Rojan Baltasar, I have a message for you Bernice Griffin," he responded.

She grimaced. "How do you know my name? What message is that and from who?"

He held up a hand "Slow down, there's no need to rush. I would explain everything to you,"

"Start talking," She pointed the mop at him.

A low chuckle escaped his lips "Are you planning on assaulting me with a mop?"

"I am a white belt holder in karate, do not underestimate the power of my mop," she retorted.

Rojan looked like he was struggling to hold back a laugh. "I see, how impressive," he said then turned serious. "I have a message from Candice."

Her mop fell to the ground "Candice? Do you know where she is? She has been missing for weeks now. I reported the case and the police have been searching everywhere for her,"

" Do not fret, she is in good hands," he assured her.

"What do you mean by that? Where is she? I want to see her immediately. Are you holding her hostage?" she bombarded him with questions.

Without answering any more questions, he pulled out a large suitcase that she hadn't noticed before and unlocked it. Inside were stacks of cash, thousands of dollar bills neatly arranged in rolls.

Her eyes widened at the sight.

"This is from Candice, she requests that you pay this into her account, print a statement of account, and hand me a copy to take back to her" he casually narrated.

Bernice stared at the cash bewildered. "This is-is from Candice? How much is in here?"

"Twelve million, five hundred US dollars," he replied nonchalantly.

"Whaaat?!" she exclaimed.

Bernice had never seen so much money in cash in real life. She had seen figures, but not this much cash, and it never ever did belong to her or Candice. Something fishy was definitely going on here.

"If this money is really from Candice, then where is she? Why would she send you instead of coming herself when she knows I'll be worried sick looking for her? She disappeared when she went to meet up with the CEO of Hayden's Construction company. The police findings show that such a company doesn't exist and the whole meeting set-up was a big scam."

Rojan listened to her quietly.

"Now before I call the cops, tell me where my friend is and what you have done with her?" she demanded.

He looked unaffected by her police threat. Instead, he relaxed more on her couch. "I understand why you must feel anxious about your friend. But I assure you she is currently living better than you are if these accommodations are a testament to your living conditions."

Instead of feeling offended, she pushed her wet hair to the side and squared her shoulders. "I can't accept the money, there are reasons why I can't just take it. First of all, I need evidence that says my friend is alive and well. Secondly, I need to know the source of this money, if it's legal or illegal. Thirdly, this is the United States of America. I can't just show up at the bank with over twelve million dollars in cash. I have to take it in small bits or clean the money by showing business transactions…"

"I can help you with that," he cut in.

"The most important part is proving that Candice is alive and well…" She was still speaking when she saw his ear twitch twice, then his eyebrows furrowed in a frown.

She continued, "As I was saying…"

"Shush" he put a finger to his lips to signal her to stop talking as he listened with his ears twitching.

She inclined her ear too, trying to hear whatever he seemed to be listening to. She couldn't hear anything for some minutes, then some footsteps became audible to her as they approached her doorstep.

A few minutes later, her doorbell rang.