Sign Here for Vengeance

Chapter 25: We Got Real with Masseto

OLIVIA

"This is good." I remarked, drinking the last drop of wine from my glass. I'm not really a wine person. I only drink for social gatherings, or at least in the few times I actually interact with people. So, I haven't really tried wines. But this was exquisite.

"Well, you can never go wrong with Masseto. It's Italian." He shared, pouring me and himself another glass.

"You know your wines?"

"Only when I've read the bottle in advance." He chuckled, putting the bottle down. As he did, the low neckline of his robe lightly fell, exposing a bit more of his- from what I've observed- perfectly shaped chest.

Damn. It looks so...photoshopped. Is that even real?

"Like what you see?" He smirked, catching the direction my eyes were looking at.

I immediately turned away to hide the red on my cheeks and started drinking. Oh god, that was embarrassing. He let out a snicker and started drinking too. My eyes went back to him.He brushed his damp hair upwards, styling it immediately as if he was on his way to an event. As his hair slowly fell back to its place again, all I could say was... wow.

Is the sun already out? Because it's getting a bit hot in here.

We sat at the living room cocktail bar, which resembled those in their hotels, only a bit smaller. It had the high seats, the glasses and wines on the shelf, the fancy lamps hanging from the ceiling. The only thing missing was a bartender.

"So..." I popped my lips, trying to strike a conversation, "Why are you up? Don't tell me it's because you needed wine. I'm gonna think you have a problem."

He put on an amused expression, "You know... you're the only person who talks to me like that... and on the same day we've met."

I secretly flinched. Am I getting on his bad side, "Okay...I'm sorry?"

"Oh, no..." He shook his head, swallowing the wine down his throat, "It's actually a bit refreshing. Other people tend to be polite and disgustingly sweet. I find your audacity...quite preferrable."

"I'll take that as a compliment then." I let out a breath of relief and smiled.

"So..." this time, he's the one who started the conversation, "Tell me more about you."

"You couldn't sleep because you wanted to know more about me?"

"There's a stranger in my house, and the only thing I know about her is that she used to play for my biggest rival and she's supposed to be dead." He rambled on, "And you're asking why I'm awake?"

"Ah. Fair enough." I laughed a bit, finishing my last bit of wine. I rested my elbows on the table and gestured for him to speak, "Ask away."

He put down his glass as well and copied my position, "Okay. First... why can't I find anything on Olivia Reagan? There is close to nothing about you online. Even a fake Facebook account has more information than you."

Oooh. The answer's a bit personal, but I need to tell him. If we're going to do this, I need to reveal a lot of things to earn his trust. We're partners now, after all.

"That's a bit complicated." I admitted, "My parents didn't want a girl. They wanted a boy to inherit the business. My father was a nouveau riche who wanted to be in the same league with those long-time moguls. And everyone was male so..."

"Mmm. He wanted power. Typical. I've met a lot of people like him."

"Yeah. I guess he wanted Reagan to be a patriarchal household, so they couldn't enter me in the family register as the firstborn, not unless I have a brother first. But my mom never got pregnant again." I narrated, sighing as I ended.

"Wow. I didn't know things would get real this soon." He sucked air through his teeth, "My apologies."

"Nah. If anything, it helped me today, so I think I should be thanking them right now."

Then he paused for a bit before asking, "But... you loved them?"

His question got me thinking. Did I love them? I don't know. I mean, I cried when they passed away, but I guess it was just a natural reaction to the death of family members. I've lived my whole life trying to get their praise and affection, to prove them wrong... to make them see that I can do better than any son they could have. But I never got there.

They only started paying attention to me when I was 16 years old, when Mr. Harrison asked them if I could be Clyde's future bride. Suddenly, I became a worthy investment. I guess it was the Harrisons that gave my existence some meaning... at least, for my parents.

"I've never really been close with them." I confessed, "They only saw me as their bridge to the Harrisons' fame and fortune. But they were my family, and I did everything to make them want me, but..."

Then Judah started sliding the tissue box towards me.

I gave a him a deadpan expression and chuckled, moving the box past me, "I'm not gonna cry. I'm just saying... that's how it was. What about you? How was Mr. Kingston as a father?"

He let out a pleasant sigh and leaned more on the bar, "He was the best. He raised me on his own and taught me all that I needed to know. He was... everything a father should be."

"I wish I could've met him." I honestly said, "I saw him in the news and magazines, and my parents talked about him too. They were jealous of him and everything he achieved. He was a great man. You're lucky to have been raised by him."

"Yeah." He swirled the wine in his glass, looking peaceful and composed, "What about you? If your parents didn't pay attention to you... how did you... you know, turn out like this?" Then, he moved his finger up and down, gesturing to me whole being.

I'm gonna assume he meant that on a positive note.

"Well, our housemaids did." I said with a proud smile on my face, "They were the best. They came from all kinds of backgrounds and grew up listening to their stories. They taught me everything my parents should have, except for the business stuff. They taught me about... life. They're the reason I'm doing this. I want to get them back, and have their families live at the Reagan House. I want to take back what's mine so I could help them...and be with them."

As I finished my story, I looked at him, and he wore the softest expression I've ever seen. He held his glass up to his chest, as if he was touched by my story. I smirked, sliding the tissue box over to him, to which he rolled his eyes at jokingly.

"You know... you could have said that to me earlier at the office. I would've agreed faster." He suddenly revealed, putting his glass on the table.

"Wait. Really? Why?"

"I'm a people person, and so was my dad." He looked down on the ground, as if reminiscing, "He loved giving to charities and investing in boarding house projects. Sometimes, we dressed up like a normal father-son duo and just stroll the malls and streets, and even the poorest areas."

"He's like that?" I leaned in, impressed and wanting to hear more.

"He loved helping others. But then..." He sighed deeply, "...he started losing some of his wealthy clients and partners. It turned them off that Kingston was starting to sound like a non-profit organization. They wanted it to be an elite brand. So...my dad had to give it up. He only secretly sent money to charities, but his other plans were flushed down the drain..."

"Oh... I understand." I was greatly disappointed by what I heard, "Most companies want that first-class stuff, something exclusive and covered in gold. His sacrificed his heart... so Kingston can be what it is today."

He nodded slowly, eyes still on the ground, "Yeah, he did. I would love to revive his projects, but I can't. His sacrifice would be in vain, and I don't want Kingston to lose its biggest investors. If only there was a way to just... do both things."

"Yeah." I mumbled to myself, my eyes now on the floor as well. But then it hit me. What if there is a way to do both things? To give to the people and maintain the trust of the wealthy investors? If I pull this off, he would like me more!

An idea took over me, and before I knew it, my lips have already moved, "Use me."