C6 Chapter 6: Privacy Invasion

< Shirley >

"The number you are trying to reach is currently unreachable-" before the anonymous woman could complete her sentence I darted my new phone towards the wall, out of frustration.

I sat down on the edge of my bed with an exaggerated huff, trying to calm myself.

It had been three days since I was trying to contact Dylan but to no avail. His phone was turned off. Neither had he been to the office. As if he had vanished from my radar to escape training me. That jerk.

My blood was boiling like magma, and I was getting itchy to vent out my anger at someone. Losing the last string of my patience, I grabbed my car keys from the nightstand before heading out.

I parked my Mercedes-Benz in front of the office gate and stormed inside, only this time no one tried to stop me. Rather everyone just eyed me. Probably because hot steam was coming out of my ears.

I slammed my palm on Nina's desk, startling her. She almost broke her pen.

"What do you want now?" Nina groaned recovering from the momentary shock.

"Your boss," I said.

"What about him?" She wriggled her eyebrows at me, clueless.

"Why is he not receiving my calls? And where is he?" As per the information I received, Dylan hadn't been to the office lately as well.

Nina narrowed her eyes at me and deadpanned, "How am I supposed to know? I'm his receptionist, not PA."

"Ugh! Why is his phone switched off?" I whined.

"I won't ask how you got his personal number because I'm sure I'll be creeped out," she muttered, letting out a huff.

If she actually asked me, I would tell her. As she didn't, I was still going to tell her. "I managed to get his number from my dad's phone book," I whispered, leaning closer to her.

Since the two of them were businessmen, it wasn't too surprising to find Dylan's contact number in my dad's business contact diary.

"Nina, tell me about his whereabouts," I pleaded, shaking her hand vigorously.

"I can't tell you something I don't know myself."

I twitched my lips. "Then give me his address."

"Excuse me?" She gave me an 'are-you-in-your-right-state-of-mind' look.

"Excused." I flashed her a twinkling wide fake smile.

Nine shrugged her shoulders and said, "It's private information, it can't be shared. I sure as hell am not sharing that with you."

"Why? Does he live in slums? Or he's homeless? That's probably why you don't want to give me his home address," I commented to get a reaction out of her.

"God, you are unbelievable!" she exclaimed.

Afterward, I pestered Nina for a good ten minutes until she admitted that she didn't contain his personal information, but his personal assistant did. Therefore, I had his PA give me his address, not before offering her a good sum of money—that was a piece of cake. Not everyone was loyal like Nina after all.

About an hour later, I found myself standing in front of the gates of a beautiful silver mansion—more like a palace, guarded by many armed watchmen.

"What business do you have here?" asked a watchman.

"I want to meet Dylan," I replied. "Is he at home?"

He nodded and again asked, "Your business with him?"

I told him the truth since I would be coming here more than a few times, now that Dylan was my trainer. Then the watchmen told me that they had to check me and my car up first for security purposes.

I smiled and let them do whatever they wanted. But on the inside, I was letting the rage pile me up so that I could blow up like a volcano in front of Dylan.

Only I knew how I was controlling my fists, which were itching to punch Dylan square in the face. But alas, I would be damned if I spoiled his handsome face. However, he was still up for an earful. If I didn't make his ear bleed with my yelling, then I would stop eating cake for a month.

When the check-up was over, I entered the mansion while gawking at the beautifully crafted front yard. As I reached the threshold, I was greeted by an old maid, who had slight grey hair mixed with her chestnut brown hair.

"Hello, miss. How can I help you?" she asked with a sweet smile.

"Um, I want to meet Dylan."

"Then you would have to wait a bit. He returned home just half an hour ago from a business trip, so he's freshening up right now."

"Oh."

"You can wait in the living room." The maid guided me towards the spacious living room, a staircase on its left. "Would you like some tea or coffee, miss?" she asked.

"Coffee," I responded with a small smile.

The maid smiled and left me alone. I took it as an opportunity and made my way upstairs through the nearest staircase. Once I reached the first floor, there were two corridors on both sides. Believing my guts, I took the left.

As I walked through the long corridor, I focused on any sound that might be coming. Reaching the end of it, I heard the sound of a shower running.

Bingo! That must be his room.

That was it for Dylan. He was so dead. I was going to hang him on the ceiling fan or throw him off the balcony, just do anything and harm him. I was fucking pissed at him for leaving me hanging.

Without knocking, I barged in. I had no doubts left that it was Dylan's bedroom once the not-so-familiar but unforgettable fragrance of his cologne hit my nostrils. His faint scent was all over the place. And it was addictive.

