RICHARD
I felt like I was walking on clouds as I shut the door firmly behind me. I could hear the hubbub of conversation from those I had left in there. I was glad James had walked in just before I left. Things could not have walked out better if I had scripted the whole thing. I ordered an Uber. Whistling a tune, I passed the security post, nodded in the direction of the lax security guards who had thrown me out a while ago..I only had to wait outside the gates for a few minutes for my Uber to arrive. Just as the driver hurried out of the car to help me with my luggage, the screen appeared before my eyes and a small smile crept to my face.[FOR YOUR NEXT TASK, YOU ARE TO SPEND 2 MILLION DOLLARS WITHIN 24 HOURS]I whistled under my breath."Two million," I murmured."Sorry?" I looked up to see the driver giving me an enquiring look."Nothing. I er- wasn't referring to you." Just then, I received a notification from the bank that my account had been credited with 2 million dollars. I smiled and tucked my phone into my pocket.The driver put the other suitcase in the boot and then turned on the ignition."Where are we headed?" he asked.I gave him the address of my condo. He repeated the address in a tone of surprise. His eyes met mine in the rearview mirror, his look of skepticism evident.He was no doubt wondering what a shabbily dressed man was going to do at a location like that, but he said nothing. As the car sped off, I looked down at my clothes. I had to admit to myself that my clothes were rather worse for wear. It was no wonder almost everyone I had come across regarded me with contempt. I had a few good clothes in my suitcases, but none of them fit the image of the person I was now.Since I had money, I figured I had to dress the part. Besides, I had two million dollars to spend within a day. There was one place I could get good quality clothes- at the shopping mall where I worked. I leaned forward and tapped the driver on the shoulder."Change of plans," I said. "Take me to Megastore, the shopping mall."The traffic that evening was light and I got to the mall within the hour. After giving the driver a generous tip, I told him to wait until I had finished. I got out of the car slowly and for a moment stared at the building. I had been here several times before, of course, but it felt... different this time.This time, I wasn't going in as a uniformed employee, bustling about to attend to customers. This time, I was a customer. As I made my way to the entrance, I heard a familiar voice barking orders. It was Mr Samson, the manager, who was supervising the loading of some goods into a truck."Handle that one with care!" he said to a harassed looking young man, actually more of a boy, who was struggling to carry a heavy carton twice his size.Samson stopped talking as I got closer. He was one for not offending the shoppers at the mall, but loved to talk down on those who were lower in rank to him.He always took advantage of those working under him. Like everyone else, I had suffered at his hands. He was so fixated on his task that he glanced at me without interest, and I was beginning to think that I would be able to get into the mall without incident when his gaze suddenly swiveled back to me. He did a double take."Richard!" he barked, taking off his cap and slapping it angrily against his thigh. "What the heck were you about to do just now? Were you seriously thinking of going in there? Didn't you see me?"I sighed deeply. It seemed today was going to be the day where I compulsorily had to deal with a lot of jerks; from Jake to his blonde friend, to James, the Whites and now Samson."Hello, Mr Samson," I said quietly."He says hello." Samson looked around, silently inviting an audience to pay attention to the scene I knew he wanted to create.The men loading the truck had been looking on, relieved to see someone other than them being railed at. When they saw Samson was looking, they returned to work double- time, hoping to finish before they became the center of his attention once more. Samson moved close to me, his stance intimidating, only he didn't intimidate me anymore."You just show up here, after being absent from work for several days and all you can say to me is hello?" he growled.I raised a brow. "I thought hello was a common form of greeting. I'm wondering why it annoys you so much... sir."Samson's bushy beard bristled as he glared at me. "Don't you dare start with that bloody smart mouth of yours, Richard. You don't know how much trouble your lazy, incompetent ass is in right now. I'll see that a substantial amount is removed from your paycheck for this month. I'll-""There will be no need for that," I said, interrupting. "I quit.""You what?" he bellowed."I quit. As of this moment, I resign.""You bloody well can't do that.""Oh. And why can't I?""Because I haven't given you permission to quit.""You've got to be kidding me. I haven’t heard of being given permission to resign. Well, you don't own me. I quit and there is nothing you can do about it. