The man walks closer to Weston. “I have met a lot of guys like you who prove stubborn at first but the moment I whip them the first time, they're screaming their mom's name. On the second whip, they're peeing in their pants. On the third whip, they faint. On the fourth, they're back to consciousness. On the fifth, they're begging me, apologizing to me as if I am the one they wrong. So this whip—” the man shakes the whip in Weston's face. “—This whip is a miracle worker. I'm guessing, with your stubbornness, you're going to get more than five of these. I haven't gotten past five whips before but it doesn't hurt to experiment, huh? I'm whipping you eight times.”Weston walks closer to the man having had enough of the chatter. The man laughs. “What are you doing—” a loud groan fills the air. Weston gives the man one more punch in his big stomach near the kidney area. The man falls backward, crashing on the ground like an eighty kilogram bag of ric

He looks at her sharply. She's not some mind reader, right? “I mean, you had the tattoo on your chest,” Lorette says. “I was kind of curious about who she is.” “She's my daughter,” Weston says. “Your…” Lorette gasps. As she is about to talk again, she hiccups. “Drink some water,” Weston tells her. She drinks the rest of the water in the bottle but still, the hiccups don't go away. Weston pats her slowly in the back. “Calm down.” “Wait.” Lorette moves away from his reach. “You're not kidding…right?” “Do I have any reason to joke about this?” “You didn't have to say something as drastic as…” she stops halfway seeing the seriousness on Weston's face. “I'm sorry. I'm just…I'm sorry.” An awkward silence follows. “So…” Lorette says trying as much as possible to get herself out of the mess she created. “So, Hannah is your daughter?” Damn! What's she saying? “Yes,” Weston

Something clicks in Weston's head. This man…wasn't this the shitty man that was talking nonsense the other day while they were coming from Mateo's? Weston returns the man's smile. Some people don't learn lessons, do they? “Where is Santiago?” The man chuckles. “Guys, deal with him.” Immediately, some hands pull Weston inside the room. The door closes firmly behind him. Weston glances around the room for sight of Santiago. He can't find him. He looks back at the men in front of him. A smile escapes his lips. Really, he can't figure out why he's thinking of the game he just finished playing. All these men…. like six of them, funnily, they look very similar to the animation enemies he dealt with in the game. Weston doesn't wait for them to make the first move. He grabs one of the men and sends a hard punch in the man's face. He can't be sure but to the best of his knowledge, it will take a very experienced doctor to fix the gu

For a few seconds, Ivy stares at Lorette like she (Ivy) has suddenly electrocuted. “Weston didn't tell me a lot about you, just the part that you had a child for him. The rest I figured it out myself,” Lorette says and she means every word of it. Last night, she got everything she needed to fit in the puzzle of Weston's child and ex girlfriend. “I tried to make an effort for Weston to look for you so you both can come to an agreement about how he's going to take full parentage over Hannah but I'm starting to regret it now.” “Well,” Ivy says, “you'd better regret it. I'm five months pregnant with Weston and that's what I came to tell him.” Now, it's Lorette's turn to be shocked. “Even myself I'm shocked. I went to the doctor just yesterday and confirmed it. I guess I've been too busy in the past few months to take notice of it.” She goes back to the sofa and sits down. “I'mma give you advice, Miss…” Ivy looks at Lorette. “If you're wise, you'll apply the advice. Don't p

He covers his nose and quickly walks to the sitting room to see the source of the smell. The damn smell is not from the sitting room. It's from the damn kitchen where Santiago is supposed to be making the omelette. Weston slowly enters the kitchen. The first thing that catches his sight is the odd black stuff inside the ocean of oil in the frying pan. He rushes it and quickly turns off the stove. The omelette is so damn burnt that Weston can swear he's never seen any food as burnt as this all his life. “Shit,” he mutters. He glances around the kitchen to see Santiago leaning on the wall and staring at the phone like he just got rejected from a crush of fifty years. Weston shakes his head slowly. He opens the windows in the kitchen. He goes to the sitting room to open the window. The burnt smell is strong there and right on one of the sofas is Lorette clutching a pillow to her chest, her eyes fixed on the plasma TV. “Didn't you smell it too?” He asks but she doesn't seem to he