A Bullied Billionaire

Chapter 3

But that didn't happen because the following night, after Ed left for NAIA for his flight, she discovered that the money he had given her was missing.

Riri went to Marimar's room and braced herself for a confrontation. She confronted Marimar about taking her money.

"You look like a fire-breathing dragon," Marimar said.

"I'll tell your brother Ed if you don't return my money. It's from him."

"I know. Don't worry, I'll return it. Just shut your mouth, or I might punch you."

Riri just gritted her teeth and left the room.

As often happened, when Rex arrived at his rented apartment, he immediately got angry. His neighbors' dog was pooping in front of his unit's door again. His irritation grew when he saw how haphazardly they parked their car, occupying even his parking space.

"Damn those idiots, they're so shameless," he muttered angrily as he entered his apartment. "They even bought two motorcycles and parked them in their garage! They even put their huge aquarium in the garage, so they're occupying my parking space. So shameless!"

He'd told his neighbors countless times, but no matter how many times he asked, they wouldn't listen. He sighed. He felt defeated. He turned on his motorized hose, pulled it out, and sprayed the poop back towards his annoying neighbor's house.

Then, a mischievous idea popped into his head. He hurried back inside his apartment and went straight to the kitchen. He grinned widely as he opened the refrigerator. He took out the leftover adobo, the sauce now like jelly. He couldn't remember how many months it had been there—and he didn't care. In his opinion, the older, the better.

"I wonder if you won't be affected by this, you bastards," he said. He went to the sink and grabbed a bottle of Ajinomoto (MSG). He poured the entire contents into the adobo. If the adobo didn't become tastier with that much vetsin, he didn't know what would. He put it on a paper plate and mixed it with rice. He was still fuming when he went back outside. He was about to scold his neighbor's dog when he saw it lying on top of its owner's car. It was a stray dog and clearly always hungry. It was also covered in ticks because its owners were neglectful. The skinny stray dog wagged its tail excitedly when it approached him. He put the paper plate on the ground. The poor dog devoured the adobo greedily.

"Good boy," he said, grinning. Once he was sure the dog would finish the food, he went back to his kitchen, grabbed a beer bottle, and finished the contents, his real goal being the bottle itself. He returned to the garage. Using the bottle, he drew on the side of his inconsiderate neighbor's car. He even made the drawing obscene. Only then did he feel relieved. When he went back inside his apartment, he changed his clothes. He went to the kitchen and put spaghetti noodles on the stove before watering his plants. He felt lighter, having gotten back at his annoying neighbor. After watering, he relaxed. He turned on the air conditioning and browsed through architectural magazines while waiting for the pasta to soften. He still had leftover spaghetti sauce and would just heat it up when he was about to eat. He was just whistling when he heard one of his neighbor's children scream.

"Mom! What's this? I stepped on something!" He grinned. "Oh, what? Did you enjoy stepping on poop? Now you're the victims."

He was eating dinner while watching TV when he heard the maid on the other side calling the dog. He lowered the volume of his TV. He didn't hear a response from the dog. He smiled and turned the television volume back to normal.

After dinner, he went up to the attic, which served as his workshop. He started the initial sketch of his new project. He was thinking about the costing when his concentration was disturbed by noise from the next house.

"Oh my God—Obama! Ma'am, Obama!"

He straightened his back. Obama was his neighbor's dog. It wasn't originally named "Obama." It was "Rainier" or something. When Barack Obama became famous in world politics, the name of the stray dog was suddenly changed. He listened to the loud conversation from the next house.

"What happened? Why do you sound like you're being pulled by your nails?" a woman's voice said.

"Ma'am, it's Obama! He's unconscious! He's lying down in front of the garage next door."

Peeking through a small window on the side, he saw the car backing up. When it stopped, the maid hurriedly got into the back seat, carrying the unconscious Obama. It seemed they were taking the notorious dog to a veterinary clinic. After the car left, the entire compound suddenly became quiet.

He smiled and listened to music on his iPod. He hummed as he went back to his work. 30 minutes later, he curiously stood up again and looked out the window. His neighbor's car was just arriving. He saw the father get out, followed by his exhausted wife and her assistant. As they entered the house, the loud cries of the couple's children suddenly rang out.

He returned to his work table and continued drawing until he completely forgot about his mischief against his inconsiderate neighbors. Because of the immense relief of having one less problem, even though he felt a little guilty, he didn't feel any fear that the whole family might confront him about what happened to their dog. He was sure they hadn't yet discovered the drawing on the Nissan Sentra. If a war broke out tomorrow, he'd deal with it tomorrow. In the meantime, he would sleep soundly.

