The Billionaire's Secret Identity

Chapter Four

CHAPTER FOUR

Tony blinked and he was outside. He couldn't tell how much he had been pushed or to the extent of the dragging.

He just felt the air around him and the thankfulness in his heart that those bulldogs had not ripped his bones from his flesh.

He had no time to respond. The only time to respond was his struggle to kick the dogs away and still look cool in the eyes of the laughing guests.

He couldn't tell if he succeeded in both. But at least, he could speak for one part.

A security guard mounted guard outside the door, eyes trained just like his dog's on him.

What was the humiliation for? He breathed in and out, wondering if the grating in his chest was anger or pain.

He took out the card from his pocket and looked at it again, scanning for other details.

The name was boldly written “Michael Leo. CEO”

It was now time for him to wonder if him already placing himself as the CEO wasn't the actual root of this problem.

If he had left the CEO position vacant, it would have been easier for him to fit into that role at once.

But now, with it being occupied, even a cockroach wouldn't believe his tale when it is really the truth.

Who could this guy be that everyone kept in such high esteem? That no one wanted to mess with?

He dialled the number. It rang but no one picked it up. He tried again, but it went into voicemail.

He scoffed. Was this the complimentary card he had wanted to give out? He shook his head weakly.

No wonder he had been laughed at. Was this how uptight the guy was? Not letting anybody get close to him?

He let out a deep exhale, letting his eyes roll back for correction.

This guy was just being so overprotective of himself. Or was it pride? His eyebrows flew together.

He scanned his brain to think of the benefits of the behavior. But found none supportive.

He breathed out again, letting the troubles of the day weigh him down a little.

Was this the way he had dreamed of his company to be like? And to think that Michael isn't even the fucking CEO

Damnit, he cursed, searching for a cigarette in his pocket. He found the pack he had hungrily placed in his pocket and pulled it out.

Before he could bring out a stick, the security guard was already by his side.

“No Cigarettes,” the guard spoke under his teeth, voice echoing the sophisticated lady's command.

“And no hovering,” he added. 

And Tony had to wonder if he had suddenly changed from being a human to becoming a hovercraft or was it a drone, now?

He couldn't tell. Without too much shame—without letting it get too much to him, he moved away, eyes determined and fierce.

He could weather the storm, couldn't he?

“Away!” The guy shooed him angrily, till he had to crossover to the other end of the road for peace to reign.

Was this how things were run? Was this the great humiliation he had to face after ten years of service to his master?

Was this the handover he had suffered to get after the work? He shook his head and blew air out of his mouth.

He brought out his phone to contact his master but stopped.

It was against the rules. He was not to contact the master unless contacted first. And to make the whole idea more ridiculous, he had no contact with the boss. 

The highest or the closest he could get to making contact was by going up to the mountains.

His nose itched. The mountain and its dew? With the thought itself, he was certain he would throw up.

He took in a deep breath for calm and to set pace for retrospect. 

He chose the best side of the road, the side without traffic. It was in itself a walkway. 

He began the walk, hands in pocket, and shoulders slouched in deep thoughts

No, he won't feel sad about his predicament. He won't let such triviality get to him. He had weathered greater and harder tasks.

What was a brief humiliation in comparison to what he had had to pass through in the mountain?

He still had a chance to right the wrong; to correct the impression. So what was he fretting for?

The heck! He was sure that if he met with Michael, if he saw him, he would recognize and give him the respect due.

But his shoulders sagged immediately. He hadn't been taught about respect in that way.

It was attracted not commanded. In his world of the past ten years he had never seen nor heard Mr. Famous raise his voice.

Everyone had just respected him. That was the way they were taught to rule in their place of duty; their private owned company.

And here he was, before even beginning, going back on what had been taught?

The abrupt car horn behind made his hands fly from his pockets as he jumped.

“Watch where you're going, thug,” a lady spoke from her green sports car, her face the perfect movie-star-oval-shape.  

Her car complimented the smoothness of the skin but contrasted the sneer.

She hissed and began to zoom off. Tony too, went back to business.

“Wait!” She shouted and his hands flew out of his pockets again.

She pulled her already moving car to a halt.

And then like a crazed drug addict, reversed her car to where he was.

“You're he, aren't you?” She cracked a cunny smile, taking him with a sharp scrutiny. “Aren't you the CEO of Toneo Company?” She gave a short laugh, sounding more like cough but enough for him to decipher which it was.

“Excuse me, do I—”

“Of course you do, Mr. CEO,” she snorted, letting her shoulders enjoy the spreading giggle.

“There’s your company's building. Why aren't you there?” She asked with amusement glistening like tears in her eyes.