Chapter 16/163: A Ball of Encounters

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I blinked at him. "Huh?" 

He turned away from me at that, taking another long drag from his cigar and a gulp from his Whiskey glass. "You are among the few people who did not recognize me until I told you for myself." A slightly ironic chuckle escaped him, "Someway somehow I'm always identified because I look a lot like him."

Now let me clarify something, his tone was no joking tone, neither was it smooth.

It had a hint of grudge that I could tell so clearly.

I wet my lips, "You look like both your brother and father. Sorry but you guys have invincible family genes." I pointed out bluntly. 

His lips twitched and he smirked in my direction, giving me a good deal of sight of his perfectly lined white teeth and his cheek dimples. Wow, they share the dimples too.

His eyes roamed over me, devouring me, putting me under thorough observation. 

I fidgeted under his look, as the thought of how observed I felt since arriving here hit me. 

A small, grudging chuckle escaped me. "So, I'm supposing you dislike me as well, thinking I'm the reason for re-igniting the father-son feud after all these years." I turned away from him and gazed into the night void.

From beside me, he shrugged smoothly, "Nah, I don't really care." 

I blinked and turned to eye him curiously. 

He had such an intimidating presence with so much mystery surrounding him.

He placed his cigar between his teeth which made his words hold some muff."Just because you were that single match thrown on all of the Kerosene that has been building up for years doesn't mean you hold any blame. If anything this household has been fucked up for years." He voiced coolly. 

I could understand what he was pointing at: the cold war that had been going on between the father and the son since Reina's incident. 

Somehow, all the household knew that Rickard Ellington Conway had come back for revenge back then.

Even the father himself realized revenge can be such a miraculous motive to get his son to operate under his rules. 

I felt the aura get tense and heavy, and so decided to simply shrug off the topic. 

"So you're a physiotherapist, your brother had told me?" I smiled softly at him.

He lit his second cigar since I'd arrived, and eyeing the ashtray next to him, I saw around six squashed cigarette buds. 

Wow, a heavy smoker. 

He nodded and took a long drag from his cigarette. 

I wrinkled my nose at the smell and a small cough escaped me. 

Yep, I was still kind of allergic to the smell. 

Fixing him with my chocolate orbs, I kept my soft smile at him, and shot him with the very typical comment that any physician who smoked had definitely heard at least once in his lifetime: "Considering you're a health practitioner, you certainly are aware of the effects of excessive smoking on your health. So why are you such a heavy smoker?" I arced a brow at him. 

He let out a low slightly pained chuckle as he shook his head, clearly having heard this statement before.

But then he extended his hand which held the cigarette before him, as he let the ashes fall through the air from the balcony. 

It was a longing yet painfully calm gaze. 

It had a weird mix of soothing pain that I did not understand.

For a second, it felt as though he was eyeing a painfully gone memory which he had coped with the idea of losing, but has not forgotten yet.

"I guess we sometimes find pleasure most in things with potential to hurt us." 

And his words hit my heart deep as I saw how wounded his look was. 

It was full of loss. 

I could not respond, and he didn't seem like he was expecting a response. 

So I just let out a sigh as I observed him carefully. 

He was truthfully handsome. 

Although his eyes resembled his brother's a lot, his physical beauty was somehow different. 

It was like comparing a calm yet dangerous sea prior  a storm to that after it.

The sea still preserved its beauteous nature in both cases, however, to each case was a different essence of beauty. 

Rickard Ellington Conway had a harsh yet silent beauty. His features were sharp, and his aura was dangerous, similar to that of a sea before a storm.

Garrett Ellington on the contrary had more composed features, and his facial expression and aura reflected someone whom the world had taken a toll on. 

I don't even know how to describe the vibe I got off of him, but somehow his features reflected someone who did not sleep enough for example. The constant shiver in his fingers reflected this lack of sleep and nicotine dependency. Despite that, he was well-built and had his beauteous features like full lips, a chiseled jaw, brownish-blonde smooth hair, and deep captivating orbs that compensated for the slightly gloomy vibe he had.

