☘︎ Lʏᴋᴀs Vɪᴛᴀʟʟɪs ☘︎

"I feel like I've seen her before." Ethan Langford muses, his amber eyes flickering to me from the driver's seat, "But it doesn't make sense."

Rolling my eyes, I focus on the heavy traffic clearing for the limited edition Rolls-Royce car used as a police car to venture it's way through, the elite team's limousine following shortly behind.

"Jennifer is famous. You probably saw her somewhere in tabloids." I assert stoically.

"I suppose." Ethan frowns, deep in thought before he grins a cunning smile, "So you didn't kill a certain housekeeper, did you?"

"Is that why you're tailing me and Mia home and sent one of your cronies to accompany Jennifer to her house? To keep an eye on us?" My tone is as bland as it could get. I know very well Jennifer, Mia and me are still a major part of Ethan's suspect list, no matter how chill he acts about it.

Jennifer had left a few minutes before us, after her Human Resource/Public Relations manager, Siya, told her to go to Jennifer's own house in NY instead of returning to Davidson Villa where my father awaits. Something about it causing a bigger scandal for Siya to clear before she could land on New York if Jennifer went tooth and nail with David Vitallis. It made sense and while a morose part of me is relieved she doesn't have to witness my father chastise me, a larger part is dejected that her ice cold presence wouldn't be lingering in the Davidson Villa anymore.

"Maybe it's just a form of protection? I'll leave you at the gates of Davidson Villa and be gone. Someone seems quite pissed by you lot. And we also don't know whether the killer really wanted to kill the housekeeper or she got tangled in a death sentence meant for one of you present at the villa that day. I still have to officially question all of you with prior notice as well." Ethan shrugs dismissingly, then peeks a glance behind, "You think that one didn't kill the housekeeper either?"

"IamrighthereIcanhearyou." Mia mumbles incoherently in her sleep from the backseat and the Francis guy, equally drowsy and drunk, lets her rest her head on his lap and slumber off on him. Definitely likes her.

"Speak English." Ethan states to Mia then turns to me another time when the car halts on a traffic signal, "Are you sure the Miss Jennifer hasn't been to jail before?"

"Just shut up, Langford." I sigh, running a hand through my hair and resting my head back on the leather seat.

Ethan simply whistles a tune in return, but thankfully stops his interrogation.

***

There was always more than enough reasons for David Vitallis to claim how much of a dissapointment I am to him. It was just my luck the moment father landed on New York, the first news he had to hear was of his only 'reckless son' being arrested. Fantastic.

I wish I was as drunk as Mia and Francis, so I could have an excuse to ditch this and go slumber off like the dead in my room. No such luck.

Taking a deep breath and fixing the top buttons of my white shirt, I pull back my shoulder in a semblace of fake nonchalance and push open the door leading to the drawing room of Davidson Villa.

My father's eyes, so similar to my own, a champagne shade like the lightest brown of burnt gold, seek mine immediately from where he's seated at the couch. He wears a black suit, dark grey tie in place and a glass of wine in his hand. Hair perfectly gelled and combed back from his head accentuating the sharp, lethal features of his face.

Mother sits beside him, pretty as ever. Dressed in a lilac dress, Heather Vitallis' hair is pinned back with studded clips, elegant as the diamond choker on her neck. She doesn't glance at me and keeps staring down at her tightly clasped hands on her lap.

Father raises an imaculate brow at the sight of me, the menacing meaning not lost to the action. What is your excuse this time?

"Dad, it was jus-" I begin only for him to set down his wine glass on the table with a loud clank, abruptly rise from the couch and approach me in three long strides.

My eyes sting, rapid blinks of surprised shock following when he grabs the back of my neck in a death grip, "How. Many. Times. Do. You. Have. To. Dissapoint. Me." He grits through his teeth, each word laced with venom.

Somewhere along the line, I know my dad loves me. That is why he's always concerned of my success, because he wants to see me soar and rule, to flourish his business empire ruthlessly in the future just like he does now.

But it's moments like these, when it hits me that I could, I had tried with all I have, I had done everything to make him proud. Studied what he wanted me to, chosen the profession he chose for me, accepted my role to become the CEO of Vitallis Group without any objections even when a part of me dreaded the exposure, even when a part of just wanted to enjoy my life without any expectations for a bit. And yet, he'd still been dissapointed. He'd still had a reason to make me feel like a failure.

Maybe that is why after a certain amount of losing hope of him ever being proud of me, I fit right in the role of the reckless son spending away his father's money on making the elite team clear his petty, harmless scandals. Atleast a rebellious son is expected to dissapoint. Even if it hurt every single time to see the scorn in his eyes, to see the way his face contorts in dissatisfaction every time he looks at me.

I stay rooted on my spot, not answering his questions, knowing he'll only call me a shameless swine for speaking back to my father.

"Do you have any idea the effect your stupidity has caused to Vitallis Group's reputation, it's shares, it's goodwill?! Going to prison for violating a goddamn murder investigation order. What's next? Getting in for the murder?! The thing about you is you're a fool enough that you cannot even be discreet with your actions!" Displeased spit splitters the sides of my face but I remain immobile, letting him rat out every insult so I could get away from him quickly the moment it's over, "If I lose even a single investor because of you Lykas, I don't care if you're my son, I'll make sure I ruin you!"

