Twice The Trouble Book 2 of 2: Twice The Love

Chapter 43: Rolling Downhill

Stacy

The first week of October scared away the cold weather of September. With a scorching vengeance, the Philippine sun dominated everything its blazing heat could touch.

October's first Monday morning found me standing in front of an ATM machine of Metro Bank. I wore a simple pink shirt, skinny jeans, open-toed sandals, and of course, my pink headband and silver half-heart necklace.

First, I handled Sophia's account. She was too swamped with school deadlines so she passed her savings card to me so I could monitor her own money. Yes, I know her PIN number. She knows mine as well. I jabbed in her PIN and I smiled when I saw the seven figures light up on the blue screen. Being a famous and successful author was synonymous to heavy pockets.

I slid my blue ATM card into the horizontal slot, then I punched in my PIN number with caution.

My right forefinger pressed "Check Balance" when the screen prompted me to choose a transaction. I just wanted to make sure my savings were growing safely. I opened up my first account when I was thirteen, the age when I began working as a part-time model. Now, six years later, I felt rather proud to say I've saved up a practical amount of money for my future.

The calm smile on my pink lips disappeared when my sky blue eyes met the blue screen.

2,000,000 said the white numbers against an azure background.

My heart plummeted to my feet. "This.. this isn't right," I told myself, a sudden prickling crawling over the skin on my arms.I pressed my lips together, struggling to stay sane at the situation.

I had checked my balance last week and it had showed a steady sum of 4.3 million!

"How the hell did this happen?" My light blue eyes burned holes into the blue screen.

I angrily snatched my ATM card from the machine, trying to make sense of my dilemma.

Was I robbed?

With forced poise, I gracefully strutted into the grand bank, a gust of cold wind hitting my flawless face. The sound of deft taps on keyboards and answering machines beeping filled the chilled air.

From across the white, pristine room, a familiar face looked up from her computer, and though she tried to maintain a professional facade, the bank employee's dark eyes gleamed with delight upon seeing me.

Veronica De Leon, the 28-year-old brunette who made my account for me 6 years ago.

I took a seat in front of her desk. "Good morning," I greeted my lovely friend.

"Good morning, Miss Stacy," she said, returning my bland smile. Veronica nodded at me. "How may I help you today?"

I cleared my throat and flashed her a stern look. "I would like to file a complaint."

Sophia

Come Monday afternoon, I swung by Lucas's office in hopes of seeing him and talking to him; a few days ago, he finally managed to contact me and explained to me that he suddenly needed to fly to Japan, then to Rome, and then to Hong Kong before eventually returning to the Philippines.

His phone had been on airplane mode during all his tedious flights, and he was bombarded with business meetings and conferences so he couldn't communicate with anyone from home.

Still, he could have sent me one text. I had wanted to tell him those words but he looked so tired and worn out from his abrupt business trip, I decided against it.

"Oh, you're here again." The dry comment came from none other than Felicity Campos, Lucas's secretary and, according to Stacy's terse investigation, a Finance and Economics major in Orion University. She was also nineteen years old and in her third year of college.