"... and if you gonna let me down, 

let me down easy." 

FIVE: SNOOPING IN & LABOURED BREATH.

IT WAS WHEN I strolled out of Walmart, I saw him. Theodore Raymond. 

He was standing at the entrance of the most ravishing hotel in NYC, Millennium Grand.

 A professional smile with mechanical aura was plastered on his face as he shook hands with a bald man with a height of more than 6'5 if I am not wrong. Rich Armani suits covered both of their frames. After their formalities, he walked down the massive stairs, covered in red carpet as golden light glowed from behind. This suited him, the richness and professionalism. 

I too got in my car as the ideas were added to my head and a delicious plan brewed within. A smirk made its way up my lips as I pressed the accelerator. 

The watch showed 10:47 and my gut feeling said he would be going home. Though I wouldn't be surprised if he had women to pleasure or friends to attend. But, my conscience made me follow him. 

His white SUV was parked in front of a two storey building and trust me when I say I wasn't surprised but overwhelmed. After seeing his office, I definitely expected this, if not more but the homely atmosphere drew me in without second thoughts. A dense plantation was cast behind the house, making the house stand out. 

I climbed up the marble stairs and in front of me stood a massive steel door. There was a code meter and my brain sweated at the thought of how to break in. 

I looked closely at the numbers in the black Glass plate and there were fingerprint circles on three digits-0,1 & 9. And the other numbers looked like they haven't been touched for years, for the plate was shining like diamonds. 

I went in ascending order and then in descending but I gained no profit. Obviously, he wouldn't put anything so easy and random. A flashback memory hit me that told that the room number of his personal office read 901.

Typing carefully when my breath came out ragged, it made a 'Tick' sound and the steel door gilded open. Heaving a victorious sigh, I stepped in and held my breath, not making a single noise. I internally thanked myself for not wearing stilettos. At Least it wouldn't make the sound of a jumping footfall. 

To say that the hall was massive will be an understatement. There was a heavenly chandelier hung on the ceiling illuminating the room. I tried not to ogle at the furniture which looked all modern and classy. 

To my right side was a glass table with fruit baskets and cutlery but not a single soul was out. Strange, but good for me! My research told that he didn't live with his family. 

The spiral staircase took me to the first floor which I had already looked at from the living room. The small porch had a double chair sofa set and then it diverged into two ways- one to my left and other straight. 

Taking the left one first and deciding to take the other one later, I walked across the dimly lit alley with ancient-looking full wall paintings and vases placed tactically, as they complimented each other. It led me to the only room in front of me. 

The door was open partially and a fluorescent light shadow was cut when I peeped inside. The light sound of water running could be heard, so I barged in and exhaled the air which I didn't know I was holding. 

The front wall was not a wall actually. It was covered with sliding glass windows from foot to the ceiling, cornered with deep blue silk curtains. There were a series of awards and trophies placed thoroughly planned. It wasn't rocket science to guess I was in the right room. 

I didn't waste any more time and opened the chest of drawers on the side table. Some random pills, prescriptions, and papers were there. Even the one on the other side didn't hold anything which I was searching for. 

I padded to the wardrobe, as the sound of running water continued behind. The running water was my safe guard. My breath was shallow. Holding the S-shaped handle, I pulled it but it didn't budge. Shit, he keeps it locked. 

Definitely, he would, dummy. 

Huffing and puffing out of annoyance, I kept pulling the steel at hand. Okay, even if I don't get my stuff, I have all the rights to break a few things, at least. 

I realized a coarse clearing of a throat and suddenly there was no sound of water and my breath was coming out as pants. It felt as if my head was soaked in water, heavy and stuffed. I didn't know when my hands stilled but taking a deep breath I turned around. 

And there he stood in just a towel wrapped around him casually, which meant it hung so dangerously low that I gulped with difficulty. Shit, Lia gets out of the trance right now. I order, now! Shouted my brain. 

But my eyes roamed unmindfully up his toned stomach with lines carved in leisure. His arms were muscular enough but not exaggerated. What I thought was, perfect. The hollow of his neck was prominent which highlighted his sharp and exquisite collarbone. Adam's apple boggled and my eyes met him instantly. 

His face had no signs of annoyance but amusement. A smirk renting his facial frame. 

"What are you doing in my house?" An overconfident smirk adorning his plum and red lips. Ew, fuck you, Lia. Get out of the trance before I grab you by your hair, brain threatened. 

My throat was clogged and words didn't seem to escape anytime soon. So, clearing my dry-as-desert throat I replied, "I want my identity record back. Isn't it obvious? Looks like I was expecting too much. Tsk. Tsk." I quoted him and pride filled my heart. 

