chapter three
1038 Words
Edward stepped out of his sleek Mercedes Benz and strode toward the imposing Marion Mansion. His father, Arthur, had summoned him for a talk - an all too familiar excuse that usually ended in an argument. Nevertheless, Edward decided to show up.
As he entered the grand hallway, he spotted both his mother and father waiting for him.
"You made it,” Arthur remarked, spotting Edward. " We’ve been waiting forever, you know.”
" Let’s not start. You know how busy I’ve been lately,” Edward replied, rolling his eyes.
" Busy?” Arthur scoffed. " Busy wasting your potential on music, when you should be channeling it into the family business.” He exchanged a look with his wife before fixing Edward with a cold stare. “Have you really forgotten your responsibilities?”
" You have no right to judge me, Arthur,” Edward shot back. " Let’s not forget I’m doing perfectly well without you or the company. Don’t forget who I am—I’m Edward Marion.”
" I gave you that name. I made you who you are.”
“No, I built my own legacy. My name means something because of what I’ve achieved—not because of you or your company. Neither of you can match me,” Edward retorted.
Amber, Edward’s mother, interjected, “This isn’t why we invited him here, Arthur.”
" Well, it’s part of it. I’m ashamed of what he’s doing with his life.”
“I don’t care what you think,” Edward said sharply, ignoring his mother as he turned away. “This is always pointless.” With that, he strode out.
“How dare you walk out on us!” Arthur shouted, his voice trembling with anger as Edward disappeared through the door. “He’s got some nerve. How is it possible that he’s one of the top ten most successful men in the world?”
Amber looked at her husband coolly. “Are you jealous of your own son now?”
Arthur rolled his eyes and walked away in silence.
---
As Riya finished her shift at the bar, her usual exhaustion was replaced by a spark of hope. Earlier that day, a man named Mark—the same Mark her friend Laura had mentioned—had stopped by. He handed her a crisp business card and told her to call if she ever needed help.
At first, Riya suspected he was just another man looking for something. But later, she learned he was simply a philanthropist known for helping those in need.
Standing at the quiet bus terminal, Riya pulled out Mark’s card, her thoughts racing.
" What will I even ask for if I call him? A million dollars? Enough to start my own business? Or maybe just a car, so I don’t have to keep waiting for buses" She sighed, noticing the terminal was empty.
“Looks like I have to wait another half hour,” she muttered to herself, sinking onto the bench, hope and anxiety twisting together in her chest. It was past ten; she decided she’d call Mark tomorrow and tucked the card safely into her bag.
Just then, a bus pulled up. Riya quickly boarded, her mind still swirling with possibilities.
---
Edward pulled his car to the side of the road and grabbed his phone, which had been buzzing incessantly.
“You found her?” he asked, gripping the steering wheel tightly.
“She already left, boss. We tried calling you,” a voice replied on the other end.
“What? Why didn’t you stop her?” Edward snapped.
“We know where she works. We’ll bring her to the house tomorrow. The police are around right now, and we don’t want it to look like a kidnapping.”
“Make sure she comes—with or without her consent,” Edward ordered, ending the call and immediately answering another incoming call.
“Ed, the president’s demanding we change how the stadium is being used. I don’t think we can let the strippers in anymore ” Mark reported nervously.
“What the hell are you talking about? How did the president find out?” Edward asked, his jaw clenched.
“He saw the flyers and billboards—it’s obvious what’s planned.”
“Get him to accept it, Mark. People are coming in from Spain and all over the world. They paid good money—the women, the party, everything. Don’t screw this up.”
“Ed, I’m not sure what to do—”
“I pay you to figure it out. Some of my friends are arriving tonight for tomorrow’s concert. This can’t fall apart.” Without waiting for a response, Edward hung up.
He muttered to himself, “A hundred thousand wild fans. I give them what they want—drugs, women—and I make my money.” Then he pushed the accelerator and sped off.
---
Before long, Riya stood outside her apartment. She let out a sigh as she tried the door—locked.
“Is James not back yet?” she murmured, annoyance flickering across her face. “He’s probably still out, being irresponsible.” After several unanswered knocks, she considered heading to Laura’s when suddenly she heard James’s trembling voice from inside.
“Riya? Is that you?"
“Yes, open up!” she called, growing impatient. After a moment, James opened the door and yanked her inside, slamming it and hurriedly shoving a table against it.
“What on earth are you doing?” Riya demanded, confused by his urgency.
“Keep your voice down!” James whispered, eyes darting nervously.
Riya’s concern escalated. “What’s going on?”
James trembled. “Ben’s boys... They were here.”
“Ben’s boys? They came here?” Riya rushed to check the kids’ room, fear clawing at her chest. The bed was empty. “Where are my children?” she shouted.
“Say something!” She flicked on the light and gasped. James’s face was battered, swollen and bruised. “What happened to you—and where are my kids?” The pain in her voice was unmistakable as she waited, heart pounding, for James’s answer .
- Writer
