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1.73% The Royal Arrangement / Chapter 6: Chapter 6

Kapitel 6: Chapter 6

A squeaking noise caught her attention as she drank her morning coffee while gazing at the noisy street outside her apartment building. It seemed it was a busy morning for everyone except her.

"Really? Is that the best that you could find?" Luisa watched the mouse run out of the small hole, grabbing the piece of pizza she must have dropped the other day on the floor.

Even the mouse was busier than her. But here she was, drowning in her misery, trying to find something she could do to earn some money. She had asked her friends if they knew of any job openings, but so far, she did not like her options.

She wished she could find something that would pique her interest. But so far, most of what was available was boring and underpaid.

"Here." She called the attention of her daily companion. "You must be hungry." Dropping another piece of bread into the corner of her mini kitchen, which was just adjacent to her tiny living room.

Her eyes continued watching the mouse, busy salvaging her food. At least that mouse was working its tail to get some living while her remaining savings were dwindling fast down the drain.

Soon, she would not have enough to pay her bills. Her landlord was kind, but she could not abuse his generosity. She had to pay him what she owed.

"I hope you at least know who your father is, not like me." She spoke to the mouse, who disappeared back into the hole where it came from earlier.

She held the card that the man had given to her last night. It was a fancy card that looked expensive. At least he did not put Prince in his name. It was just his name and some crest or something and a number.

Liam Ashthorne

She still could not believe a man like him would want to talk to her. She thought last night was just some weird dream, but when she woke up this morning. She found the card that proved it did happen.

"Who are you, Prince Liam Ashthorne?" Tapping the card on her palm. "And what does this mystery man know about me?" Luisa mumbled as she stared again at his name. Could it be about the identity of her father?

But then again, why should she trust him?

She placed the card upside down on the table, unable to decide whether she should believe what the stranger said or should ignore it altogether.

But what if he did know who he was, her father?

What if he was telling the truth?

So many questions plagued her mind as she debated her current situation. However, it was what she had been searching for since learning that her father was still alive and not buried in some cemetery far away.

Her mother lied to her, and her uncle aided her. They said they had a reason, but they could not tell her. Was that fair? She was old enough to drink and drive. Undoubtedly she could handle the truth if only her mother would trust her.

"Luis open up. I know you are in there." A loud voice and a hard knock on her door, which her entire neighborhood must have heard, suddenly made her jump out of her seat.

Not that her unexpected guest frightened her. More like frustrating her, knowing who was waiting for her outside. Eventually, she walked towards the door and opened it wide.

"Speaking of the devil. I was thinking about you just a minute ago." Showing him that she was still mad at him.

"Good morning to you too, Missy. I can say the same with you." Her morning guest greeted her as he stood by the door, staring at her.

She tiptoed on her tiny toes and kissed him on the cheeks. "You are late today, Uncle Evan. I expected you much earlier, knocking at my door by the crack of dawn." She mockingly greeted him before walking to her table to finish her coffee.

"Well, unlike you, I have a business to run and meetings to attend this morning," Evan nonchalantly answered as he followed her inside. Instead of sitting beside her, he only ruffled her hair, messing up her bangs, before moving along her kitchen.

He started opening cupboards, probably checking her apartment, until he found a clean cup. Then, he poured himself a cup of coffee before leaning against the small counter.

She never realized how small her living quarters were until her uncle stood before her. He almost occupied a large portion of the tiny space.

Indeed his uncle was a big guy, or her apartment was just a shoebox.

"Ok. Let us hear it. How did you find me?" Luisa could not help her curiosity.

She wondered if the Prince was somehow in communication with her uncle. It was such a big coincidence that he was looking for her yesterday. Now, her uncle was standing in her apartment, drinking coffee.

"I have always known where you are." Her uncle answered, finally putting the cup on the counter to stare at her. "I know you had lived with your friends for a couple of days before transferring to this apartment."

"I would have picked you up earlier because I don't think this rat-infested place was suitable to live in, but your mother thinks you needed your space." Her uncle knocked on the wooden panels of the cabinets, with its cover almost unhinged, to make his point.

But before she could interrupt him, he held her fingers at her to stop her. "I also knew you were working for that fancy restaurant because I told the manager to hire you."

"You what?" She shouted in disbelief. "You..." But she was not able to finish when he again cut her off.

"Let me finish. You needed a job. With your lack of credentials and experience, no one would hire you. I only gave you a break. The rest was all you." Evan finished, taking his coffee and draining the last drops before dumping the cup on the dirty sink.

She was initially angry upon learning that his uncle had meddled with her life, but then again, how could she be mad when she agreed he was right?

Who would want to give her a job? He only gave her a fighting chance, but the rest was up to her, and she blew it.

Now, what? It seemed like finding another job without the help of her uncle would be difficult. Was she ready to give up on her quest to find herself, her dream, and her father?

Was it time to go back home with him? Or should she look for an alternative, staring at the card lying flat on the table?


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