The next morning, when Rex left his house, he saw his fat neighbor frowning as he looked at the drawing on the side of his car, particularly at the drawing he had made with the beer bottle. He was less than ten years older than Rex, but he looked like he was 20 years older because he looked so old. He had a big belly and was balding.

"Good morning," Rex greeted him casually. "You're up early, Bogart."

"My dog died," Bogart said, shaking his head, completely oblivious to the culprit standing before him. "He must have eaten something last night when we took him for a walk to the basketball court. We took him to the vet, but he didn't make it."

"Is that so?" Rex said, still nonchalant. He was busy putting his laptop and containers of blueprints inside his car. "Yes, my kids loved Obama so much."

Rex almost grimaced. He hadn't witnessed how his children tortured the poor dog. His conscience was clear because he was convinced that what he did to Rainier-turned-Obama was "euthanasia," not "murder."

"And another thing, Rex…" Bogart continued wearily. "Someone scratched my car. They must have had fun while it was parked in front of the vet clinic."

"Maybe you were bothering someone, that's why that happened," Rex casually retorted.

"No, my maid noticed some rowdy teenagers hanging around the clinic's parking lot. Those kids are good for nothing. They're probably stray kids without parental guidance."

Rex looked at him directly. "That's a lesson, Pare. Maybe you should be more careful about where you park."

Bogart also looked at Rex's face. Rex thought he had finally understood what he was implying, so he didn't say anything. But after a moment, Bogart shook his head.

"There are just some shameless people."

Yes, like you—and like me. It was easy to say now, but he just shook his head to himself and got into his second-hand Honda Civic.

"See you, Pare," he said goodbye.

"See you, bro."

Before Rex could start his car, Bogart was already back inside his yard. While he was warming up the car engine, he thought of releasing the goldfish from his neighbor's aquarium to complete his revenge. But he realized it was too much trouble. He would have to trespass on their property to do that. As Rex was about to leave the compound, someone suddenly hit the back of his car. He braked suddenly. He glared as he looked around. Who was the i***t who dared to hit his beloved car? He got out and was about to confront the person when he bumped into the hard chest of a giant man.

Looking up, he confirmed who it was. He suddenly broke out in a cold sweat at the unexpected encounter, a ghost from his past.

"D-Dante?" he stammered.

"Good thing I caught you, Pare. How are you?" Dante's smile widened—and that made Rex even more nervous. He accepted the punishment fate had in store for him. Instant karma struck him at that moment for what he had done to his neighbor's car and poor dog. Dismayed, he went back to his car and parked it inside the compound again. He got out again and waited for his giant "best friend" to approach.

"What's up?" Dante asked. "Do you want me to take care of your sister?" Rex repeated what Dante had said as they sat at his four-seater dining table. He might have just overheard it.

"Yes, Pare," confirmed his muscular childhood friend from their hometown in San Juan, Batangas. He was now a bodybuilder. "My parents have been dead for a year. Remember I went abroad? I'm a fitness instructor in Saudi Arabia."

"Yes, I remember that," Rex said dejectedly. Rex was the one who lent him money for the placement fee three years ago. He still hadn't paid it back. "I came home because I heard bad news about my sister. Apparently, Marimar is having an affair with a married man!" Dante said angrily, hitting Rex on the shoulder. He was carried away with the story. "My sister, that face, would only end up with a man who has responsibilities in life? Hah!"

Rex felt his shoulder crack from the hit. "Wait—don't you have a sister? Aren't you four brothers—"

"My father brought Marimar home from America. Remember Dad was in the US Navy? He had a child in San Diego. When he came back, the woman gave him the child. He had nowhere to leave her, so he brought her home to Mom. You didn't meet her. Ka Ernie had already passed away then, and Ka Ligaya had already brought you to Quezon." "Ka Ernie" and "Ka Ligaya" were Rex's parents.

"Ah, we were about to start high school then."

"But the child was eight years old when she was brought to us. I'm the youngest, right? When my brothers joined the US Navy, Dad took Mom with him, so I was the one who took care of my sister while I was in college." "It seems you love your sister very much."

"She's affectionate," Dante smiled, seemingly very happy remembering his sister.

"Why don't you just leave her with your relatives in Batangas?"

