A connecting line
Miller’s corporation.
Dalton’s office:
“She sold the painting that she left the house with this evening, to the Daas.. Daasgrh auction house, sir,” Alex struggled to pronounce the name of the place that he had practiced a couple of times, as he made his report to Dalton from what he had cross checked with the head of guards.
He was still unable to comprehend the vivid picture that was unfolding before him, particularly of Aria having a sudden need to sell herself painted art to an auction house.
It even seemed weirder that Dalton was so interested in what she was doing, and getting or planning to get involved with. But it was not surprising to Alex anymore because it was sought of a norm for Dalton; wanting to know everything his wife was getting into lately.
“Register, and book a space at the auction house,” Dalton instructed and nodded meaningfully, as he signed the final papers for his takeover of a food company that went under, after taking a huge investment risk, “Getting some new pieces of art for the mansion wouldn’t be a bad one.”
In less than a year, Dalton had taken over so many upcoming companies that had failed to survive, due to low level of expertise or inability to generate adequate input for the company management.
When it came to investment dealings and real estate managements, his calculative predictions were so insane that he quadrupled the worth of the Millers in a year. Never could he be underestimated in his dealings, and for that, his grandfather could not have loved him less.
“Then she should be at the mansion now,” Dalton made an affirmative statement expecting that it would definitely be the truth he had envisaged.
“No sir. She is on her way to the orphanage,” Alex disappointed him with the next words that could never offer any warmth of helping him to feel better. A crease began to form around Dalton’s well defined eyebrows.
There was nothing more funny and amusing to Alex than the new expressions that were not far from reach for Dalton, especially when it came to Aria’s business.
Throughout the years he had worked for him, every expression he had seen and studied from Dalton was resentment, an intimidating aura, extreme seriousness, no fun, and loathing.
But watching him often express ones that were close to surprise, skepticism, restlessness recently, were really intriguing for him to study.
“That darn orphanage! What does she have to do with that place anyways? Is she in any way connected to the place?” Dalton muttered angrily, while trying not to squeeze the files in front of him into his palms.
Alex was not sure if it was appropriate for him to respond to Dalton’s rhetorical question; however he could not exactly understand what his boss was pissed off about.
The fact that they had been trailing her around and had not found anything really suspicious, or the fact that her moves and doings were now unpredictable, he knew not. He suddenly recalled something at that point.
“Sir. After the wine cellar has been locked, Mrs. Miller appears to be purchasing liquor from a store.”
Dalton’s facial expression changed immediately to the one that was shocked, as he was really surprised to realize that he didn’t know so much about her after all.
He wanted to know exactly why she was drinking so much to the detriment of her health rather than being enraged or pissed because she had gone out of her way to defile his instructions.
“Get the car ready,” he ordered Alex.Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.
~•~ ~•~ ~•~
Ellen sat at the balcony of her room while she was streaming a live video, since she had nothing much to do with her closest friend out of the country. None of her sisters were home and even Eleanor had gone for her own business, leaving her as the only one left in the house by herself.
As she modestly flaunted her new luxurious limited edition handbag and read people’s nice comments and reactions, her heart almost jumped out of her chest by turning her inward happiness sour when a message popped on her phone.
She thought she was mistaken or hallucinating when she read the message heading, while trying not to make the abrupt mood of her change obvious to her followers.
As impatient as she was intensely feeling to end the live session, she found it hard to do so immediately, hoping in her heart that the message was just spam.
She reluctantly did some other things and showed her greatest collection of makeup, before she finally ended the live video and heaved a sigh of fear.
Her thumbs hesitated to click on the message icon on her phone, as she hoped it was not exactly what she was thinking in her mind.
And to her utmost dismay and disturbing thoughts confirmation, it was something she knew would dread her if she ever saw. The message read:
Hey senorita. Would you like to meet?
Sincerely Damon.
Ellen was drunk when he approached her and mentioned his name, but she could never mistake the name for another person’s.
Just anybody could not message her on her personal phone number, talk less of an unknown number texting her like they knew each other on a personal level. Of course they had been intimate, so it was a total and crazy personal thing.
‘But how did he get her number? When did she give it to him? He knows who she was already. Why was he requesting an audience? It was probably to get money by blackmailing her!’ Ellen’s brain had questioned and convinced her of so many things, that she was not even yet to confirm its validity.
Doing anything to damage her perfect image was the worst thing she could ever do to herself. She couldn’t afford to be lonely both in real life, and also on the internet too that was swarming with her fans.
Regardless of that, she could feel her eyes already welling out a painful drop of tears that slowly rolled down her puffy cheeks. It would have been a nice thing to finally meet someone if she was just an ordinary person, but things could not go wrong with Damon because of her family status.
“What the fuck am I going to do now that he wants to meet…?” Ellen cried subduedly and deeply under her bed covers, in fear of being ostracized by the internet community or being hated upon if any video of her leaked.
She could not even imagine having anti fans that would call her disgusting and drag her through debris, because she had let her personal life come to a place that could never wipe things finally, if her brother does not intervene in the situation. The shame alone would even kill her, even if no one found it as a big deal.
‘What she would do, was just to pretend like it wasn’t her own number, and prevent any further messages from being sent by that number. Yes. It was not the time to cry and sulk over spilt milk now,’ she consoled herself.
~•~•~
Sitting in the almost empty living of expanse space was a young man, who seemed to be so engulfed in the job he was doing, and also out of it at the same time.
He was definitely not ready to do a final takeover of the family company yet, so he just worked from home and did whatever had to be done with the help of his assistant.
His heart was constantly troubled that the one person he had wanted to talk to for so long, didn’t seem herself and had no tangible time to spare him for another talk. She sent messages and called whenever she was to, and switched off her phone at every slightest chance he wanted to call or text back.
She never told where she was living or how she was doing, and still had not enough time to talk with him like in the past.
He was thinking that it picked off like the past, that it took so long before they could be in the same space, but as the days went by, he knew that things would probably never be the same any longer. He resorted to another method.
He told the assistant to find out the name of the auction house, that Aria sold the art that she sent him a picture of, and also register a slot for the auctioning. The first step he was going to take closer to her, was buying her beautiful piece of art at the auction.