Chapter 3

Playing: 🎶Summertime by Benjackson Troy🎶

-The Bestfriend-

Xander's POV

After I'm done gathering my thoughts, I unlock the door of the black Ferrari and climb in, starting the ignition and swerving in the driveway, only one destination in mind, my mansion.

Eyes on the freeway, I don't note how dirty I appear until I need to wipe a hint of moisture from my forehead as a result of the summer sun shining bright above the roof of the vehicle.

This little action causes me to sight an ugly stain on the long-sleeved blue shirt I'm donning, why I thought wearing such an attire the previous night is beyond me.

Shifting my gaze briefly to the clothing in question, I notice a light patch close to the buttons, indicating a sign of a wine spill. Before I know it, a blush spreads on my cheek as I realize I've been walking around in such a messed-up shirt which isn't fitting for my status.

A flash of color catches my intuition through the left window, on impulse, I slow down and rewind the glass, my orbs locking on the rearview mirror to determine the source.

My breathe catches for a moment as I see an elegant lady walking in the same direction I'm heading. A yellow tank top tucked into a shiny pink leather trouser, her dress combination too much for the eye as it clashes with the blazing sun, her ash umbrella the only mild shade in sight as it shields her from the heat.

The unmatching hues she's wearing are supposed to push me off hence I'm not one to be attracted to such appearances rather I'm shocked into oblivion as she catwalks along the concrete in ankle blue boots.

I have a sudden urge to pause until she reaches my car, somewhat I don't do that as a certain angry female with brown eyes invades my thinking. Shaking my head to clear whatever that was, I step on the accelerator as the pale-skinned lady who caught my eye happens to almost attain my position in her long strides.

Driving as if my pants are on fire I arrive at the gate of the intimidating edifice called my home, though not as intimidating as my other houses scattered across the country or other parts of the world but would be to someone who isn't used to such luxury.

Till this moment I can't understand the reason behind the need I had a year ago to purchase such a house in a small town, I guess it's because this place lacks media exposure, a haven for me to come and unwind hence it's in this small community I have that secret warehouse in the middle of the woods where I meet with Azazel without my pictures being splattered on the internet.

I can just imagine the captions, 'Xander Miles, caught on camera strolling into the woods in a native town. Looks like our music idol loves to be one with nature at such an odd hour'

Laughing at that, I horn at the 10ft black rail gate, the top lined with electric wires that connect to those on the red-bricked fence to keep unwanted visitors away.

A figure dashes in my view as I wait at the entrance, soon after the gate opens, wide enough to allow me through and that's what I do, propelling the car along the interlocked flooring into the massive compound that must have taken up to 4plots of land.

Turning off the engine, I have a brief moment of reckoning as I ponder if I made the right decision to go make a new deal with Azazel thus if I hadn't I wouldn't be having this nagging fear at the back of my mind as the days go by. It's barely more than 24 hours, and I'm on the verge of losing my cool.

That thought disappears as fast as it came as a shudder runs down my spine, the words of the preacher that moment I was coming home after a charity show in the next town resounding in my thoughts as I can vividly picture his descriptions of hell.

A sharp knock on the window jeers me out of my head and I turn my vision to it, spotting Ryan one of my trusted bodyguards outside. Releasing a sigh I clamp my lids for a moment to rationalize my emotions before unlocking the car for him to open the door.

I step out, grinning at him as he offers me a slight nod in acknowledgment.

"Welcome boss," he says reaching out a hand to grab whatever is in my hold.

"There's no briefcase or anything for you to carry Ryan, only me," I smirk flexing my arms and making way for him to close the door as I offer him the remote which he uses to lock the automobile. "Or do you want to carry me instead?"

"I'll gladly do that if you want sir," he blurts in a serious manner though I catch his lips twitch in amusement.

"It's okay bro," I laugh tapping his shoulders as I pass him. "I wouldn't want you to waste your strength when you can use it for more pleasurable things like sex with that bimbo you sneaked in last night."

"Si--r I didn- I did not__" I don't turn back as I know his cheeks must have turned red in embarrassment.

"Don't worry about it dude," I snort, seeing the other guys scattered around the premises in their various posts try hard to hold in their laugh, emphasis on 'try' but fail as I hear chuckles. "Just know I see everything."

With that said, I cross the remaining meters to the two-story milk-painted building, its entrance portraying two brown pillars, each floor demarcated by a balcony.

The sun beating down on my head causes sweat to generate in the dark curls as I am no longer in the air-conditioned Ferrari. The long ass glass windows help to allow natural light into the interior and reflect it to the unsuspecting eye.