"That's what I did when I went to Saudi Arabia, Pare. The problem is, she's stubborn and refuses to listen. I came home unexpectedly because my aunt almost cried, begging me to do something before it was too late. Before my sister got completely ruined, and before my uncles and aunts had heart attacks. So, I got involved," Dante said softly. He seemed like he was about to cry.

"How old is your sister?" Rex asked.

"Twenty-six," Dante answered. "You know, she's at the peak of her youth, so she's really attractive to men."

"Hmm… she seems to be," Rex muttered, thinking of his sister's name: Marimar. It sounded like a Mexican name.

He suddenly imagined Thalia. Marimar must be very tempting, which is why Dante was making so much effort to protect his sister. All the members of his family were fair-skinned. Suddenly, a Latina with a hibiscus flower in her ear, swaying her hips in his apartment, flashed in his mind…

"I'm sorry, Dante," Rex suddenly said. He had made up his mind to avoid temptation. "I might not be able to help you now."

"What did you say?" Dante suddenly grabbed him, pulling him closer. Rex was choked when Dante's large, muscular hands squeezed his throat. He tried to cough, but no air came out of his throat. "You won't help me, Pare?"

"I-it's not l-like that, b-but…" He couldn't finish speaking because he was short of breath.

"Pare, my Arab boss only allowed me a two-week vacation. I don't have time, so I want your answer now. You're the only one I can trust with my sister. If something happens to her, I'll make sure you'll pay." Dante tightened his grip on his collar.

Rex nodded repeatedly without thinking, just to be released, which Dante did. He coughed repeatedly and punched his own chest to get the air circulating in his lungs. He stood up and got some water to drink. Dante followed him inside the house.

"Are you okay, Pare?"

"What the hell, Pare?" Rex coughed again. "Are you going to kill me?"

"It's your fault," Dante said.

"I'm just saying I might not be able to watch over your sister because I'm always busy. I'm not home in the mornings, and I only get home late at night," Rex explained rapidly. "I told you before, it took me a long time to graduate and pass the board exam as an architect. You know I was a working student, so it took me a long time to finish my studies. Of course, I'm also building my own reputation. Then you want me to be a babysitter? You're being unreasonable, bro."

"Marimar has a nanny. You don't have to worry about her. All I want is someone who can scare away men interested in her. I know that besides me, you're the only one who can do that."

"Why don't you just send her back to America? That's where she was born, right? That means she's a US citizen."

"Her papers are complicated, Pare. They haven't been sorted out, so we've been waiting for years for her to go back to America."

"Bro, come on…"

"I'll only let her stay here for a while, Pare. Once she forgets about her married boyfriend—or when my brothers come home."

"How will they come home, aren't they in the US Navy?"

"They're going to take a family vacation here."

"When?"

"Sometime this year."

Rex felt stressed. "So, what are you planning to do?"

"It might take a while before I come home, Pare. I have a girlfriend in Saudi Arabia. She doesn't want me to come home. She's really…," Dante smiled, seemingly thrilled, while Rex trembled at the thought. He couldn't imagine what kind of woman would go for Dante who looked like a giant tree trunk from head to toe. "So, Pare? You agree. I'll consider this a huge favor," Dante looked at Rex as if he was feeling guilty. "And also from Kuya Chris…" Rex didn't respond when he heard his brother's name. He owed Chris a huge debt. When they were young, Rex almost drowned when they were swimming in the river in their village. The water level suddenly rose because of a sudden downpour. If Chris hadn't chased after him and pulled him to safety, he probably wouldn't be alive today. Dante knew this, so that's his tactic against him.

"Okay, Pare," Rex finally reluctantly agreed. "But let's be clear, there's nothing between us. If your sister takes a wrong path, don't blame me. I'm not her yaya."

"Yes, Pare. No problem. If you want to leave, I won't stop her. I'll take care of it."

"Give me the numbers of your siblings so I can call all of you no matter what happens."

"I'll give you my work number, Pare. And Estrella's, my girlfriend."

"When are you leaving?"

"This coming Sunday, Pare. Maybe we can meet at the airport so you can pick up Marimar, okay, Pare?"

"At the airport?" Rex said in surprise. "I'm busy, Pare. Estrella has a lot of things for me to do." He was shocked at Dante's audacity. "Why don't you just have her send your sister over?"

"I'm still using my car, so she can't commute. She's not used to it because she's always stared at or harassed."

He suddenly thought of Nicole from the Pussycat Dolls. Even though he didn't want to, he felt a little excited about Marimar's arrival.

"Okay, let's meet at the airport. Just call me when you're leaving Batangas so we can go to the airport together."