My eyes snap open, and I gasp for air, the lingering remnants of the nightmare fading like mist into the ether.

As I stare at the ceiling, a fog of confusion envelops me. The room is cloaked in darkness, with only the faint glimmer of the rising sun outside casting feeble light upon the walls. I feel disoriented, like a traveler emerging from a dense forest into an unfamiliar clearing.

It takes a few moments for my racing heart to find its rhythm, and I blink several times to reassure myself that I’m awake. I place my hands on my face and pinch one of my cheeks, feeling a wave of relief wash over me as I wince in pain. The sharp sting is a visceral reminder that I’m awake, that I’ve escaped the clutches of the nightmare.

“Fuck my life,” I whisper under my breath as I rub my groggy eyes.

It’s been two months since the last time I endured a nightmare like that. Two months of peace and quiet, without dreaming the same dream that’s been haunting me for years. Truth be told, I was starting to wonder if I’d have the same dream again...

Sometimes it feels like some supernatural force is fucking with me, haunting me with emotions that I’d long hope to forget. It seems as though that same nightmarish specter always seems to return to me unfailingly, a cruel reminder of the miserable life I once endured... Thankfully, the nightmare is over... For now.

As I shift under the covers, I become acutely aware of the dampness clinging to my body. My shirt is soaking wet, sticking uncomfortably to my skin. To be honest, I’m a bit embarrassed that this bloody dream still seems to have this sort of effect on me, even after all this time... I mean, after a decade of having the same dream, I should be better at coping with it... Right?

I sit up, discarding my sweat-soaked shirt as I prepare to cast off the lingering echoes of that haunting nightmare. But just as I’m about to step away from my bed, a soft, gentle hand reaches out from under the covers and takes hold of my wrist.

What the fuck!?!

My heart leaps in my chest, and for a brief, heart-pounding moment, fear courses through me like an electric shock.

My first instinct is to pull away, to recoil from the unexpected touch.

As my racing heart gradually steadies, the fog of fear begins to lift. Fragments of the previous night’s memories begin to resurface, like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle falling into place. The scent of her perfume, the soft laughter that had filled the room, and the intimate moments we’d shared—all remnants of my night with Becky, the woman I spent the night with.

My breath escapes in a shaky exhale as I let my body relax. The room transforms from an enigmatic maze into a sanctuary of familiarity. I glance to my side, where Becky lies, her tousled hair framing her serene face.

“So, did you enjoy last night?” Becky asks, pulling me under the covers with a playful tug.

Now that our faces are practically inches apart, I notice her eyes sparkling with a hint of morning mischief and I can’t help but chuckle. Over the past three months, she’s been nothing short of persistent, throwing herself at me, quite literally at times, and I’ve been playing hard to get.

No, that doesn’t sound right... My cold behavior toward her wasn’t meant to encourage her but in fact to do the opposite... I mean, truth be told, I was never really interested in sleeping with Becky...

Yesterday, though, was a different story. As I returned home, weary from the day’s demands, there she was, waiting for me in the lobby of my apartment complex, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a bottle of wine in hand. Maybe it was the nagging twinge of loneliness or just a longing for some genuine connection that had finally tipped the scales, prompting me to let my guard down and, well, spend the night with her.

Wait a moment... On second thought, how does she know where I live? I don’t recall giving her my home address...

Fuck... David must’ve given her my address... That freaking loser...

Good thing she’s here though... I’m feeling kind of horny...

“Do you really want to know if I enjoyed our night together?”

Becky nods eagerly, staring up at me with big puppy-like eyes.

“I’ll only answer your question if you help me with something first,” I reply, slowly wrapping my arms around her back.

“What do you need help with?”

I carefully pull her body closer to mine and bury my face in her neck. “I want to fuck you again... I want to fuck you good...”

“You’re a prick, you know that?” Becky’s lips part into a grin as I pecker her neck with kisses.

I shrug.

The moment I pull back, Becky slides her body over mine, her mouth catching my jaw, nipping at the skin there. “If I let you fuck me, will you take me out to dinner?”

“I don’t know...”

The moment the words leave my lips, Becky’s kisses halt. Before I can even register what’s happening, she sits up, crosses her arms, and glares down at me. “If you promise to take me out to dinner later this week, I’ll sleep with you right now. How does that sound?”

“Uh... I have a really busy schedule these next couple of days, you know...”

