Chapter 689: The monster under the bed

Ethan raised his hand, about to knock on his door when it suddenly opened. The man he came to visit stood on the other side with a smile on his lips, welcoming.

“Ethan, glad you could make it to my humble home.” His eyes darted at the man who opened the large door wide for him to enter.

He signaled for his driver and one of his bodyguards, who came with him, to stay in the car. He did not need protection from his son as far as he was concerned.

Although the other man before him still needed to learn about this dark secret. His eyes scanned the room ahead, wondering why he had no one protecting him.

Two securities guarded his gate, but he expected at the least five or ten muscled men armed with heavy weapons roaming his massive lawn.

But to his surprise, he had yet to see his mercenaries. He did assume that his son would take on his father’s legacy, at least the man he had known as his father when he died.

“I did ask for this private meeting. It will be rude of me if I will not show up.” Ethan answered him, still observing the kind of life his son had been living.

.....

His feet stopped in the hallway, seeing a particular painting that reminded him of someone. He could feel that his companion also stopped and stood at his back as he examined the artwork.

Until now, he recognized her work, looking at her initial at the bottom of the frame. “Could I touch it?”

“Sure.” A pensive voice responded to him, but he understood why.

“Thanks.” His voice hinted at a smile, recalling a past he had almost forgotten. It was what it felt like growing old. He was becoming emotional.

His hand extended upward, allowing his fingers to gradually lower to the paint surface. He had watched his friend paint something similar to this for years, loving how each line created a picture but depicted a feeling.

He dragged his fingers down, feeling the roughness in the tender spot at the tip of his fingers at the way her stroke created a masterpiece.

“Isn’t she magnificent?” The voice behind him whispered, sighing a heavy breath afterward. It would seem just like him. This young man remembered her so memorably as well.

“She certainly is. I have not seen this work before.” He knew most of her work. He watched them form and become a work of art.

However, after they had separated ways, he never saw any of her work again, except for one. The one that he had kept in his office. It was a keepsake of their friendship, the three of them. And also a constant reminder that he had a son and the mistake he committed against them.

“She did that a year before she died. She rarely painted anymore, and she was happy when she finished that.” Gerald told him, but his voice seemed to have questions on them as if something bothered him.

“I am glad that she did what she loved until the end.” Remembering how much she was passionate about her work. At first, she tried and tried, but nobody would like to buy her paintings. Then, when she fell in love with Joaquin, things changed.

Her hands worked like magic, and one at a time, she created paintings that captured her love and passion. It was not just colors and figures. It had meaning.

He did not understand it at that time, the power of love. When he insisted he wanted what they had, his mind and heart had no idea what they were doing.

Having Laura in his life now gave him a full grasp of what love should be, but it was too late when he had created a rift between all of them.

“Shall we proceed inside?” Gerald led the way as he backed out of the portrait and walked beside him.

He scanned the place for more things he could discover about his son. Anything that would indicate and show him what kind of personality he had besides the things he had already read in the report.

Sometimes, just looking at the sort of environment he had created around him would be enough to give him a picture of his life.

So far, there was nothing out of the ordinary that he had seen. It was just the typical house of a bachelor like him. However, his house and decoration indicated the success he had achieved in his life.

“I thought you would like to go to the garden. I set up a little snack for us.” Gerald informed him, ushering him to the other side of the grand house.

It was not as big as his, but it was large enough for someone like him without a family. Probably living alone in this house was lonesome, remembering his situation in his home with Laura.

“That would be perfect,” Ethan replied to his gracious host as they sat on the patio overlooking his massive pool and luscious garden.

As soon as they were seated, the door at the back opened, and uniformed personnel came nearer to them, serving some snacks he had promised.

“I hope that the fresh air is not too chilly for you,” Gerald asked as he crossed his legs and laid back on his seat, breathing the cold air around them.

He could also feel the biting breeze, but it was not enough to make him uncomfortable as he also took a large gulp of air into his lungs. “Not at all.” He responded, feeling the winter was coming.

As they sipped on their hot tea, Gerald tried to observe him, then watched him from the peripheral of his eyes. His host did not rush him to spill his beans, but he could see his curiosity and anxiousness to know his intent.

But his son did not need to wait long as he took one more sip of his tea before setting his cup down on the table to look at him. Up to this moment, his mind still wondered what stories his son heard from his mother or father about him.

He would assume that it was not quite a fairy tale based on his actions. Maybe it was more like he was the monster under the bed.

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