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some shopping to do and-" I glanced at the truck. "-I'm sure you have work to get back to."Samson got over the shock of me addressing him that way and followed me into the mall."Stop right there," he called. "Where do you think you're going? Are you trying to steal something? I swear, if any item gets missing, I won't hesitate to call the cops on you.""Really? We'll see about that," I replied.RICHARDI ignored Samson's taunts and kept moving. From my experience, I knew he wouldn't stop talking until he had exhausted all he had to say, and judging by how angry and worked up he was, he had quite a lot to say. So I tuned him out and pretended that his voice was just background noise. I headed straight for the exclusive shopping section. Just before I got there, a tall, pretty middle aged receptionist hurried from her desk and stood in my path. She shook her head slightly."Excuse me, Mr...""Richard."She gave me a cool, professional smile which faded a little as she glanced over my shoulder at Samson. He was right behind me, within touching distance and I could feel his breath on my ear. I shifted a little to the right."Mr Richard." The receptionist once more focused on me. "I'm afraid this part of the mall is reserved for exclusive customers only. Are you a premium shopper? I don't think I have seen you in this section of the mall before. But if you are a premium shopper,
RICHARD"Give me a minute, sir," the receptionist said.After a few taps on her computer, she nodded in a satisfied manner. Beaming, she handed me my debit card. Shock had made him pale considerably even under his tan."Your payment is successful, Mr Richard," she said."I can see that. Thank you." I leaned casually against the desk and turned to Samson who still had not recovered the power of speech. I brushed an invisible speck off my shirt and regarded him coolly. "What was that you were saying?"His eyes flashed and burned. The veins stood out on his forehead."You- you-" he stammered, paused."Me what? If you have something else to say to me, now is the time because I will soon go in there-" I jerked my thumb in the direction of the exclusive part of the mall. "-to buy stuff, and I don't imagine I will be out for hours. Or perhaps you don't have anything else to say. You seem to have exhausted your supply of words since you had so much to say earlier."I straightened and made it
RichardAs soon as we were out of earshot of the receptionist, Tom spoke up. "Samson's right, you know," he said, his voice low and serious. "No one uses this level of membership card without being a millionaire." I shook my head, trying to brush off the feeling of dread that was growing inside me. "I paid for this membership, Tom. I have the receipt right here." Tom raised an eyebrow. "I hope you have it, because I don't think anyone's going to believe you.“I sighed and rubbed my temples, trying to think. Meanwhile, Samson's words echoed in my mind, refusing to fade away. "But- but you can't let him go in there," he had exclaimed, his voice laced with disbelief. The irony of it all hung heavy in the air, a bitter twist to the situation.Tom led me deeper into the mall, the receptionist's instructions to guide me through my shopping trip still ringing in my ears. As I moved through the crowded corridor of shoppers, I felt eyes on me. It felt like stepping into a battlefield, wi
The manager's gaze held a quiet authority as he beckoned me to share my story. "Please, tell me what happened," he said, his voice a calm anchor in the storm of accusations.I drew in a deep breath, feeling the weight of every judgmental stare that had followed me since I entered. "I paid for the platinum membership card before entering the mall,” I explained, my voice steady despite the tumultuous emotions churning within me. “I came here with the sole intention of shopping for clothes, nothing more. I have no reason to steal anything.”The sales girls tried to cut in, their voices sharp and erratic, but Mr. Damian raised his hand, silencing them with a gesture that spoke volumes of his desire for fairness.“Let him speak,” he declared firmly, his tone brooking no argument. “I want to hear his side of the story.”But even as I spoke, the salesgirls persisted in their attempts to interrupt, their voices growing more frantic with each passing moment. They tried to inject doubt into Mr
And so, I found myself alone again, surrounded by the quiet luxury of the mall. The air was rich with the smell of expensive things; each shop was like a chest full of treasures waiting to be discovered. I wasn’t just there to buy clothes—I was there to shape how the world would see me, to craft an image as sleek and polished as the shiny floors I walked on.I began at the high-end boutiques, where the air was scented with a blend of leather and perfume. Attendants, dressed as immaculately as the mannequins, greeted me with practiced smiles, their eyes subtly appraising. I nodded at them, my mind already sifting through the racks of designer suits and limited-edition watches.The first purchase was a suit, tailored to perfection, the fabric a whisper against my skin. The price was a mere drop in the ocean of my budget, and I handed over my card with a nonchalance that belied the thrill of the transaction.Next, I strolled into the jewelry store, the twinkling display of diamonds and g
I turned to face the direction of the source of the voice, my heart pounding in my chest, and there he was, approaching me. “Mr. Edmund?” I muttered with a hint of skepticism, relief flooding through me. “I’m glad you’re here. I wasn’t sure if you were real.”He chuckled softly. “I assure you, young master, I am very real.” He was dressed impeccably, his demeanor calm and collected. “I’m Mr. Edmund,” he said with a smile on his face.I stood there, rooted to the spot as the elderly gentleman before me bowed deeply. "Please, rise. There's no need for all the…formalities," I urged, discomfort creeping into my voice.“Ah, but sir, it is my duty and honor to show the utmost respect to my master,” he replied, his voice a soft, melodious tone that spoke of a bygone era of decorum and deference.I was taken aback, my mind a whirlwind of confusion. “How can I be your master when we've only just met?" I questioned, my mind racing to piece together this unexpected puzzle.But the man, who had