“That’s not the answer I want to hear,” Becky says as she reaches down to massage my cock.

Fucking hell, who the fuck does she think she is to make demands like this... She’s fucking crazy... If I wasn’t so fucking horny, I would’ve kicked her out ages ago...

Anyway, moving on to the matter at hand... If I say no, there’s no way she’s going to let me fuck her and to be honest, I’m really, really horny right now... I really want to fuck, which means I need to come up with a good answer... A plausible answer...

“As I mentioned earlier, I’m going to be very busy in these next couple of days.” I carefully place a hand on her back and slowly bring her body closer to mine. “But, I can take you out to a nice restaurant to eat breakfast after we’re done here... What do you say?”

For a moment I see a hint of hesitance in her gaze, but the moment I slide one of my hands between her parted thighs I can tell that I’ve won this debate.

“It better be the best breakfast I’ve ever had,” Becky half whispers and moans, as her lips brush over the skin on my neck.

“...”

“Fancy seeing you here.” David sits on the seat next to mine and raises his hand to call over the bartender. “So, you gonna tell me how it went?”

I shake my head and pull my phone from my pocket to check the time. “Didn’t I tell you to stop giving people my address?”

“Did you?” David says, feigning ignorance.

“I did...”

“Well, that’s too bad, ’cause I forgot.”

I gulp down the last bit of my cocktail and sigh. “Well, if you do it again, I’m going to tell your mom that you broke up with Melissa.”

“Wow...” David gawks, feigning a look of disbelief. “I can’t believe that you’d stoop so low.”

If it was any other day, I’d be down to joke around. But not today, especially after dealing with an irritating Becky for the better part of the day. “Fuck off... I’m not in the mood for jokes today, David.”

David looks at me, then back at the bartender to finish ordering his drinks. “Why do I get the feeling that something else is going on here?”

“...”

“Is everything okay back home, Roman?”

“You do realize I live by myself, right?”

“I meant back home where your parents live.”

“You know I don’t talk to them.” I clench my fists on my lap, forcing my mouth to close.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

“Very well then.” David hands the bartender a tip as he places his drink on the counter. “So, why’d you call me on a Sunday night?”

“I wanted to talk about the meeting.”

“What meeting?”

I wave my hand in the air to call the bartender over. He gives me a quick nod to signal he’ll be right with me as he finishes preparing a cocktail for a woman sitting on the other side of the bar. “Tomorrow’s meeting.”

David sighs and takes a drink from his beer. “I thought you didn’t care about the meeting...”

I shrug. “Well, I’ve had a change of heart.”

“You seem to be having a lot of those lately... Maybe you might have a change of heart with Becky, eh?” David chuckles, punching my arm playfully.

“Fuck off.” I turn my attention back to the bartender who’s walking toward me.

“What can I get you?”

“Rum and Coke, please.”

The young bartender smiles at me as he pulls an empty glass from a rack and fills it with ice.

“I don’t get it... Becky is a nice girl, and she’s hot as fuck... What isn’t there to like?” David shakes his head as he takes another swig of his beer.

Fucking hell... Here we go again...

“You know, if you keep treating women like disposable objects, you might actually end up alone and miserable.”

“I think you should mind your own damn business.” I hand a twenty-dollar bill to the bartender as he wordlessly slides my drink across the bar. “You should be more like me, David... After all, you never see me asking or talking about your personal life...”

David nods his head back and chuckles. “That’s because I’m an open book. I always tell you everything... Now, you dragged me out of bed on a Sunday night, so I think this is the least you can do... Please explain to me why it’s impossible for you to have any sort of real connection with women?”

Fuck... I might need another drink if I’m going to talk about this soppy shit...

“You know damn well why I don’t trust women...”

David shakes his head. “No, actually I don’t...”

Fucking hell... Maybe texting him to come wasn’t the best idea... This is what I get for being a moron...

“We both know that the only reason Becky’s trying to get with me is because I’m rich.”

David shrugs. “So what?”

Is he really this fucking stupid? No wonder it took him six months to realize Melissa was cheating on him... What a dumbass...

“I didn’t call you here for a therapy session...” I gulp down the rest of my drink and slam the glass down on the counter. “The reason I called you here is because I want a run down about how things are going.”

“What a party pooper... All you care about is work, eh?” David sighs, his eyes turning to the television on the wall. “So much for having a work-life balance...”

