The Alpha's False Mate

CHAPTER 4: Her New Step

Since my plan to kill myself has failed and my father’s hospital debts are paid, the strain in my chest has been dislodged for now. Still, it’s hard to feel happy about it. I may not need to worry about the 2.3 million pesos, but what about the future bills? The longer my father stays here, the higher the chances of me finding myself in this same unwanted situation again. A long exasperated sigh clears off me. I shake my head to dismiss the thought. It’ll take days or perhaps weeks before the hospital hounds me again. Until then, I’ll relax.

I rise from the stool and take back my wallet that I placed in my father’s hand earlier, then tuck it inside my pocket. Papa's face is so peaceful and his breathing is calm, it’s as if he’s just resting after a long day at work.

“I’ll be back later, papa.”

I bend my waist forward to press a kiss on his forehead. The tiny confidence I gained after receiving some help is immediately smashed when I step out of the room. All eyes are directed at me, specifically to the floor I’m standing on. I lower my gaze to follow their line of sight, then chuckle inwardly when my dirty bare feet capture my sight. I return my gaze to the people around, then jerk my shoulders as I say without a vestige of enthusiasm,

“Hey, s.hit happens sometimes.”

All of them quickly turn their heads away from me and pretend to be busy with whatever they're doing. The nurses at the counter look at their computer screens while the patients’ relatives prattle to one another. Now that they make me remember that I don’t have a pair of shoes on, I must bend over backwards to get out of this hospital and go home. As I amble away from my father’s room, I hear someone from behind calling my name.

“Ms. Gil… Ms. Gil.”

I rotate to find out who it is. It’s a man in a three-piece black suit with an earplug attached to one ear. I don’t know him or ever saw him before. How come he knows my name? His attire kinda reminds me of the tall man who's with Mr. Acosta on the rooftop. I stare at him without budging as he comes closer.

“Here. Take this,” he says, extending an average-sized paper bag to me.

My eyebrows knit as my head tries to guess what’s inside the bag and why a stranger would offer me something. I peer through his thick heavily tinted sunglasses to at least figure out what’s running through his head, but I couldn’t see his eyes. If I base my judgment on his presence, he doesn’t seem harmful like Mr. Chua. Even so, he's still a stranger. I spend a long time studying him, which prompts him to take the chance of introducing himself .

“I apologize for making you feel uneasy. My name is Clark, one of Mr. Lavine Acosta’s bodyguards. He ordered me to give this to you.”

For the second time, I look at the paper bag, still refusing to touch it. I ask, “What’s inside?”

“I have no idea. I didn’t look,” he replies with his arm still stretched forward.

Out of curiosity, I get the bag from him, then say ‘wait!’ when he’s about to leave.

“I need to know what this is for. So please stay.”

He nods without complaint and stands straight in front of me while my hand digs into the bag. The first thing my hand grabs is a box. Without the need to open it, the brand that's printed on its lid says it all – it’s a pair of shoes by Louis Vuitton. My hesitation to accept it squirms through my skin. However, my desperation for a pair of footwear wins over that hesitation.

“Thanks. But it doesn’t need to be this expensive.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing to Mr. Acosta.”

Nothing? Squandering his hard-earned money for a ‘nobody’ like me is nothing to him? I can’t even treat myself to a fast food chain these past couple of weeks! But he, a multi-billionaire, is willing to waste his money anyhow he pleases. I envy his success and lifestyle to the core of my soul.

“Is there something else that you need, Ms. Gil?”

“Cloette. Just Cloette.”

“Can I go now, Cloette?”

Though Clark’s tone doesn’t discharge any form of sarcasm, his smirk tells me otherwise. If it’s indeed a sarcastic smirk, I don’t feel irritated at all. Perhaps he’s just trying hard to appear and sound friendly, only that he's unsuccessful.

“Can I ask you a favor?”

He uncurls his lips, which makes me wanna retract my question.

“It depends on what kind of favor you want?”

“It isn’t much. I just wanna personally thank Mr. Acosta for all of his help. Can I meet him?”

Without giving too much thought to my request, Clark responds, “I’ll tell him that myself. Anything else?”

Yeah, there are so many things that I’d love to know about him, like what he’s doing here? Why is he helping me? And where did the two wolves on the rooftop go? These questions continue to nag me, but of course, for someone like Clark, these questions are nothing but just nonsensical stuff. Instead of spitting my thoughts, I let it stick on the roof of my mouth.

“I have nothing else to ask.”

