Just as Alex walked out of the house, he was greeted by the lady next door.
"Aa... Alex! Where are you off to so early?" The lady asked, smiling and oozing with affectionate vibes.
"Miss Cole," Alex greeted back.
Standing in front of him was the most infamous woman in the neighbourhood, Margaret Cole. Margaret lives alone in the house right next to Alex's house. Probably in her early thirties, Margaret was a person of a warm personality, which made it easy for people to approach her. With black, shiny, wavy hairs just below her shoulder, fair skin, and an ample bosom, she was only about a head shorter than Alex. Margaret was a lady with a mature aura around her, and with her seductive charms, she was an ideal woman for men. No one knows what she does for a living, but she sure was rich. Despite her warm and affectionate personality, numerous rumours about her floating around.
Some say that she married an old guy, and after his death, all the property was transferred to her. Some say that she is a slut warming the beds of rich men, but no one knows for sure. But despite the rumours, the number of suitors waiting for her at her doorsteps never ceases to amaze Alex. Men from many wealthy and influential families tried to marry her into their families, but no one was successful. And this was not just hearsay, Alex has seen men on their knees waiting for her for hours.
This chapter upload first at NovelUsb.Com
Dressed in a black, glittering slip dress, it looked like she just got back home from some party."Jeez, Alex! I told you to just call me Margaret," The lady said coquettishly. She sounded a bit tipsy, "Miss Cole sounds so distant and makes me feel like an old lady." Margaret said as she seductively traced her finger along Alex's face gently.
Though Alex loved it, he knew this lady in front of him was out of his league and mixing with her will only invite more trouble for him from her suitors. Moreover, he knew that Margaret was not seriously flirting with him. She was just teasing him, maybe to kill her boredom.
"I have an interview today Margaret. Why don't we chat comfortably after I am back?" Alex grabbed her finger between his thumb and index finger and gently pulled it away from his face as if it was not a finger but a priceless piece of work. The softness of her finger did make his heart flutter.
"So today is a big day," Margaret smiled and placed her other hand on his chest and began caressing his chest over his shirt as her hand slid down slowly.
Alex nodded. His eyes closed on their own, and he was trying his best to control his breathing.
"If you get this job, you will treat me to a meal, won't you?" Margaret asked. Her hand was now down his navel, about to reach his pants.
"Alright," Alex was barely able to squeeze these words out. He was blushing all over, and it was getting hard for him to control himself with each passing second.
Being treated like a toy in broad daylight, that too in the middle of the road, while the onlookers gave him weird glances, was not, particularly Alex's style. He always believed he should be the one trying to control the situation in the lead, but in front of this woman, he felt helpless. Though he was enjoying the touch of those soft hands, he was not able to endure the humiliation anymore. Stoning his heart, Alex leaned backwards, getting out of her grip, and ran from there as fast as he could, not turning back to give the vixen a second look. He chose to retreat and admit defeat rather than stand there, humiliating himself.
"Hehe… So I do have a little charm left," Margret couldn't help but feel proud of herself. Giving Alex one last look, she also walked inside her house, humming a song to herself.
Alex, on the other hand, ran as fast as his legs could carry him. After running for God knows how long, he finally stooped when he saw a cab coming his way. Drenched in sweat and panting heavily, he stopped the cab. Giving the address of his destination to the driver, he laid back and relaxed, trying to catch his breath.
He stared out of the window, thinking back on his life and how it had all changed in the past few months. He was not a member of the Rutherford family and had no memories of himself other than what he had accumulated for about in the last one year. His parents told him that he appeared in front of Martha's car out of nowhere, and they got into an accident. Martha admitted him to the hospital, where he was unconscious for more than a week, battling between life and death. When Alex woke up, he lost all his memories. Martha then took it upon herself to nurse Alex back to health. During this time, although the two of them were strangers, they bonded with each other, and the Rutherford couple decided to adopt Alex as their own son.
But things were not as easy as he hoped them to be. Just after as he was discharged from the hospital and moved in with the Rutherfords, Alex began to have dreams, not ordinary dreams, but more like they were fragments of his past, and they were in no way pleasant. Initially, they were once in a fortnight experience, but lately, these nightmares are becoming more and more frequent. This made him wonder if this was some sort of sign that he was going to regain his memory soon. What is he going to do if he remembers his past? Was there someone waiting for him? Will he have to leave his newfound family and go back to his previous life? But more importantly, will he be able to leave them?
Right now, Alex was perfectly content with his peaceful life with the Rutherfords. George was a loving husband and fun to be with father. Martha was always caring about him and loved him as her own son. He also got a best friend in the family, his brother, the real son of the Rutherfords. His brother never showed any animosity or hatred towards him. From the beginning, he was more than happy to accommodate Alex to the family. Alex was the one most dejected when his brother decided to go abroad to study. Overall, Alex could not ask for anything better. But he does not why, somewhere deep down in his heart, he felt empty, as if all this was nothing more than a sham and was not for the real him.
'What kind of childhood I had?' Alex always thought about it whenever he saw his scars. It was evident that not all of them were from the accident, particularly the two bullet wounds. While he was engrossed in all these thoughts, the taxi slowly drove Alex closer to his destination.
* * * * *
(A/N: Guys do vote with your Power Stones and leave a comment.. It won't take more than a minute, but it means a lot to new authors like me.)