CHAPTER 45
Ryan’s POV
John continues to horn continuously until I become frustrated and tell him to stop. I open the car door to get out, looking around with arms akimbo.
Aren’t they home?
I take long strides to the gate. It isn’t looking like it is locked from behind.
As I push it to know if my assumptions are right, the small gate opens and I turn to John who shakes his head.
Apparently, they no longer have guards around the house and even a gateman. They should have at least locked the gate from behind.
I signal to him to wait for me outside as I open the gate and enter. Everywhere is messy. The flowers are withering gradually, probably because the gardener has been sacked too. The courtyard is in a pitiful state and I wonder if this is part of Valerie’s concern for her parents.
I ignore the rest of the surroundings as I make my way to the front door with my hands in my pocket.
This is the third time I will be here. The first time, John horned for several minutes, waiting for the door to be thrown open to allow us in but there was no reply.
The second time was the same thing.
The house looks deserted but I want to know if there is no one at home.
Where are Mr. Adams and his wife?
If they aren’t home, where are they then? I know Mr. Adams isn’t allowed into his company anymore because of the bankruptcy case and his wife doesn’t go to her mall any longer too because it has been seized by the authorities.
While searching for answers to the questions I have been asking myself since I visited my father in his office, I have come to realize a lot of things that have not been displayed in the limelight about Valerie’s father.
I am so sure she doesn’t know this about him either. The most important one which I found out today is the fact that he is not only bankrupt but his properties have also been seized by the FBI and investigations are ongoing.
I haven’t found out the source yet and why his properties were seized and that is what I am here for.
I need answers. I can’t keep up with the questions again. I can no longer provide myself with presumptuous theories to answer the questions when there is someone who can give real answers to them.Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.
Mr. Adams has all the answers.
I turn the doorknob and the door makes a creaking sound before I enter inside, everything is silent as a graveyard.
Is anyone here? If there aren’t, then why didn’t they lock all the doors?
I find myself venturing fully into the house and not going back to the gate so John can take me back to work since I can’t find anyone here.
My gut tells me something is suspicious. My instinct tells me someone is here.
When I get to the living room and there is no one there, I decide I am wrong. I let out a heavy sigh and turn around to leave when I hear the shattering of something on the staircase.
I hoist my head to see if there is anyone in sight but there is no one. Glad that my gut is right this time, I race for the staircase, taking two steps at a time.
I can’t even think properly because I can’t make out what exactly is happening. I feel like I don’t even know who the father of my wife really is and I am desperate to know the kind of relationship or history he has with my father.
My father can’t just take interest in just any stranger when it is obvious the poor man is in trouble, without having an ulterior motive.
Additionally, Valerie and I were betrothed, and that gives it all away. They knew each other for a long time. Valerie and I were betrothed to each other when we were very much younger to know what it actually means to be betrothed.
I am also curious to know how this happened and I guess knowing about this will also solve some of the puzzles if not all.
There are several rooms on the landing and I run to the first one by the right, turn the doorknob and enter to see a frail figure on the bed, with his back to me.
With a furrowed brow and my breathing heavy like someone who just did a marathon, I call out. “Mr. Adams?”
He turns back slowly and our eyes meet. I look down to see the shattered flower vase on the floor beside his bed.
Was someone here with him or he mistakenly broke it himself? Is he sick?
He doesn’t look good and I doubt if he even recognizes me.
“Ryan Lorenzo?” He calls out too, making me wrong.
I nod without question. I’m just glad he recognizes me. We haven’t met since the wedding but I guess it will be so bad of him not to recognize the man he married his daughter off to.
It doesn’t matter if this is about money or something else.
“Are you ok, sir?”
He nods with a sad smile and tries to sit up. I run to his side, careful not to step on the broken vase.
“I just woke up. I thought it was late already so I wanted to put on the lamp when I broke the vase. Sorry.”
