Chapter Forty Three

< Clarence’s POV >

If I would tell myself that I had finally forgotten who she was: her face, her voice, and her mannerisms, I would be lying straight to myself. After all, I pride myself on self-awareness and I don’t want to be blinded by my own feelings.

Not anymore.

It has been three years since then. I tried to forget. She used to be a beacon of my light, whom I thought would help me guide the right path of becoming a better person.

She made me later appreciate what life was without money. She was the only one who had been a positive influence on me.

Anastasia.

I met her when I witnessed her being thrown on the streets. Her own drunk father kicked her out and a lot of people watched her banging the door, begging to be inside.

Some looked at her with sympathy, others just went minding their own business.

Yet, none are willing to help her as she slumped down on the floor while her shoulders trembled.

I didn’t know what got into me, but I approached her, decided to offer a bit of kindness to her.

And when she turned to look at me with those brown eyes of desperation, I decided to bring her to my humble abode.

I decided to make her independent. Away from her abusive family and make her work as a main in the Benz household.

It was originally due to the act of kindness, you know? Philanthropy was something the affluent should do to gain prestige.

But...

Little did I know, I was already in love with those eyes.

Yes, like those soap opera dramas that I often hear among my female classmates.

I was fourteen, a young lad still fresh from a pubescent teen and we were around the same age.

And I was really hopelessly in love with her.

<<<>>>

“Hey, Clarence, looks like your latest prey isn’t here, yet.” One of the guys tagging along with me, stated the obvious.

It was lunchtime and I was looking at the window, my eyes looking intently at the entrance gates.

“Maybe she finally left school. You actually did it, Clarence!” One of them—ugh, which one of them actually said that? Didn't matter to me anymore who was talking anyway.

But I just rolled my eyes, finding it less amusing. Like she is the type to leave after that declaration, I thought to myself.

I took my phone out and dialed her number for the fifth time. Again, no response. And I have been wondering to myself how that little parvenu had the gall to be absent after she promised to give me the update the next day.

“You know, this is the first time someone actually challenged you. Not to mention, someone who is dumber than the scholars before her.”

“As they said, only the stupid could do dumb things.” And they continue to laugh.

Oh boy, how wrong they were.

Nina Caulfield may be academically challenged but I witnessed it myself: beneath that meekly-sheep in clothing lies a cunning fox. Not only a deceiving one but stealthy away from its prey.

That's the best way to describe Nina Caulfield.

She may have a lot of resemblance to Anastasia but she had one quality that I won’t deny admitting: she tells it to my face when she’s honest.

“But you know, Clarence, I noticed something different about you,” one of the girls said. And this time, I finally looked in her direction.

Ah, if it wasn’t Hannah, one of the girls who approached Nina on her first day of school.

“And what is it, hmm?” I asked, curiously.

“Well, I know Caulfield has been hard to catch with her legs and all. But you looked like you were having fun chasing her, Clarence.” She said, stating her facts as she was twirling her blond locks. “In other words, she piques your interest, Clarence.”

“No denying that,” I said while giving a dramatic shrug. “It would be so boring if it were that easy to capture her.”

“What will you do when you capture her, Clarence?” Mandy butted in, as her eyes glistened with curiosity and a mild lust as she gazed at my face.

At first, all I wanted was to make her afraid of ever coming back. But a part of me wanted to continue this little game she created just for the heck of it.

Perhaps the students were getting tired of this foreplay and wanted to see some progress.

“We’ll see when we cross that bridge.” At that, I smirked.

<<<>>>

“H-hey, Clarence,” Anastasia stammered as her face flushed bright pink. “I made s-something for y-you.”

I perked up, as she wrapped a velvet scarf around my neck. I blinked and later examined her gift.

It was velvet, most likely the yarn came from a thrift store and there were some tiny holes and inconsistent patterns in it.

“I k-know it isn’t much but I h-hope you like it.”

“You made this for me?” I smiled. “Thank you, Anastasia.” I stood up from my chair and caressed her cheeks. I enjoyed touching them because each time I did, she easily blushed.

“I love you,” I said while leaning as my lips touched hers.

“I always love you, Clarence,” she said as she smiled.

I was aware that Anastasia had a lot to learn. She was inept, not educated enough, and lacked the backbone to argue with me.

But she was kind and would do things that could easily swoon me over. She’s a stutterer, too. One of the reasons why her bastard father mocked her for it.

But I always found her stuttering cute.

Perhaps, I became a softie. Perhaps, Anastasia made me appreciate life more than the value of my status.

I loved her despite being fully aware that my parents were against it.

At that time, when I turned fifteen, if my parents, especially my own mother, continued to defy our relationship, I made up my mind by cutting my ties with the Benz family.

<<<<<>>>>>

“Sir, we’re here.”

My eyes flutter, registering my mind that I’m now back in the present, inside the limousine and the head driver calls to awaken me from my...nap.

Ugh.

Out of all days to have a dream about her, it had to be today.

After I finally reached out to that little parvenu, we both decided that we should follow what she wants.

As to why I didn’t coerce her to have the meeting at her house? I don’t know, honestly.

And I couldn’t care less anymore.

I get out of the vehicle and take my Vorspack drawstring backup with me. “I will call you when I need you back.”

“Certainly, sir.”

I nod with approval and walk straight inside the Pizza Place.

As expected, the place is crowded. I scan the room, to see if she arrives here first, and no surprises there: Nina is at the far left corner, sitting comfortably in the best place away from the noise.

And Nina Caulfield is transfixed on texting someone on her phone.

I smirk.