My hands clench on my sides.
His company over his family. His wife. His son. It's always been like that for David Vitallis. It stings.

I steal a glance of my mother past father's shoulder and notice how her eyes are still fixated on her lap, her hands clasped tighter. She never stops him and I can't even blame her.

The skeletons, I mean. Don't keep them with you. The more you keep them in your closet, the more they'll take a part of you. I've seen it happen to people.

I scoff at the echo of my words to Jennifer weeks ago in my head, taunting me.

My father's eyes narrow into slits at the sound passing my lips, taking it in the wrong way as though I scoffed at him.

The grip on the back of my neck tightens to a vice, father's chopped nails digging into my skin, his strong hold nearly shattering the neck-bone. My father was a black belt in varoius martial arts during his prime years, he's strong.

I wince as pain riochets under his crushing grip, liquid hot ache shooting down my spine and hurting not just body but even soul, adding to the many invisible scars on my heart one will never see.

I shut my eyes, waiting for him to calm down from his temper, to release me. Waiting waiting waiting-

"Let him go." The icy command from a familiar voice has me snapping my eyes open.

Wasn't she supposed to be on her way to her mansion?!

But when I blink, all 5 feet six inch of Jennifer Ryson is standing next to me, her slender hand clasped around my father's wrist, the wrist of the same hand gripping my neck.

Jennifer doesn't even look at me, her green eyes are like blades ready to cut through metal as they stay in a heated challenge with my father's. If I wasn't so stupefied and perhaps a little awed, I'd have actually been scared of her cold expression.

My father's eyes narrow into slits. I can see his temper flaring, I can see how her command riles him even more. His hold only tightens and I can feel the sharp burn of his nails creating crescents on my skin, the way the back of my neck almost goes numb. I feel like an immobilized kitten being held by its neck by his mother's teeth, only with me, the teeth sinks into my skin to draw blood.

"Let go." Jennifer repeats calmly, maybe a little too calmly, the calm before a storm calmly. She takes a threatening step closer to my father, her grip on his wrist tightening in retaliation, "You're hurting him."

"YOU DON'T GET TO TELL ME WHAT I DO TO MY SON!" David Vitallis' face contorts in rage. There's a flash of remorse but the anger and ego overpowers it. He lets me go with a hard shove, my legs hitting against the couch before I steady myself back on my feet again.

Jennifer glances at me for a fleeting moment before turning back to my father, her grasp still tight around his wrist, "Son? I don't see you treating him as one."

Father loses it at that. He tugs his wrist free from Jennifer's hold so harshly that her nails scrape his skin and she almost staggers ahead from the force of the pull.

"How dare you!" His hand raises with the pure intent to hit her.

White hot panic seizes me, accompanied with a foreign sense of real anger diverted at my father. My limbs move from reflex alone as I stride towards Jennifer hurriedly and pull her back by her elbows before his palm can make contact with her face.

"Dad!" The shock and anger reflects in that one word but before he can react, another voice mirrors my emotions.

"David! What the fuck man?!" Samuel rushes into the drawing room, coming to stand in front of his best friend with his green eyes blazing.

Father is still glaring at Jennifer, not paying heed to Samuel. And Jennifer. . . My eyes widen when she releases my hold on her elbow and storms upto my father.

Face to face, her posture screams wild wrath as she points her index finger at him in a threatening manner. When Jennifer looks my father straight in the eye, she seems about ready to burn him down to the ground with icy flames, "You so much as try to raise your hand on me or Lykas one more time and I'll make sure you end up in jail, David Vitallis."

Then she turns around, grabs her MacBook I hadn't noticed earlier from where it was placed on the couch and storms towards the exit prepared to barge out of the place in fury.

But her footsteps halts at the door abruptly. Whisking around, she stalks back towards me and grabs my arm.

"You're coming along with me." The finalty in her blatant order leaves no room for argument.

Still trying to processing the turn of events in the whole situation, I let Jennifer Ryson pull me along with her to wherever she wished. I see an almost proud look coast Samuel's face, fury and annoyance glint in my father's eyes and my mother staring at Jennifer with unprecedented surprise.

Despite the turbulent of worry about how my father would retaliate to her rebuke today, I conclude how Jennifer is the type of Cinderella who doesn't need a prince, but the kind who the prince needs.

And how falling for her is inevitable.

--------᪥♔︎᪥-------

My love for Jenna in this chapter>>>

Lemme know your thoughts about Lykas, Jenna, David, Heather, Samuel or if nothing, the weather🤪

Phew. I know it took me a week to update but agh family functions and relatives house visits are tiring as heck, so cut me some slack okay?

Tomorrow I have a flight back home, so yeah visit my funeral if I pass away young due to over-traveling. The funeral theme is Halloween btw! Bring black roses or black orchids!

Enough blasphemy, Tata now.
Have a blast of a wonderful day and hopefully soon, I'll announce something exciting 👀👍