His smile is contagious because I find myself smiling back at him. Valerie didn’t take her smile from him because her smile isn’t this way. She either smirks or laughs to ridicule me. Her sweet smiles come once in a blue moon.
I guess she got her beauty and attributes from both parents. Her father is good looking just like how her mother looks like a young lady in her thirties during the wedding.
Beauty runs in the family, I guess.
“How is Valerie?” His weak voice jerks me out of my reverie.
“She is fine.”
“I hope you didn’t come with her”, he says and I raise a brow.
What does he mean by that? He doesn’t want Valerie to come and see him? Is it because he doesn’t want her to know how bad the situation is?
“Are you ill?” I demand from him with impatience. My questions can wait if he is ill. Now I see the reason why my first two visits were in vain.
No one would have heard the sound of the horn from up here. Not this ill man.
Where is Mrs. Adam? Why isn’t she here with her sick husband?
“No, Ryan Lorenzo. I am good.” He waves me away as he sits more comfortably with his head resting on the headboard.
He is still smiling at me but I am puzzled at his formality.
“Why are you calling me that?” I ask and his smile vanishes before he questions me.
“What?”
“Ryan Lorenzo. Why are you calling me that?”
If there is anyone apart from Valerie that should be informal with me, then it should be him. He ought to call me son, not Ryan Lorenzo as if we are business partners and not related by marriage.
He let out a light chuckle, the smile creeping back to his handsome wrinkled face. “Aren’t you Ryan Lorenzo?”
I nod. “I am but I am your son-in-law. I’m just surprised…”
“Don’t be. I prefer to call you that”, he pats my shoulder while I examine him while sitting beside him.
“You don’t like to call me son because you don’t see me as your son-in-law?” It comes out as an accusation because I am disappointed.
He shakes his head. “You don’t understand, Ryan.”
Glad that Lorenzo’s name is missing, I shift on the bed, glance around the room and finally blurt out. “What is your relationship with my father?”
A heavy silence fills the room.
If there is nothing between them, he was supposed to gasp or exclaim or do something that will show his shock but he isn’t surprised at my question.
Isn’t he supposed to be surprised? Did he know I was coming here for answers?
“Dad?” I call him and he lifts his head to meet my intense gaze. “You are Valerie’s father and she is my wife so that makes me your son and you my second dad.”
His smile broadens and he shakes his head. That sort of you-know-nothing-boy shake of the head.
“What history do you have with my father?” I throw him another question. “How did Valerie and I end up getting betrothed to each other? Were you friends with my father?”
The last time I checked, betrothal is common with the royals and the rural areas not in this century when a guy can easily get a girl and ask her to marry him.
Also, this is something two parents do to cement their relationship and make their relationship stronger if their children get married to each other.
In this case, Mr. Adams and my father aren’t close and there is something fishy about it.
“How do you want me to answer all these questions? Aren’t they too much for an old man like me?” He seems to find me amusing but I am not going to let him evade my question.
It is important. This is the only way I can help him. I can’t help him if I don’t know what is going on or what has transpired between him and my father.
“Why isn’t he helping you? Why aren’t you going to his office?”
“He refused to see me”, he answers sharply. “I guess he doesn’t want to see me.”
“Why?” I question promptly, happy that he is saying something finally.
He shrugs indifferently and lays back on the bed. “That is for your father to know. I know nothing.”
It sounds like a sort of dismissal for me to go away and leave him the hell alone. When he closes his eyes, I know he doesn’t want me to question him any longer.
Have I come all the way here in vain again? Should I just go home and tell Valerie everything? Should I tell her to pressure him till he gives me answers?
I’m sure he knows something.
Impulsively, I stand upright and walk to the door, thinking he will call me back. Instead, his phone on the bed rings, and I take the exit.
Right before I can get to the staircase with anger coursing through me for the vain attempt to solve the puzzle yet again, I hear an audible exclamation followed by a loud thud.
With urgency, I whirl around and rush back inside to see him slumped on the floor, unconscious.