A heavy silence descended upon us, punctuated only by the soft rustle of fabric as he lowered his head. Edmund's eyes, once bright with the wisdom of years, now glistened with the onset of tears. They clung to his lashes like dew on the verge of falling, each one a silent testament to the pain of secrets held too long.“Richard,” he began, his voice trembling with emotion, “there are truths that have long been concealed, burdens that I can no longer bear alone.”I watched as tears welled in his eyes, glistening like liquid diamonds in the dim light of the room. And then, like a dam breaking, the floodgates opened, and he poured forth the secrets that had haunted him for years.“Your mother," he said, his voice quivering like a taut string ready to snap, "she was a maid in your father’s employ, a woman of humble origins who captured his heart with her gentle spirit and unwavering devotion.”I listened in stunned silence as Edmund unraveled the story of my origins, each revelation pierc
RichardBeside me stood Edmund, my father's loyal friend and confidant. He was a beacon, guiding me through the murky waters of my father's past, his debts, and the tangled affairs he left behind.Our first meeting was with Mr. Thompson, a seasoned businessman who had worked closely with my father. His office was a testament to his success, adorned with accolades and framed photographs capturing moments of triumph.“Richard, good to see you stepping up,” Mr. Thompson greeted me warmly, extending his hand for a firm handshake.“Thank you, Mr. Thompson. It’s a big responsibility, but I’m ready for the challenge,” I replied, returning his handshake with confidence.The conversation flowed smoothly. Mr. Thompson was understanding of our situation and offered valuable insights into navigating the complex world of business negotiations.“You’ve got your father’s sharp mind, Richard. I have no doubt you’ll steer Megastar in the right direction,” Mr. Thompson remarked, a genuine smile gracing
RICHARD’S POV—THREE YEARS LATER I ran around the living room, chasing our twins in some endless game of tag. They were shrieking with laughter, little feet pounding on the floor, and honestly, it was the best sound in the world. But just as I made a playful grab for them, Amelia walked in with a tray of biscuits and gave me one of her classic mom-glares.“Really, Richard?” she said, exasperated but trying not to smile. “If you keep chasing them like that, they’re going to fall. And then who’s getting up at night with them when they’re crying? Not me, that’s for sure.”I stopped in my tracks and threw my hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright! You win. Kids, you heard your mother. Grab a biscuit and calm down, alright? Before we all get grounded.”The twins scrambled toward the tray, wide-eyed and hungry like they hadn’t just had breakfast an hour ago. Amelia rolled her eyes at me, handing the kids each a biscuit before turning her gaze on me.“No biscuit for you, mister,” she tease
RICHARD’S POVI sat there, tapping my foot against the cold tile, waiting for the doctor to come in. Amelia was beside me, looking exhausted from my dragging her here yet again. But we were here, and I’d finally get some peace of mind.The door opened, and Dr. Geller strolled in, looking... oddly cheerful. He scanned his clipboard before smiling at both of us. “Well,” he said, “I’ve got some news that I think you’re going to like.”Amelia glanced at me, raising an eyebrow. “He didn’t find anything, right? See, I told you, Richard…”“No, no,” Dr. Geller cut in, chuckling. “Nothing bad. Quite the opposite, actually.”I held my breath, narrowing my eyes at him. “Spit it out, Doc. I don’t do suspense.”He grinned, finally setting down the clipboard. “Amelia, congratulations. You’re pregnant. Again.”For a split second, I thought he was joking. But then it hit me like a tidal wave, and I shot to my feet. “Are you serious?!” I practically yelled, and probably looked like a lunatic, but I di
RICHARD’S POV—THREE WEEKS LATER Arriving home with the bouquet in one hand and Amelia’s favorite snacks in the other, I hoped today would lift her spirits, even a little. She hadn’t been herself since...well, since the loss. Three weeks, and yet it felt like everything had been hollowed out.As soon as I opened the door, the tense vibe hit me like a wall. Amelia was sitting there on the couch, pale but trying to keep calm, while her grandmother loomed over her with that steely look. The minute she spotted me, her eyes narrowed like she’d been waiting for this.“Richard,” she spat, voice low and biting, “this is all on you. You should have done better. Protected her, watched out for her—”“Enough,” I cut in, barely keeping my voice steady. I didn’t want a scene, not in front of Amelia. But I couldn’t just let this go. “If you’re going to blame someone, find a mirror.”Her face twisted, anger flaring up, and for a second I thought she’d come closer. “How dare you,” she snapped. “How da
