chapter ii

CLEO'S P.O.V

I tap my nails against the laptop keyboard waiting for the sign up to be complete which was unfortunately at the mercy of my slow wifi. I hate anything slow. Slow walkers. Slow wifi. Slow deaths.

I breath a victory sigh when the sign up is done before clicking on the display picture and changing it to the one I found on the internet yesterday. I search for the one name this whole beautiful trap is being set for and send him a follow request.

But just to make my account a bit less suspicious I send a few more follow requests to some random people in my suggestion list. Now I just have to wait for him to accept my request and then I begin my operation.

I pick up my phone from the night stand and send a quick text to let Eva know that I was done with stage one. A few minutes later she replies back.

What is the fake profile's name?-E

Fiona Cross-C

Oooh a pretty name! It's bound to get him (cue evil laugh) ;)-E

I snort at her message before selecting my shower playlist. It's one of these days I wish I were born a boy instead then maybe my mom, Andra Summers, wouldn't force me to attend these stupid dinners she had for meeting with her investors.

After a very long shower, I blow dry my hair and change into a cute pale green romper and my most prized possession-my white slip on vans. Now I know this outfit doesn't exactly scream 'dinner with the rich' but hey I like it. Period.

I grab my phone and earphones as I scurry down the stairs towards my mom's room. She looks up from her cluttered desk and motions me to get in the car first but not before shaking her head at me in amusement when she glances at my outfit.

***

"Hey there my name is Cleo. Nice to meet you too" I fake smile at the overly enthusiastic couple. The husband trying to keep a hold on his very last button which was just about pop out because of his protruding belly and the wife trying to smile as much as possible to bring attention to her face rather than the wig on her head the colour of which was polar opposite to her eyebrows. Nice.

They greet me back amicably before getting back to discussing about work. I swipe out my phone from my romper's pocket and plug in my earphones in my left ear and cover it up with my hair. Uh-huh. That's exactly how we do it, b*tches.

I do this all the time on such occasions which also includes school. Don't tell them that I told you. I keep the volume on low and mumble the lyrics under my breath giving the classy diner a once over. Not bad. But still too dull for my taste. I like loud places where there is good music playing and of course great company. No question there.

Just when I reach to the chorus, the doors to the diner burst open and in strolls a male. He makes a bee line for our table and I raise my brows at the sight of him. Don't forget the gag.

Shane Marshall's face looked the epitome of stomach-churning, off-putting and nasty. And I was not just talking about his face. His personality sucked as much as the description I gave.

His brows were creased in a frown and his breath came out in short pants as he wiped a hand across his red face covered in moisture. Jeez. He looks like he ran a marathon and the prize was being called the worst human being ever. No wonder he looks like he won.

"So nice of you to finally join us son" the protruding belly man reprimanded his apparent son who was very close to rolling his eyes. His mother gestures him to take a seat across me.

When he finally looks away from his pissed off father, his eyes land on me. He raises a brow at me in surprise as if just noticing me. When I suspect the beginnings of a flirty grin on his face I, in a moment of pure urgency and anguish, flick my fork using my middle finger and thumb towards him. The fork hits the glass of water instead and it tips over.

Following events...

So as a result of my doings, the front of Shane's jeans has a dark wet patch. Even his dress shirt suffered a bit. Actually try a lot. Thankfully nobody noticed that it was in fact my fault and Shane didn't really get to put in a word during his father's angry rant. Shane cut the rant short by getting up and heading towards the washroom to do some damage control.

My mom gives a pointed look as if saying that I shouldn't be just sitting here and enjoying the drama and instead should be helping the guy. Yeah right.

"Cleo, sweetie, why don't you and Shane head upstairs and play a round of snooker or two. Till then we adults can wrap things up here". The forced smile on my mom's face was cringe worthy. I narrow my eyes at her words and her smile even broadens as if to say. Any questions young lady?

"Why of course mother dearest" I grit my teeth before shooting her a blinding smile and getting up from my seat. This was actually better than staying here. Shane was still in the washroom but I couldn't risk him telling what actually ensued here. If that were to happen the next five days my mom would force me to do the dishes.