Upon eyeing his well-built figure, something caught my attention, and my inner OCD cultivated by my very attentive to details and skeptical employer, got triggered.

Almost involuntarily, I shifted towards him out of habit. 

"Excuse me, but your necktie is intimidatingly crooked, can I fix it?" I blurted as I eyed it with a frown. 

For a second, he blinked at me in surprise, clearly not expecting my action.

Seconds after, his body language relaxed a bit as he shot me a small smile, "Go ahead." 

I reached out closing a bit of distance between us as I fixed his necktie fast and smooth. 

He had a mixed smell of cigarettes and heavy cologne, and I felt his gaze observing me intently. 

He tried not to shift as he blew his smoke away. 

I wrinkled my nose again at that as I frowned looking up at him. "Can you pause your smoking for a minute, Mister?" 

This time he clearly seemed surprised with my snap, as he blinked at me for some second. 

Slowly, his eyes regained form and he narrowed them, as he observed me more intently, and his expression suddenly became more serious. 

Nearing his face slightly towards mine, he captured my eyes. "Someone has been crying her eyes out before she stumbled upon me." He voiced confidently. 

I gasped then looked away. 

Wait... How could he tell?! I was careful to apply a lot of concealer to hide my tear strains.

Yet he...

"You... You are mistaken." I didn't look at him. 

He kept fixing me with those mysterious blues as he intensified them. 

Seeing I was still avoiding to look at him, he let out a small humorless chuckle, as he turned away. "My, my. Rickard must have fucked up bad this time."

I blinked, turning towards him in confusion. 

"To be super honest, I cannot see how someone who seems as talkative and generally nice as you might actually get along with my brother." He murmured coldly.

At that, I got what he was pointing at. 

I fidgeted in my place. "Y-You're mistaken, he did not do anything." I mouthed in a low tired voice, as I recalled my outburst at the president. "If anything, I think Mr. Ellington is really nice." I struggled for proper phrasing. 

He fixed me with his gaze, preserving its coldness as he suffocated his cigar bud to death on the ashtray. 

Standing up, he took a final gulp of his whiskey glass emptying it. "He was so, until he became a replica of my father after the incident years ago." He spat, and started walking back.

I stood up pacing after him. "But... that's not true. He still got his humane and empathetic side, no matter how much he tries not to appear like it!" I defended, "And he definitely deals with problems way more differently than your father does!" 

As I spoke, it crystallized further in my head how wrong I had been in my outburst, comparing Mr. Ellington to the chairman. 

Because I knew solely that he was everything but that.

Ugh, I regret it so much.

Garrett Ellington remained silent, his gaze relatively dark as we walked back inside, and Alba had joined back by now.

As we emerged back into the ball, the chatters of the people as well as the blinding lights and fancy music made my heart sink. Honestly, I despised the aura here.

From beside me, I eyed the young Ellington. 

He was looking in a certain direction. 

It took me some seconds to follow his line of sight, but once I reached a certain scene, I knew his target of observation.

It was kind of hard to miss.

She looked like a phenomenon

Bright red lipstick and a wide seductive and playful smile, short shoulder length randomly curled hair, a thin black choker that had a small golden key dangling from it, a bright coral pink satin dress that revealed her huge cleavage and reached some centimeters above her navel. Beneath her thin waist, came wide hips that were emphasized by the tightness of her dress. And her left hand, which was completely exposed by her sleeveless dress, had a huge and clear tattoo on her upper arm. It was a chaotic drawing with so much roses and crosses intertwining. And this left hand extended to hold a thin long cigar which she had just removed from between her huge lips, as she laughed loudly while chattering with the group of men around her, clearly taken in by her aura. 

She didn't look young, clearly an experienced woman in her thirties, as she eyed every person around her playfully and extremely seductively, somehow realizing the effect she had on men around her.

Yet what she seemed most ignorant off, was the effect she had on the man next to me, who was devouring her with a deep and longing look.