RICHARD’S POVDinner was quiet tonight. Too quiet. Amelia had barely touched her food, just pushing it around on her plate with this distant look in her eyes. I asked her if she was alright, and she’d just given me a tired smile and said she was fine. But something didn’t sit right. Still, I let it go, figuring she’d open up when she was ready.Upstairs, I lay on the bed waiting while she went into the bathroom. She closed the door behind her, and I stretched out, hands behind my head, staring up at the ceiling. The day had been long, and I was looking forward to nothing more than a quiet evening with her, maybe watch some dumb movie and unwind.But then I heard it—a loud voice cutting through the silence, sharp and strained. It was Amelia. A cry, filled with pain.I sat up so fast, my heart instantly in my throat. “Amelia?” I called, already on my feet and moving towards the door. There was no answer, only a muffled groan that sent my pulse skyrocketing.“Amelia, are you okay?” I ask
RICHARD’S POVAmelia stared at me, her arms crossed, her eyes hard. I knew that look. It wasn't good.“He deserves whatever he's getting. Richard. You know that, right?"Her words hit me like a slap. I frowned, trying to keep calm. “Amelia, come on. He's still my brother. I know he messed up, but he's still family.” She shook her head, almost scoffing. "So what? Family doesn't mean you get a free pass to be a complete asshole and try to ruin someone's life.”I sighed, leaning back against the chair. "I'm not saying he should get a free pass. l'm just saying.. maybe he did what he did out of anger, or resentment, or-""Maybe?!" she cut me off, her voice rising. “Richard, he tried to kill you. He tied me up and used me as bait! I don't care if he was angry or resentful, that doesn't give him a damn excuse to behave like a psychopath!”I winced at her words. She wasn't wrong, but still… “Look, I know he crossed the line. A million times over. But people do stupid things when they're des
RICHARD’S POV I froze, my breath catching in my throat as the bang reverberated through the room. For a second, everything was still. Silent. I looked down. Blood. Not mine. William gasped, his eyes wide with shock as he stared at the wound in his side. The gun slipped from his hand, clattering uselessly to the floor. I stumbled back, hands slick with blood, heart pounding so hard it felt like it was about to explode. The sound of the gunshot kept echoing in my ears like a bad dream, but this wasn’t a dream. William—my brother—was bleeding out on the floor. “Shit,” I gasped, rushing toward him. “Will… Goddamn it, stay with me!” His face was pale, eyes half-closed as he struggled to breathe. Blood poured from his side, seeping through my fingers as I pressed down hard. Too hard. It didn’t matter. “You’re gonna be fine. Hear me? You’re gonna be fine. Just hold on.” He coughed, a weak, bitter laugh escaping his lips. “Richard… you always… always screw things up, don’t you?” “Shut
RICHARD’S POV “William," I said out loud. His body stiffened. He turned slowly to face me, his mask still on, but I knew it was him. The way he moved, his voice earlier—it all made sense now. “Take off the mask, man,” I said, my tone calm but laced with anger. “I know it’s you.” For a second, William didn’t move. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he pulled the mask off, revealing that familiar face. There was a twisted smirk on his lips, his eyes gleaming with hatred. I hated how much we looked alike—same damn smirk, same sharp features. “Smart as always, aren’t you, Richard?” he spat, lifting a gun and pointing it straight at me. “But not smart enough.” Great, now two guns were aimed at my head. Just another day in paradise. I grinned at him, trying to ignore the sweat dripping down my back. “William, c’mon. I don’t want trouble. I just want Amelia. Give me my wife, and I’ll walk out of here. No drama.” William let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, you’re funny. Rea
RICHARD’S POV We arrived at the building, and it looked dead—no lights, no signs of life, just an old, worn-down structure. My heart pounded in my chest, but I didn’t have time to feel fear. Not when Amelia was in there. Somewhere. The police moved quietly, guns raised, signaling me to stay back. But there was no way in hell I was sitting this one out. As we entered the place, it smelled of damp wood and dust. My stomach churned, my instincts screaming that something was wrong. But then, just as I was about to dismiss the silence as a bad sign, I heard it—a voice. One I recognized. I froze. Was that…? “Goddamn it!” The voice was angry, echoing through the hollow space. “The bastard’s smarter than I thought. Papers! Can you believe this shit?” He was yelling into the phone, furious about something. The guy kept going on and on, cursing me for filling the bag with papers instead of the ransom money. I crouched behind a half-broken wall, trying to get a better listen, my breath sha
RICHARD’S POV Morning came quicker than I wanted. I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my own reflection, trying to calm my nerves. My heart was pounding in my chest, but I had to keep it together. Today was the day. The bag of fake cash sat on the bed, looking too light for the weight of what was at stake. I picked it up, slinging it over my shoulder like I was just going to the gym. If only it were that simple. The police were already outside, setting up, tapping into my phone like we’d planned. I headed out, feeling the cold air hit me as I got into my car. The drive to the location was tense, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly that my knuckles turned white. I knew they were following me. Harris was in an unmarked car a few blocks back, probably sipping coffee like this was just another day for him. The location was a grimy parking lot, empty except for a few abandoned cars. The place looked like the kind of spot you’d find in a crime movie, the kind where not