“I’m the CEO of a company. Work-life balance doesn’t apply to me... Now, tell me about tomorrow!”

“Yeah... Yeah...” David rests his chin on his palm. “Is there anything specific you want to know, or just a rundown?”

“Just a rundown.”

“Fine. But I’m going to need another drink.” David straightens his back and calls for the bartender. “Please give me the best scotch you have.”

“Right away, sir.”

I watch as the bartender quickly pours David a glass of scotch and slides it over. “That’ll be twenty-two dollars, sir.”

“Open a tab for me, I might be ordering more soon.”

The bartender smiles and nods. “Of course, sir.”

David takes a sip of his scotch, his gaze trailing back to me. “The agency we’re merging with, StellarTalent, is a behemoth in the industry. We’re talking A-list celebrities, top-tier artists, the whole shebang. This could catapult Biasbreak to unprecedented heights.”

The name ‘StellarTalent’ rolls off his tongue with a sense of grandeur that sends a shiver down my spine. I contemplate the magnitude of what’s at stake, the weight of the decision we’re about to make.

“But, Roman,” David continues, leaning even closer, his voice dropping to a near-whisper, “they won’t take any prisoners. Negotiations will be brutal, and they’ll be looking to seize control.”

I lean back, digesting his words. StellarTalent’s reputation precedes them—ruthless, cunning, and unapologetic in their pursuit of power. I’ve always known that if we’re to survive this merger, we need to be prepared to fight tooth and nail.

David’s eyes bore into mine. “We need a game plan, Roman. We can’t let them dictate the terms. We’ve built Biasbreak from the ground up, and we can’t afford to lose control now.”

I clench my fists beneath the table, my determination solidifying. “I’m assuming you have a plan?”

“Yeah, I do...” David finishes his scotch, letting out a deep exhale. “I have a plan... But it’s going to be hard.”

“Hard?”

David nods. “It might take weeks, maybe months, maybe even a year or two... I’m going to drag the negotiations for as long as I can until I’ve secured our positions.”

“Very well, then. I’ll leave this matter in your hands.”

David’s brows furrow, his concern evident. “Does that mean you won’t be attending the meeting tomorrow?”

My phone vibrates in my pocket, a brief interruption that draws my attention away from David’s query. I retrieve it and notice a text from a number I haven't seen in a while. A pang of curiosity, mixed with a tinge of anxiety, grips me as I tap on it.

Roman, we need to talk...

For a moment, I’m frozen in place, staring at those words on my screen. It’s been over a year since I’ve had any communication with my mother. What could she possibly want now? My thoughts swirl in a tempest of emotions—doubt, apprehension, and a flicker of anger.

David clears his throat, jolting me back to the present. His concern deepens as he repeats his question, “Roman, about tomorrow’s meeting...”

I shake my head, my focus still lingering on the enigmatic message. “On second thought, David, I trust you can handle this on your own.”

David sighs, his frustration evident. “I was going to tell you this tomorrow, but I really need you to be at that meeting, Roman.”

What the fuck is he on about? Why does he suddenly want me to go... What a headache... Maybe I shouldn’t have shown interest in the first place. “I’m not a lawyer like you, David. What good would it do for me to be there?”

David chuckles, his expression shifting from exasperation to amusement. “Roman, you may not be a lawyer, but you’re a legend.”

Confusion clouds my features as I lean in, seeking an explanation. “What are you rambling on about?”

David leans closer, his voice a conspiratorial whisper. “In the corporate world, people fear you because you’re ruthless! Your presence alone carries weight, and it sends a clear message that we won’t back down.”

Oh, I see where he’s going with this...

“So, you want me to show up in order to send a message?”

David claps his hands together with a nod, a satisfied smile crossing his lips. “Exactly, Roman! We need to show them that we’re not to be trifled with. Your presence will be a statement!”

I release a resigned sigh, my resolve wavering once again. “You know, David, you have a way of being incredibly convincing. But I can see through it... I’m not going!”

David’s face falls, a mixture of exasperation and disappointment. “Roman, come on, you have to be there! Even if it’s just for a short while.”

“Not happening.”

“If you go, I’ll let you borrow my Aston Martin for a week!”

“Three months,” I counter.

David shakes his head. “One month!”

