ONE HUNDRED AND SEVEN

SHIMMER'S POV

In fear, I sat down on one of the very beautiful chairs. The waitress offered me some fruit juice on the house. They had offered some wine but I rejected, for I was in no mood for wine of any sort. Silently I sat there with my legs crossed, my hands clasped closely to my chest. My own heartbeat went on wildly like a thundering drum. I shifted a bit and clung to my bag as if my life depended on it.

I almost screamed out in fear at the sound of a message in my phone. Quickly I picked my phone and checked. It was Iris; she sent a smiley emoji. Quickly I responded by sending one back. I dumped my phone back on the table in front of me and took two sips of the juice. Large drops of sweat fell from my forehead, and I used the back of my palm to roughly wipe them off.

The door opened slightly, and a young man peeped. He came in and smiled briefly. Who could he be? He was not a waiter or any of the hotel staff; for he was not wearing a uniform. Panic wrapped my whole being, and I stood on my feet, ready to defend myself should the man do anything.

"Mrs de Milo," he smiled.

I did not respond. I just stared at him with a questioning eye. Who was he? What did he want? He smiled and said, "we have been waiting for more than an hour. We saw you coming in. We're in the bar down there."

"Oh…OK", I was not sure of how to respond.

"It won't be easy to slip in here without being noticed. But just wait; we'll be back now."

Before I could say anything, the man disappeared out of my sight. I heaved a heavy sigh and plunged back into my seat. I looked around the room and realised that, due to my great fear and panic, I had failed to realise the extreme beauty of it. Of course I had been in the Wetland Private Lounge several times before; but then the hotel had just been renovated and upgraded in most areas; thus the Wetland was exceptionally good. The hotel belonged to Keith and Honour Octavia; parents to Keith Junior. Looking around, and I was satisfied that my daughter Ciera was about to marry into such a well organized family. At least she had good choice. But Dylan…oh Dylan. I shook my head disapprovingly when I thought of my only son.

The phone sound came again and quickly I sent back a smiling emoji to Iris. "She's doing a great job", I said out lout to myself.

The door opened and a remote controlled wheelchair came in. Seated on the wheelchair was a very old man, with long silver grey well kept hair. The straight hair fell on his shoulders gracefully. A silver grey beard complimented his aging but neat look. He lifted his gaze to stare at me, but it was difficult to fathom what could have been on his mind; for thick dark glasses covered those eyes. I stood up and smiled a bit; for I could imagine how he must have looked as a young man. I bet he was a heartbreaker. He did not return my smile. Instead, he wheeled himself towards the centre of the room and stared at the walls. I followed his gaze to see that he must have been admiring the Mexican daisies than ran gracefully up the wall. The other side of the room was decorated with large vases with lots of different climbers which went up as singles at first; before they merged to form a dense collaboration. The decoration was really classy.

The old man looked at it all and slowly lifted his hand to scratch his head. The back of his palm looked wrinkled but still it showed that he must have had life easy. There were no signs of a difficult life; he had a fairly good skin for his age, and he was dressed immaculately. He brought down his hand to remove the spectacles; and his grey eyes pierced at me. It was as if he sought to look right into my soul, and I began to feel very uncomfortable. The eyes looked young and lively; despite his old age.

"Her royal highness; Shimmer de Milo" she called out, and that call of my name told me that there was no way such an old man could have had such a young voice. The voice sounded too good to be true, coming from him.

"Y..yes," I stammered.

My phone chimed, and I quickly sent back a smiley face to Iris.

The old man motioned for me to sit, and he said, "Do you have his photograph?"

"Pho..photograph? Whose? Umm, you mean….." I was a bit lost.

"You don't know who you're talking to?" he asked, sounding a bit amused.

I stared long and hard at him, and although I knew quite a number of people, I was sure that the face looking at me had never looked at me before. Slowly I moved my head from one side to the other, shaking it as a sign of showing that I had failed to tell who the old man was.

Wait...what! Didn't he just address me as 'her royal highness?' Who else addressed me as such? It was Israel Bassard; was it not?

"Israel Bassard!" I almost screamed out.

"Not so loud", he said.

"Oh sorry. Israel. You're really good at what you do. I thought you were some rich old man."

Israel stood up from his wheelchair and walked towards me. In panic I retreated fast and almost bumped into a huge vase behind me. He gripped my hand and helped me to stand still, and he ran a small pen-like gadget around my body, scanning me.

"I don't have any bombs," I announced.

"These are my terms. Once we're done, this phone line will be destroyed. I believe you're also using a different line for me. Is it your usual number you're using?"

"N..no. I got a new phone," I said truthfully.

"It will be destroyed once we're done. Nothing should be recorded, either audio or video. My payment is strictly in cash. No police shall be involved. If you call them on me; I will find my way out, leaving you. And I will definitely come back to take my revenge. If I fail to escape, we both die. Understood?"

"Y..yes", I felt my body shaking. For once I felt a sense of regret. What had I brought myself into? What was that?

But then, immediately an image of me in the prison cells sprung in my vision; and I shuddered to imagine myself in the cells. A breaking news headline flashed before my eyes: de MILO HOSPITAL CFO ARRESTED FOR DRUGGING AND FACILITATING FOR SEXUAL ABUSE…Oh no! I could not even bear imagining it. I shook my head in determination and told myself yes, Shimmer; this is the right thing to do!

"I give you one last time to terminate this contract. If we proceed now; there won't be turning back. Are you in?" the man spoke in a flat tone.

"I..I am in." I confirmed.

"Good. Let me have his photograph."

I fumbled in my bag, before I realised that I did not have the photograph.

"I…I don't have one. I can try and get one…", I stammered.

"Get it now. Let him send you right away." Israel spoke with authority.

"Yes," I nodded.

Phone chime. Smiley emoji. I sent back mine.

"Who do you keep chatting to?" Israel asked in an unconcerned tone.

"It's my driver, I mean my helper….my my friend, the one who drove me. She is checking if I am well."

Ignoring what I had said, Israel looked aside and gave me instructions on what to say to Logan. After his brief summary, he said in a hush voice, "make the call! Put it on speaker."

I picked my phone and dialed Logan's number. Immediately the call was connected.

"Mrs de Milo! I have given you more than enough time! I am very scared, Mrs de Milo. I'm still stuck in my brother's apartment! My brother is also scared to have me here; for his own safety! It's not fun, Mrs de Milo! The neighbours will soon realise that I am here. I hate this life of playing continuous hide and seek. I believe I would be more free in prison. I called inspector Fraser."

"You did what?" I asked in utter shock.

"I mean I am calling him tomorrow. This call is ended, Mrs de Milo. I am calling him tomorrow no matter what you say!"

"Hold on! I have something for you. A brand new name, a passport, enough money to last you for two years; comfortable life. A car. A new life in a faraway land. You can leave Lakeworld by end of day tomorrow."

There was silence. After a while Logan sighed and said, "are you serious?"

"Yes. Send me a picture of yourself. I need it for your documents. Everything will be sorted and you'll be a free man."

"What do I do if you let me down?" he asked.

"If I let you down, you can walk to Fraser and tell him everything."

"You're really sure about this, aren't you, Mrs de Milo?" he sounded happy.

"More than sure. Send me your portrait." I assured him before ending the call.

Phone chime. Logan's picture received. Phone chime. Smiley face received. I sent back a smiley face.