❇❇❇ VIGOUR ❇❇❇
"How did you know that Mr. Wolfe would be ranting like that?" Ella asked Max as they were seated under a tree, in a secluded spot on the golf course.
"I was doing my daily inspection of each floor when I heard deafening yelling emanate from that room. It didn't take a visual picture to know who it was, I could spot that voice anywhere." He replied, Ella wished that she had never heard it.
"Do you still have something against Mr. Wolfe?" She cautiously asked, not trying to offend Max.
"Of course, I've never felt like a bigger loser before that day in the parking lot. He only has his money, that's why people are afraid of him. My family has money too, just you wait, Ella. Soon I'll own this building and he'll wish he'd never yelled at me." Max rued.
Something was not right. Ella began feeling perturbed by his tone of voice and the way he'd stare into the unknown as he spoke. It seemed as if he had embedded this plan into his head for a while now. She decided to remain still, not knowing where the conversation would lead to next.
"You must be really special to Victor if he has never snapped on you before, Ella. You tell me he offered you a scholarship to his school, even though you did not qualify for one? I hope you're able to put one and one together?" Max stated, still staring into space.
"What do you mean?" She asked, getting more and more apprehensive of Max.
"He likes you, this man has a sick obsession with you. If the media gets wind of this-" Max sadistically retorts.
"Mr. Wolfe has never done anything to make me feel uncomfortable or ill at ease." Ella defiantly replies.
"Is he paying you to say those things? You're an orphan, Ella. What orphan doesn't need money?" He atrociously asks.
"Orphans with self-respect and decorum. Now, you can believe anything you want in that sick, little brain of yours, but don't ever think of dragging my image, as well as Mr. Wolfe's, down to the levels in which you currently dwell." Ella boldly defends as she gets up.
Max gets up in fury, clearly affronted by Ella's daring words and pins her to the tree, his face centimetres from the neck he's tightly clasping. Ella gasps for air and tries to wriggle from his vile grip, he hastily pulls out a pocket knife and holds it to her cheek- she fearfully ceases struggling.
"Now, princess, repeat those words again. " He maniacally instructs and sets the knife tighter on to her skin. "You're so beautiful, it's a pity you had to side with Wolfe." He ends off, and slowly sliding the knife onto her supple cheek. She lets out an agonising yelp as a small stream of scarlet blood trickles down the side of her face.
Max comes closer in a vile attempt to kiss her, but she viciously plants her knee into his nether-regions, he lets out a painful groan as she dashes off the golf course.
***
Mr. Wolfe cannot know about this. She thinks as she cleans her wound under a running faucet of the sink in one of the country club's upscale restroom.
Once she is satisfied, she gives her flushed face a solid browse. She had no idea how to conceal the light scar. It was then when three women entered the restroom, they looked about Mr. Wolfe's age. They inspected Ella thoroughly, eyeing her up and down.
"Are those C-converse sneakers?" The brunette exasperatedly asks in repulsion.
"Yes, Agatha, I think they are." The big-toothed, brunette overdramatically confirms.
"Oh my god, it's a bourgeois!" The brunette, now known as Agatha, screeches.
"Listen, bourgeois, would you like us to find a soup kitchen for you?" The toothy brunette slowly asks, Ella thought she was kidding, but she soon changed her mind when the Mrs. Toothy whipped out her phone in order to search up locations of nearby soup kitchens.
"Come on, guys, the bourgeois is clearly lost. They are like cats, if they found their way in, they can find their way out. Now let's talk about something more important- like Victor who'll be accompanying me to the Spring Gardenia Ball." The stunning red-headed woman says, compared to the other two- she is clearly the most beautiful, but equally vicious- perhaps even a bit more.
Ella instantaneously becomes amusingly interested in their conversation at the mention of Mr. Wolfe's name. She walks into one of the stalls and begins to eavesdrop.
"Come on, Jenessa, he hasn't even asked you yet." One of the women state, Ella assumed it was Agatha.