“Well then, I’ll take my leave.”

While Clark saunters through the corridor, I make my way towards the restroom. The instant my eyes lay on the huge mirror in front of me, I can’t help but to release another stiff breath. Horrendous! That's the best word to describe how I look. Some strands of my hair aren’t tucked properly in my loose ponytail, my shirt is wrinkled on its hem and my face looks terribly exhausted. After splashing some cool water on my face, I then clean my feet with some soaked tissues before putting on the pair of sneakers, which are quite large for my size. The Louis Vuitton logos printed across its brown cotton surface might be enough for people to reduce their pity for me. I almost laugh at the thought. I may have expensive shoes on my feet, but the torment in my eyes can never disappear unless my father wakes up from a coma and helps me earn a living so I could eat and live properly while pursuing my dream job – becoming a flight attendant on the world's best airlines.

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

It’s around three in the morning when I get home and around seven o’clock when I get the chance to see what other stuff is inside the bag Clark had given me. There’s a bowl of seafood pasta and a cup of pineapple juice. Did I look that hungry last night that Mr. Acosta easily figured out that I hadn't eaten anything? Though the pasta isn’t warm and the juice isn’t cold, they’re edible and tasty. On top of that, they’re free. So, who am I to complain?

After breakfast, I take a bath, then put on my blue uniform. I couldn't be more excited about going to my workplace where I expect to meet Mr. Acosta again. Aside from wanting to extend my gratitude for his generosity, for some strange reasons, I'm also eager, impatient even, to see his face again. My heart clouts my chest the more I think about this guy that I’ve only met twice. It’s undeniable that he’s extremely attractive, probably the most handsome man I’ve ever encountered. There’s more than his appearance, of course. There’s something in him that I’m drawn into. I just couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it is. All I know is that I wanna see him again… and again… and again.

Rings snap me out of my thoughts and when I veer my attention to my phone, anxiety bustles through me.

[Don’t forget about me, coz I’m not forgetting about you.]

Every detail of my shameful and horrific action flashes through my mind uncontrollably. Mr. Chua’s rough touches on my body, his nasty saliva on my skin and his foul odorous breath on my face are coming back to haunt me. He could attack me effortlessly in this shabby apartment if he chooses to. My neighbors or my landlord wouldn’t care even if I scream for help, especially if there’s gonna be money involved. In addition to that, this place doesn’t have a single surveillance camera for security purposes. The only things that this place has are rats scampering on the low-worn ceiling and roaches crawling on the kitchen sink at night.

While locking the wooden door, I keep reminding myself to be vigilant. Mr. Chua’s message is clear. It may seem to be a normal message of a suitor wooing a female, but after what happened last night, I’m in no doubt that it’s nothing normal. It’s a threat. He'll get back to me any time soon.

The click and clang of my padlock are followed by deliberately heavy footsteps from behind me. I jolt. For a second, I thought it's Mr. Chua, but when I turn around, it's someone not as dangerous as him, but still gives me chills whenever she appears in front of my door - my landlord.

"Good morning, Ms. Lolit!" I say, faking a delighted tone.

No matter how much I stretch and curl my lips to pacify her grumpy face, it's no use. Her saggy cheeks only sag further as she hands me a white envelope. I take it but don't make an effort to open it. There's no need to. I know exactly what's inside - another bill that's due.

"I'll give you two days to pay your rent. If you can't pay the full amount, then you need to pack your belongings and go."

Ms. Lolit's instructions are straightforward. Not only does her stare cold, but her voice is apparently annoyed. Why wouldn't she? I haven't paid my rent for three months. A big chunk of my salary goes to St. Luke's Hospital, some goes for water and electricity bills and the remainder is for my cheap and unhealthy meals.

"I'll try to pay you this time."

That's a lie and Ms. Lolit knows it. She rests her knuckles on her waist as her eyes roll. She says,

"Try? Don't. Do it! I won't have mercy on you this time around!"

Without waiting for my response, she turns her heels and strides her short legs away from me. My stomach tightens. That tightness travels to my hand, causing it to crumple the envelope it's holding. I need a second job. There's only one person that I could think of who could help, and that's Mr. Acosta.

I draw out a rigid breath while flopping my shoulders. Here I am again, thinking that my luck always depends on someone else instead of trusting my own ability to rise from my misfortunes. It's not that I'm gonna sell my body just like what I almost did to Mr. Chua. Fingers crossed that Mr. Acosta could offer me another job apart from cleaning his hotel rooms.