I just don't know what the reason was, but I wasn't afraid of this man. The whole Raymond Empire might be under him and however powerful he seemed, my intuition said to me that he was dangerous but won't harm me. His eyes reflected this and I felt that only I could see it. 

He chuckled with his eyes glimmering, running a hand over his mouth saying, "Looks like I made a mistake underestimating you." His voice was muffled but I guessed. 

 "But even though, if I haven't done that, yet I never thought that you were so desperate for that thing that you would snoop into a house." He started taking a step towards me. 

I gulped my spit before trying to continue in my regular, confident tone, maintaining my guard. "What can I say now. So, just simply give it back to me." A tiny voice telling me that it's not gonna be simple. 

"You, as well as me, know that things won't be that way anytime soon." Tease was eminent in his tone. 

Taking a sharp breath and then giving out frustratedly I said, "What do you want? Ask me anything but return me those papers back!" 

He looked intensely at me with his lips tugged up with surprise. Not to get embarrassed I continued further. 

"Now what can a man like you want from me? That's quite a thoughtful question if you ask me. Definitely, it's not money. So that's a cross." I narrate, making an imaginary cross in front of me, in the air. 

"Oh, did you take it so I couldn't race and some of your friends or whatever could win? And I even met Christian there. Yeah, that's the reason." I could feel the shine in my eyes and mock in his. But it was the only reason he could have taken it. Definitely! 

"I didn't have an idea that you are such a narcissist. And I doubt even if you are an inch good."

"Not that I am gonna say anything to prove myself," I muttered, looking at my toes curling around the shreds in the carpet. 

He remained quiet and my mind was running miles per second to come up with the next option. I had no idea if he really had no clue about my caliber in racing or was he acting. 

"Do you want to fuck me?" And the words were out before I could think. His eyes magnified for a second with shock but I retreated my gaze, trying to keep my shame within. 

Looking away is cowardice. Looking into the eyes was a challenge. It was my choice. And I chose the later one.

My mouth was working again and I was struggling to keep up with the conversation. "But again why would you do that. There are plenty-" 

The smooth, cold wall kissed my back before I could even blink with his one hand on my shoulder and other beside my head. 

Can someone forget to breathe? 

Because I did. The lump in my throat grew bigger with passing seconds and I was fidgeting with my body parts trying to figure out how to react. My mind racing off limits to find a clue.

When his eyes captured mine, the intensity made my legs feel like boiled noodles, as my heart continued to hammer inside my ears. I didn't look away this time. I bore holes into his dark blue eyes.

Suddenly, I felt suffocated this close to him and jerked his hand off my shoulder. His eyes were tyrannizing, yelling ruthlessness, and claiming power. And the thought that he won't hurt me physically was not affirmative any more. I sank deeper into the wall, if it was even possible, to create some distance between us. 

"Would you let me fuck you?" His voice dropped a heavy count of decibels and it came out more like a growl. He was breathless too. 

I blinked a few times at the question, trying to decipher what he said. But even before the question could settle in my head, the feeling of shame surfaced. And then it was hatred for myself which imprisoned my being. My eyes never met him after that. 

"Do I get my stuff back if I say yes?" I breathed out, looking over his shoulder. His gaze shouted astonishment, confusion, disgust, and then pity. He pulled back roughly and I stumbled to grip the ground. 

"Women like you can do anything for money-" He seethed out. 

"Don't you dare judge me when you don't even know me," I shouted. 

He took a threatening step forward but I didn't budge.

"I know more than you think. I know you're a part of 'Domicile of Racers' for six years. Your father Alexander Hargrave was the CEO of 'Kings & Queens'. He died of a heart attack, living millions for you to bath in. After that his company was dysfunctional. You run the 'Child Care Centre' with two thousand children under the age of sixteen in there. You have mastered business and political science. You were never good with people in school or even high school. You never had any close friends. What the fuck I don't know about you?" 

He said with such temper and confidence that a blanket of goosebumps rose up my entire body. 

Taking a step ahead I shouted again, "You don't know that right now I don't even have money to pay my bills or for even food. I just have one meal a day. You know that I run an NGO but you don't have enough brain cells to decipher that it required money to run the errands. The government is not responding or providing funds. There is no entrepreneur taking our case either. Above that, a six-year-old girl is fighting with blood cancer but your pea-sized brain is incapable to see that the hospital demands payment. I swear if any kind of problem surfaces due to lack of money, I will clog your throat with my own bloody hands! "

My breath was labored as if I had run on a treadmill. My eyes fell to the ground as my hair tumbled down from either side. Having no idea why I feel lost and disappointed. I count till ten. 

"Meet me at my office at six tomorrow."

I don't know but why after every encounter with this man makes me feel like the entire structure of my bones has been rearranged? 

As if, I don't even have a hint of what's going on or what would happen? 

Why!? 

***