Only two cars are present in the garage aside from the Ferrari and they comprise of a smoking red Bugatti and a sleek blue Mercedes-Benz 2020 model, yeah I drip riches.

Recognizing I've been standing in front of the house for some seconds, I move forward, the scent of the different varieties of flowers planted at the foot of the mansion reaching my nostrils.

My sneaker-clad feet meet the marble-tiled terrace and I smile at John the dark-skinned butler from Nothern Nigeria who winks at me in return as he pushes the glass door to let me through.

The door screeches behind me and I crouch to untie my shoes and pick them up in my left hand, regretting the brief second I caught a whiff of the disgusting smell emanating from it. I still marvel at how we humans can produce such appalling smells from different aspects of our bodies.

Relief washes over me as I inhale a sweet aroma of pancakes on my way to the staircase which causes me to pause, drop my shoes in a corner and proceed to the kitchen where the scent is coming from.

Exiting the hallway, I proceed into the vast dining room with a lengthy white table that can contain food for a hundred people with fifty gold-rimmed chairs on each side which I use most times to host a meeting with my men after I arrive here and before we depart.

A humming sound comes from the ajar door leading to the kitchen and I snicker knowing who it is. I stride into the room and see my best friend and manager shaking his nonexistent booty as he dishes out the food on a plate.

"What are you doing Charles?" I ask, an eyebrow raised as he turns at the sound of my voice.

"I knew you would be home by now," he grins, leaning his bulky frame on the counter, his bare bronzed arms folded across his apron-clad chest. "And what does it look like I'm doing dumbass."

"Only women are allowed to hum while cooking," I scoff, eying the dumbfounded expression on his face that constitutes a sharp jaw, green eyes, high cheekbones, his ears pierced all round with silver earrings in them, thick blonde brows the same shade as his hair.

"Besides, you look ridiculous," I tease, seeing as he is dressed in only a pair of khaki shorts and the pink apron.

"Go on, keep insulting me and you won't have something to eat before we leave in a few hours," he warns, returning his attention to the chore, retrieving an extra plate from the rack. "Maybe I'll give this to Ryan."

"You wouldn't dare," I frown, my stomach growling in hunger, causing him to smile challengingly in my direction, such that I succumb to an apology. "I'm sorry."

"Now that's more like it," he ridicules, shaking his head and piling the second plate with whatever is left of the pancakes he prepared, gesturing for me to take it after he's done.

"Thank you," I nod appreciatively, picking up the plate and following behind him to the dining area. His hand containing a tray with two glasses of what comes across as orange juice and his own plate.

"You are welcome," he responds, tongue in cheek and I stop myself from rolling my eyes at his goofiness. It's a wonder how someone who acts playfully can be a responsible and capable manager to a world-renown artist.

"So what time do we get out of here, they are getting the helicopter set as I speak," he informs, sitting and pointing above with his fork to indicate the location of the machine which is on the roof.

"We won't be leaving," I say, settling down, only to see him pause his actions, eyes gaping at me. "At least not yet."

"Why?" He implores, regaining control of his bones as he begins scooping pancakes to his awaiting lips.

"I just spotted an amazing club during my night out, and the owner is willing to sell," I communicate, shrugging as I start to eat.

"You are serious on this investing plan eh?" He interrogates, his demeanor shifting to that of a manager and not a friend anymore.

"Yeah," I affirm, not allowing room for argument. "My mind is set and we have agreed on a price. That reminds me, I'll need to tell Blake to get in touch with him."

"Okay then," he concurs, giving me an inquisitive look as he returns to the role of a best friend, not a moment later a smile spreads on his lips. "It's also about a girl isn't it?"

"Don't push it," I scowl and this makes his grin more prominent if that's possible. "You know I'm too busy for romance."

"If you say so," he cackles lifting his arms in surrender, and rises, snatching the ceramic from the table and providing me a wink as he retreats. "I'll let it slide, just this once."

My gaze follows his disappearing form and I can't help but think how close he is to the truth as I remember the lady in pink, too bad I didn't catch much of her facial features.

Done with the meal, I abandon the plate in its position and decide on having a shower, almost out of the dining room the statement of that female club employee returns to my mind and I can't help but chuckle at her audacity.

"Just wait and see feisty one, we are going to have more fights in the future," I murmur to no one in particular, a cocky tilt to my lips as I yank my shoes from the floor to ascend the stairs.

Freshy❤️