I lean back in my chair, fingers drumming a restless rhythm on the tabletop. “Fine, I’ll go, but only for the first couple of minutes.”

David’s eyes light up with relief, his persuasive skills having won the day. “That’s all we need, Roman. Trust me, this merger is our golden opportunity, and your presence will ensure we seize it.”

“It’s a deal, then.”

“Yes, it is!”

The air hangs heavy with the weight of our agreement, and I sense my exhaustion beginning to kick in as I check my phone for the time. “It’s getting late, David..”

David chuckles. “No shit...”

I stretch out my arm, gesturing for him to hand something over. At first, he pretends not to understand, raising an eyebrow playfully, but then he sighs in defeat, handing over the keys to his Aston Martin.

“If you like my car so much, maybe you should buy one for yourself,” he teases.

I chuckle at his remark. “David, there are only ten of these cars in the world, and if it weren’t for you, one of them would’ve been mine.”

David raises his middle finger, playfully jesting. “How will I get home without a car?!”

I snort in response, standing up from my seat and patting him on the back. “You’ll figure it out. After all, you’re a millionaire!"

"Are you serious?!"

I playfully wink at him as I step into the elevator. "YEP!"

"Fuck you!" I hear him say just before the elevator doors close.

As the elevator starts its descent, I can’t help but stare at the car keys in my hands. My chest is buzzing with excitement. The mere sight of those keys represents not just access to an extraordinary beast but also the lengths David was willing to go to persuade me. He must've been truly desperate to let me borrow a three-million-dollar vehicle.

What a suck-up...

The elevator doors part, revealing the underground parking lot, and my eyes are instantly drawn to a marvel of modern engineering. It's an Aston Martin that gleams like a precious gem in the soft ambient light. A grin tugs at my lips as I approach it.

Now, that is what I call a car!!!

I unlock the car door and slide into the driver's seat, easing myself into the embrace of the plush leather upholstery. “Can’t believe it’s been six months since he bought this car and I still haven’t driven it... Guess I better make the best out of it for the next thirty days...”

I ignite the engine, and the car responds with a powerful roar that echoes through the underground parking lot. The dashboard lights up with a mesmerizing display of colors, a blend of artistry and technology that mirrors the night outside.

As I press my foot on the gas pedal, the Aston Martin glides smoothly out of the parking lot. The steering is incredibly responsive, and I can sense the raw power coursing through the vehicle. It’s like a dream come true—an exhilarating experience that leaves bystanders in awe as the car glides by, turning heads and eliciting admiration.

As I navigate the city streets in the beautiful silver beast, nightfall begins to envelop the world around me. The city lights twinkle like distant stars, and the engine’s gentle purr serves as a soothing soundtrack to my thoughts.

The notification from my mother’s text message lingers in my mind, an uninvited guest at the forefront of my thoughts. Memories of our last encounter flood my consciousness, replaying like a relentless movie reel. The fiery argument, the harsh words exchanged, and my dramatic exit from a restaurant—all fueled by the revelation that she was dating a man whose name I’ve intentionally purged from my memory.

Fuck... What was his name again? Was it Albert? Arthur? Aiden perhaps?

Since that argument, our contact has been sporadic at best, and it’s been months since I last heard from her. I can’t help but wonder why she’s chosen now to reach out. A sense of unease gnaws at me, a feeling that something is amiss. I’ve learned to trust my instincts, and they’re telling me this isn’t just a casual message.

What could she possibly want to talk to me about? Didn’t I tell her to fuck off and leave me alone?

Maybe she doesn’t understand what the word “fuck off” means... I probably should’ve reiterated it slowly...

Regardless... All I know is that if I’d listened to my guts earlier in my life, I would have avoided enormous amounts of pain... I would have never fallen for... For her...

Snap out of it, you douche... Stop thinking about her!

Realizing that I’m only a couple of minutes away from my house, I shake my head, as if physically dispelling those negative thoughts. I need to stay focused. I detest distractions, especially the frivolous ones. Whatever my mother wants to discuss will have to wait; I have far more pressing matters to attend to. I should be completely focused on the imminent meeting that could shape the future of my company.

With renewed determination, I navigate the final stretch of my journey home. The challenges that await me, both in the corporate world and in the cryptic message from my estranged mother, will be confronted head-on. For now, I relegate her unsettling message to the back of my mind, eager to address it at a more convenient time.