"He doesn't need to, everyone expects us to arrive together. Knowing Victor, he'd probably like the good publicity." Jenessa rejoinders. Ella's heart drops at the mention of good publicity.
"Did you forget what he did to you, 'Nessa? He left you naked and unsatisfied on your birthday!" Mrs. Toothy says, causing Ella to let out a short, uncontrollable giggle. The restroom is quiet and Ella clasps her mouth.
"Hey, bourgeois, refrain from partaking in conversing with the upper-class, you would never be able to be pretty or rich enough to snag a man as attractive and successful as Victor Wolfe." She coos in a mock-sweet tone, from outside the bathroom stall door.
Ella critically could not stand these pretentious tarts any longer. She exits the stall and stares Jenessa down.
"Listen, cupcake, this bourgeois is possibly smarter than you and your lackeys all combined and wrapped in pretty diamond-studded bow. I've allowed myself to be patronized by the likes of you for longer than I can keep my middle-class mouth shut. I'd rather be a middle-class nobody, than a pompous, upper-class whore." Ella retorts, leaving three enraged faces behind as she walks out the door.
In another bid of adventurousness, she walks into the stall again.
"Another thing, is this the Victor you're talking about?" She asks with a smirk and holds up Mr. Wolfe's platinum card. She allows their stunned faces to take a good, long look before she triumphantly walks off.
What did I just do! She unnervingly thinks, feeling a bit frightened by her undiscovered catty side. She does not wallow in regret for too long as she hears her phone vibrate. She sees a message from Mr. Wolfe.
Tiring meeting is over, meet me in the lobby. I hope you didn't get into too much trouble while I was away.
She uncomfortably giggles, she knows exactly how much trouble she's in for telling a bunch of highly affluent women off.
Me? Trouble? Never.
She types and adds an angel emoticon for good measure, which, to her, in hindsight seemed a lot suspicious.
***
She walks down to the foyer and spots Mr. Wolfe conversing with some suit-clad men. She approaches him, making sure to cover her scar with her hair.
"Ella, lovely to finally see you after so long. Gentlemen, this is Ella Avery- possibly the smartest young woman I know." Mr. Wolfe proudly states, causing her to giggle.
"It's a pleasure to meet you all." She confidently replies and shakes their hands, Mr. Wolfe watches and stares at her with adoration.
"She's the cutest thing ever, Victor." The tall, bushy-browed man says, Ella blushes and conceals her face behind Mr. Wolfe.
"I know, Lukas. I-"Mr. Wolfe says before being cut off by wretched yelling.
"That's her! She's the girl that stole Victor Wolfe's platinum card! Watch out, Victor, there's a thief behind you!" The banshee-esque voice of Jenessa yelled, accompanied by two security guards.
"What's going on here, Jenessa?" Mr. Wolfe sternly asks once a pacing Jenessa had arrived.
"That thieving fiend has your platinum card, Vic. Check her." She instructs and the security guards step forward towards a timorous Ella. Mr. Wolfe viciously shoves them away.
"Don't you ever lay your filthy paws on her, she did not steal the card, because I gave it to her." Mr. Wolfe defends, putting his arm over Ella's shoulder and protectively holding her close. Jenessa stares in shock and tries a more personal approach.
"She's not as innocent as she looks, Vic. She called me a pompous, upper-class whore." Jenessa whines. Her statement caused Mr. Wolfe's entourage, including Mr. Wolfe, to let out a roar of stifled laughter.
"Knowing you, Jenessa, you probably asked for it." Mr. Wolfe commented with a smile. He leans down to Ella's level.
"Let's go, sweetheart." He instructs and Ella trails behind.
Ella and Mr. Wolfe walk out the massive doors, the wind has picked up, causing Ella's hair to abruptly move from her face. Mr. Wolfe catches a glance at her and notices the cut on her cheek, he stops dead in his tracks.
"Ella, what's that?" He asks and grits his jaw.
"What's what, sir?" She asks with a false smile, accompanied by uncomfortable laughter. He stops in front of her and cups her face, he slowly raises it and tilts it to the side. He tenderly brushes the fresh wound with his thumb, causing her to slightly flinch.