I looked around the huge room. With how neat and clean everything was there, I cringed. I hated too much cleanliness. The walls and furniture were all in neutral shades—grey, white, and black. How very Dylan-like.

I noticed a blazer and his laptop were cast aside on his king-sized bed, and a new pair of folded clothes resting beside them. I had a sudden evil urge to burn the blazer and step on his laptop with my heels.

Why not delete some of his data? suggested my satanic subconscious.

I was going to do that, so I crouched down to grab the laptop, but just then I heard the bathroom door click. I froze up in my spot.

"What the fuck are you doing in my bedroom?" came Dylan's alarmed voice.

What should I do? What should I do?

My head was spinning with the pressure. If he got to know, I was going to sabotage his laptop, he was sure to throw me to the gallows—not that I was scared of him.

That's why, as a way to counter the situation, I straightened up and decided to vent out my earlier anger at him.

I was going to make him deaf with my high-pitched voice. "How dare you not pick up my call? Do you have any idea how worried I was? I thought you ditched me!" I continued yelling as I turned around, "Now when I get here, I get to know you were just out on business…" My voice died in my throat when my eyes fell on a half-naked Dylan, wearing only his black trousers and a grey towel around his neck.

Holy motherfucking gold-laying goose!

His hand that was rubbing his soaking black hair with the towel was frozen midair, letting the water droplets slide by his cheekbones. His slightly slacked jaw and the towel covering half of his hair gave him a somewhat adorable look, which was overshadowed by the sight of his chiseled chest and abs below—which were a real treat to the eyes.

Just a simple question, why did God make such an arrogant person so freaking hot?

Reclaiming his consciousness, Dylan snapped, "What are you doing here?"

My brain was way too distracted to be able to form coherent words right then. "I, uh, um… erm… err," were the only scrambled words that came out of my mouth. I could feel warmth creeping up to my cheeks, and I felt hot inside.

"Have you lost your annoying voice, or did your dysfunctional brain finally give up on you?" he commented sarcastically, starting to rub his hair once again.

I wanted to speak up, but my eyes were fixed on the water droplets trailing down his upper body to his lower abdomen.

I turned my back to him as a courtesy, not because I couldn't handle such an incredible sight. Definitely not.

"N-no," I stuttered out.

"Ah, that's a shame, and here I was thinking to throw a party on that occasion." He let out an exaggerated sigh, while I tried to pick up my brain cells. "By the way, how did you manage to get in my room? Don't tell me you climbed the pipes like those corny romantic stories."

Ugh, could he stop talking? I couldn't focus on trying not to focus on the displays of his body which were now threaded in my memory.

"Would you say something or remain frozen there like some damn statue?" Dylan grumbled.

What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I turn around and shout at him like I was supposed to?

It wasn't like I had never seen a guy shirt before—or fully naked for that matter. I mean, you know, in porn.

Well, it's the real deal, not some corny porn video character, said my subconscious.

Shaking my head vigorously, intaking a large breath, I said shakily, "Can you please put on a shirt? It's rude to talk to someone like that."

"What, are you too embarrassed to look at me? Or you have got a crush on me now?" Dylan snickered.

"Keep dreaming," I said, not so very confidently. I wasn't crushing on him, right?

"Then why don't you turn around?" he challenged. His voice felt much closer than before.

"It's a basic courtesy," saying so, I slowly started turning around, building up the confidence that I wouldn't flush red at the sight of him, but that went down the gutter when I found myself standing only a few inches apart from Dylan.

My breath hitched, seeing his grey orbs peering at me. His parted lips made me want to press my lips on his in a quick second for feeling pleasure. Enticing. Magical.

"It's also a basic courtesy to knock on the door before entering someone's bedroom," he said in a low, husky tone.

I didn't know why, but I nodded my head. He increased the closeness, taking a step forward, the fresh smell of his shampoo and intoxicating scent of his body wash overwhelming all my senses. I closed my eyes, waiting for something to happen. I didn't know what I was waiting for. I just…

He bent down, his bare arm brushing with mine. The contact between our skin lingered for a moment before he backed away, instantly making me feel hollow.

It really was a tiny crush on him that was probably making me feel butterflies in the pit of my stomach. It also could be that staying single for too long was getting to me. Yeah, that was it. Nothing more.

I opened my eyes to see him standing in his previous place, pulling a t-shirt over his head.

Then it hit me. He was just trying to get his t-shirt which was resting on the bed right behind me. It was all so stupid.

All these overpowering emotions that I felt were just for a goddamn t-shirt. How fucking conniving!

Anger flared inside me in full throttle. I was going to do something really bad now.