Tristan had left his house very early the next morning, first, to get a job somewhere quite shallow and where he wouldn't be recognized. Second, to make findings about his sister.
His sister, Helen, was dear to his heart. His parents were insensitive enough to abandon them, but he couldn't do the same thing to the little teenage girl.
After a fruitless search, he walked groggily to his apartment, with the wind blowing his oversized shirts and trousers. The smell of the fish he had bought on his way was so thick that passers-by had to turn once or twice to look at him as he walked.
At the gate of his house, he took notice of some bags, which he recognized to be his. The gate swung open, and his landlady popped out, having a stack of documents in her hands and dumping them on the floor.
"Ma'am!" He scuttled over to her side, making attempts to stop her. The old lady didn't falter; she flung every one of his belongings.
"What are you doing?! Stop this!"
"Shut up, you mother fucker!" The old lady cursed at him. "How dare you commit so much crime and still have the guts to come rent my storehouse!" She gritted. "If I knew you were a criminal, I wouldn't have allowed you in my house, and tonight, you shall leave!"
Landlady Moh continued throwing his things out, paying no heed to his explanations. The old lady was determined to throw him out of her house that evening.
It was getting late. Where could he possibly go? All his friends, especially those he thought were real, had all ditched him.
"Landlady Moh, there seems to be a misunderstanding. I am not a criminal."
"Shut your mouth this instant!!!!" The old lady raised a broomstick at him, and he ducked. "I should have known the moment you smashed my bucket yesterday. Do you know how hard my daughter worked to get me that beautiful bucket?"
"I'm sorry about the bucket, I will replace it and…"
"Get out! You criminal!" The lady yelled, hitting him ruthlessly with the broomstick, and he raised his hands to his face in defense.
"Mum, please be gentle. He is not a criminal." A teenage girl burst behind Landlady Mo, holding her back.
" Of course, he is." Lady Moh was extremely confident. "Thank goodness the handsome man who visited him came back to tell me. Oh, that sweet, handsome man. He told me everything."
Tristan straightened, his ear picking up her words. "The handsome man who visited me yesterday?" He inquired.
"Yes! The one who came in a black car. He said he was Baron Haine, the son of the president of the Spring group."
While the woman roared angrily, Tristan's hands slowly balled into a fist, and he subconsciously took a few steps backwards.
He should have known that Baron would pull ridiculous stunts against him since he refused to move in with his family.
He took in a deep breath, then he turned and began to walk away from the angry Lady Mo. He knew where Baron was going to be, and he was going to confront him.
[Spring Hotel.]
The sounds of tires screeching echoed from a distance. Millions of light fluttered like fireflies, adding life to the soft hum of conversation, laughter, and clinking of glasses.
Outside of the sprawling building, a security guard crossed briskly towards the black SUV, opening the back seat door for Cassandra to step into the building.
As she entered, she took her time to admire the sprawling building, richly furnished and opulent with crystal chandeliers and high ceilings. The soft golden lighting created an ambiance for the gleaming marble floors.
A waiter greeted at the sight of her and gently led her to the table by the window, where Baron was seated, his eyes very charming and radiating with elegance.
He was in the best shape. His presence exuded confidence and poise, and his smile was very welcoming. His dark hair was impeccably styled, and his neatly ironed suit accentuated his physique.
Above all, he smelled expensive.
'Hm, not bad.' Cassandra smiled charmingly at him.
"Hello, Babe." His voice deepened as he spoke, and he planted a soft kiss on her cheek, catching her unawares.
"Hi." She said simply as she took her seat and handed her bag over to Angela, who stood respectfully at the side.
"What would you like to eat?" Baron asked, passing the menu over to her. Lowering his voice, he continued, "I asked the waiters to put in a lot of effort into this. I really cannot wait for us to get married." He laughed softly.
Speaking of marriage, Cassandra knew she had to swing into action. "When are we getting married again?" She asked cunningly.
Baron chuckled. "On the 25th. Have you been working so hard lately, you seem to have forgotten, darling."
"Oh, I see." Cassandra nodded, looking outside the window, admiring the beautiful nightfall.
They were served a cup of champagne while they waited for their first treat, and a melodious music played in the background.
Cassandra looked outside the window briefly as she raised the glass up to her lips, but her brows furrowed at the figure that walked briskly down the street to the hotel.
He looked familiar. She shrugged and faced Baron to continue their conversation. However, she couldn't help but be distracted by the faint noises in the room.
"What's going on?" Baron asked one of his assistants.
"Sir, it's Tristan Mendez. He insists on seeing you." The assistant reported.
Before Baron could give an order, Tristan fought through the security's grip and walked down to Baron's table.
"Baron," Tristan called, staring deadly at him.
Baron laughed. "Oh, look who we have here? It's my dearest friend, Tristan Mendez."
Tristan Mendez. Cassandra nodded, finally being able to pin a name to the face. She recognized him. The human who challenged her after she raised an objection at Madeline's wedding.
Baron gently wrapped his arms around Tristan. "Welcome home." He said.
Tristan pushed him. "So, you are going to pull your stunts against me, as you've always done in the past, just for me to come live in your house?"
"Well, yes," Baron responded as he took his seat. "Lady Moh or whatever she is, that woman gets manipulated easily. I didn't even make much effort, and she believed me instantly. She almost called the cops on you, but I was quick to stop her."
"You jer…" Tristan wanted to curse him flat out. He balled his hands into a fist to hold back his anger. He continued. "Listen carefully, tell your dad I am going to pay whatever my father owes him. So, please, stay out of my business and let me live." Then he turned to leave.
"Oh, don't be foolish, Tristan," Baron uttered, and he stopped in his tracks. "You keep forgetting the fact that you have nothing. No family, not even a dime to your name. You need help. So, stop being haughty and submit yourself to me."
Tristan took in a long, deep breath, suppressing the volcano of anger that had erupted inside of him. Eyes locked on Baron; he glared enormously at him for some seconds and then took a turn and walked till he was out of their sight.
"So annoying," Baron muttered disgustfully.
Cassandra leaned forward. "Isn't he your friend?" She asked.
Baron rolled his eyes. "Cassandra, you know the story. Everyone does. I was forced to be friends with him because of Dad's relationship with his father. He thinks he is everything, so annoying." He hissed.
"Oh wow," Cassandra muttered. Raising her cup to her lips, she stared scrutinizingly at Baron, and at that very moment, she began to have a second doubt about him.