It's a punishment we both follow by. If she takes me somewhere which is related to her work and I behave nicely (I know what a joke) she let's me off about anything I did in the past by which she was upset. Otherwise doing the dishes it was. So thank you I would rather tolerate that f*cker.

I know what a weird combination for a mother and daughter we are but I wouldn't have it any other way. My mom and I were close like that and it sort of helped knowing that I wasn't the only one upset by my dad's long term disappearance. Work really stresses both my parents. Mom handles things internally and dad handles things externally. That's why we rarely get to see him home. Even rarer for him to be home for more than two months at most.

Well it can all be blamed on my dad's boss at the previous company he worked at. The company went bankrupt leaving all the employees unemployed barely making a living. That was way long back. Before I was even born. So my parents decided to open their own firm. Hence why to fuel the business they both worked their a*ses off. Something I both respected and hated at the same time.

I didn't even realize that while I was reviewing my life story, I had accidentally pushed the door to the male's washroom. Oh great.

I muttered a quick sorry before stepping back and appreciate the fresh air without any gross smell infiltrating it. Until Shane stepped out and his guarded eyes inspected my every move. I bet he even flinched when I yawned. Great to know how much power I have over these individuals.

"First spilling water on me then following me into the washroom. What's next-"

"Skinning you alive?" I quip with a peppy grin and he balks.

"Why are all the cute girls so crazy?" Shane questions with narrowed eyes.

"I think it's something to do with your personality" I throw back with a slight smirk. The corner of his mouth twitches.

"You know when I said crazy I actually meant crazy about me. So thank you for the compliment" Shane chuckles and points a finger at my face as if saying. Take that!

"You are right. I am crazy about killing you. First I will slash a sword against your neck just enough so you won't die instantly. Then pick a random doctor to fix that mess of a neck. And when he says that you are finally out of danger I will use that very same sword and chop you into pieces. Even the doctors will say. What a mircale!" At each sentence Shane looked ready to flee realizing what a terrifying being I was.

"You should be thanking me. At least I let you die in style" I pat his arm with a wink and he shakes it off.

"What school do you go to?" He questions me completely jumping the topic of his epic death.

"What do you care? I might as well be going to Hogwarts" I sneer and he bits back a smile at that. Before he could reply back I turn on my heels and march towards the stairs to head to the second floor where there was a snooker room. Shane follows behind me but takes the lead and pushes open the door to the room with a smirk. He knows I will have to brush past him to get inside. I keep my elbows out to avoid any contact and quickly tread my way in. He snickers at the scowl etched on my face before coughing to disguise it.

A couple of guys walk past us leaving the snooker table empty and I head for it. A smug look crosses my face when I see Shane's smile falter when he sees me picking up the cue stick.

"I wouldn't suggest you to play against me. I am what they call the striker. Too good for ya" He gives me a tense smile and I knew for sure that he was bluffing. He didn't even know what the hell he was talking about. Forget playing.

"It's okay. I don't mind losing if it means playing against the 'striker'. This way I can learn a trick or two from you. Shall we start?" I raise a mock brow at him, goading him and watch beads of perspiration coating his forehead. This is something I can get used to him. For Shane Marshall, my school's one of the most horrible player, this sh*t was humiliating as f*ck. Of course because his ego was on the line.

I am sure I will appreciate the look of sore ego on him. It's not like he didn't do things to deserve it. I hate players. Hence why I absolutely detest Kade Wisnton and Shane Marshall. Winston more for some reasons.

"What's wrong? Haven't I already assured you that I am not afraid to lose?" I tilt my head and a smirk crosses my face when he can only glare at me in reply.

"Maybe some other day" He mumbles before turning on his feet and literally making a dash for the door.

I roll my eyes and place back the cue stick on the table. What a b*tch! He can't even handle a little insult and then he goes ahead and brag about himself as if he is some gift from God itself.

I sigh before I too head downstairs. But instead of going back to where my mom was sitting, I get out of the diner.

However what greeted me was definitely not on my 'least surprising' list.

Oh well.

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