"You didn't have that mark when we first entered here, what happened?" He sternly asked, still gently holding her head upwards. Her brown eyes make contact with his piercing blue ones.
"I-I um, well, sir, you see-" She stumbles.
"Angel, I want you to tell Mr. Wolfe who did this to you." He soothingly says.
"P-promise you won't scold him, sir?" She softly asks.
"I promise, Sweetheart. Now, who did it and how?" He peacefully asks.
"Maximillion Westwood, he used a knife, but luckily-" She was about to continue, but Mr. Wolfe was already in the process of dashing back into the building, with a furious aura. Ella had to jog to catch up with him.
"Sir, you promised not to scold him." Ella said as she tried to syncopate their pace.
"I promised not to scold him, you didn't say anything about killing him, Ella." Mr. Wolfe answers with rage in his voice. They make it into an elevator. "I saw him last on the fifth floor, maybe he is still there." Mr. Wolfe says, completely enraged.
"Please, sir, don't ." Ella pleads as the doors open, but her pleas fall on deaf ears. Mr. Wolfe scours the floor until he sees Max walking down the corridor. He lunges towards him grabs him by the collar, shoving his body against the window.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't let you plummet five floors down." Mr. Wolfe icily growled.
"You'll get sent to prison." Max replies, trying to hide his fear.
"Ella, darling, close your ears." Mr. Wolfe gently orders, she does as he asks. He turns his gaze back to Max, "I said, give me a good fucking reason!" Mr. Wolfe yells, Ella shuts her eyes and closes her ears as tight as she can.
"Victor, let my nephew go!" Brandon yells, but Mr. Wolfe has already inflicted his first punch on Max's jaw. Brandon hastily runs over to the brawl and pulls Mr. Wolfe off Max.
"Uncle, this lunatic ran up to me and threatened to throw me out of the window! Look, he even punched me!" Max yelled, chafing his bruised jaw.
"What the hell, Victor!" Brandon yells.
"Your precious nephew held a knife to Ella's cheek! Don't you dare fucking take his side on this one!" Mr. Wolfe aggressively bellows. Brandon stares at Max in shock.
"Maximillion, is this true?" He asks his nephew.
"No, he has no proof, uncle! He's making us turn on each other." Max defiantly retorts.
"No fucking proof, huh? Is this proof enough?" Mr. Wolfe derisively asks as he walks up to Ella and gently pushes the hair out of her face, revealing the scar on her cheek. Brandon closely inspects it.
"Max, why did you do this?" Brandon slowly asks, trying hard to control his rage. Max sees the fury in his uncle's eyes and attempts a suitable response.
"She's lying, uncle! She's in cahoots with Wolfe." Max snaps.
"I don't understand, Max! What is your problem with Victor? You've hated him ever since you were twelve, when you made up that ridiculous story of him knocking you over with his car. And to make matters worse, you stuck to your story even though we had video proof that you simply fell off your skateboard from skating too fast!" Brandon yells, Max gives Ella a quick glance, clearly furious that she had to find out this way.
"It's because of Margo! This bastard slept with her and never called, she was heartbroken and I wanted him to pay!" Max finally says after a moment of silence.
"Your older sister was as common as a nightwalker, I would never sleep with her, whatever story she spun, they're lies." Mr. Wolfe icily replied.
Ella felt a tad awkward, she had never heard Mr. Wolfe talk about his sexual conquests before- or, apparent conquests in this case. She also could not believe how far Max would go to sink Mr. Wolfe.
"Brandon, sort out that psychotic nephew of yours or I'll make sure this country club goes down in flames." Mr. Wolfe says to Brandon. Mr. Wolfe then walks up to Max and grabs his collar.
"As for you, if you lay one fucking finger on my Ella again, I'll rip the lower half of your jaw off and make you dig your own fucking grave with it." He says to Max through gritted teeth and let's go of his collar.
"Come on, Ella. We're never returning her again." Mr. Wolfe says and Ella, once again, follows behind.
***
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