Falling for Ocean Blue [BxB] ✔️

Chapter Fifty

Are you still a millionaire tycoon without your millions?

The answer punctures his Gucci suit like two gold cuff links.

Hugh is the spitting image of my brother. Built and heavily masculine in a way that is understated by soft brown eyes. Years of substance abuse has withered his eyes to a chalky black. I think to a time I used to hide cocaine in a suit like his.

The upturn of his mouth is arrogant. Hugh lives in a moment of time where he was messiah over his wealth. He declined a meeting in a Starbucks, in favour of a rooftop gentlemen's club. Patrons have barely started to trickle in, adorned in luxury brands and mail-order brides. The wine stain on his collar tells me he never went home.

A waiter takes our order but coolly ignores me. He senses money in one pole of our table.

"Maxence."

Hugh Gellar is the only person alive to call me Maxence. It makes me cringe with burning rage.

 I take a sip of water, pressing my callouses into the cold glass.

"Three hundred and eighty-four calls over the period of 10 months." I recite.

Hugh scoffs.

"So, you've been receiving my calls?"

My heart palpitates uncomfortably in my chest as he drags one slow eye across my steeling expression.

"You buried your mother?" He asks cooly.

"Cremated."

A moment thunders inside the whites of his canine.

"She was Catholic, you little shit!" He hisses.

I sigh.

"Hell is a lot hotter than a crematorium."

The same routine. 

I have less patience now at seventeen. The man is drab in his chameleon colours. In my uniform, it might look like a loving father treating his son to breakfast. If they inspect closer, they might see the violent streak in his eyes or the way my spine is unrelenting, ready to defend myself. 

Hugh sighs exasperatingly. He moves a hand through his hair, swiping away traces of a gel cast. His wedding finger is permanently bleached with failure. I inspect it closer, wondering how two families came from a single ring finger. 

Suddenly, the man looks like a stranger. 

"Where is she?"

"She's in Macarthur Park."

"You scattered her, already?" He sounds disappointed.

Rebecca would be elated to know her lucid lover cares for her only in death. The best revenge come two years too late.  On second thoughts, hell is no place for a woman who did her best. She must at least be in the lowest depths of heaven. The perfect place to watch her two 'favourite boys' reunite.

My bag is open at the seams by my feet. Inside, papers inked on dotted lines pulse with anticipation. A clock, nearby, chimes every hour bringing me closer to suspicion. He watches me in silence. 

My phone rings. I answer it, glad for a moment to gather myself in little pieces, recover and start again.

"Hi."

"Max? Where are you?"

"I'm walking to school."

Kitty shouts in the background.

"Can I ride your bike?"

"Only if she rides it back home after..."

"Max says..."