His earlier words shot to my mind at that:

'I guess we sometimes find pleasure most in things with potential to hurt us.' 

Eyeing his facial expression, I could see the glint of pain and want clearly displayed in his look. It was a painful look.

He looked hurt, wounded, damaged.

A maid passed by us holding a tray of drinks, and the young Ellington did not hesitate to take a shot from her tray, gulping it at once as he signaled for her to wait for him, before he took another glass of whiskey. 

I frowned, "Hey, isn't this too much for you?" 

He didn't reply, as he eyed a group of guests before us. 

The maid was approaching them with the drinks, and two old, apparently in their forties, seemingly important businessmen were eyeing her dirtily, as one of them invaded her personal space to take his drink. 

The poor young lady shivered but dared not answer as the man was clearly important. 

I bit my lips and saw that Alba next to me was equally tense.

The feminist in us both wanted to interfere but were hesitant about causing a scene.

But that was until the old man's hand came down to land over the young lady's butt, as it visibly fondled there in harassment.

I moved but oh someone was faster than me.

"Don't touch the maid..." His voice came low at first as he moved, "DON'T TOUCH THE FUCKING MAID!" 

It was a roar this time.

BAM!

Garrett Ellington's fist came over the old man's jaw, and the latter fell to the ground.

Screams echoed from around us, and what happened clearly caught attention from around us. 

"Master Garrett! Please, the chairman warned us about causing any commotions! Please–" The poor maid pleaded in fear, but the young master seemed utterly unaffected. 

He stood before the old man who was struggling to stand up with the help of his other fellow, and he had his jaw clenched. His entire body shook with anguish and his muscles looked popped up. 

Eyeing his expression, his eyes were bloodshot, clearly reflecting he had over drank, and they reflected nothing but blind violence.

He was in rage.

He looked like he was not seeing before him, but was completely blinded by ultimate anger and wanted to let it out.

His wounded expression moment ago occurred to me.

Yes, I knew the maid scene was triggering to him.

But it most definitely was not what triggered such volcanic rage.

From some feet away, I saw the woman Garrett was looking at some minutes ago, as she approached the scene with her group. 

And as her eyes fell on Garrett, they widened slightly, and a fast almost imperceptible hint of longing crossed her look as well.

That was where I became sure that the young Ellington was not going insane due to the single reason of an old geezer harassing one of his estate's maids. 

And he emphasized that, as he charged at the old man again. 

The old man was in no better mood if anything. He spat blood, as he moved to charge back, "Why you motherfucking brat..." 

I moved at that, and Alba's gasp was heard from beside me, "Charlotte!!" 

Positioning myself between them, I felt the old man behind me stop in surprise. 

But the young Ellington was apparently too involved in his rage to stop. 

I shut my eyes as I saw his widen, and I knew he was in no control of his momentum. 

But he had to stop, because I knew his father enough to know he won't spare him.  

And I knew that that was not the impression he wanted to give her of him. 

Not this violent, blinded, and raging Garrett Giovanni.

In a split of a second, three things occurred simultaneously. 

Firstly, a huge silhouette appeared before me, pushing the young master back. 

I gasped as I eyed Leonard Beards' muscular figure. 

"Garrett!" He roared, "Calm down, for the love of God! Have you lost your mind!" 

Simultaneously behind me, the massive figure of Romeo Sparks blocked the way of the old businessman, attempting to charge back at the young Ellington master.

And I had the chance to observe both scenes at once, as a pair of hands wrapped around me, moving me from the target zone of Garrett Ellington Conway. 

I gasped, recognizing the scent with my K-9 unit senses. 

A smile crossed my lips on its own, as I eyed my savior.

"Why, if it isn't the president of the seventh branch, Mr. Nicholas Daniels?" I mused.

With his head above mine due to our height difference, a small smile crossed his lips, showing his chin dimple. "You really just can't stay out of trouble, huh?" 

I chuckled, but then the ongoing commotion caught both our attentions again. 

Garrett Giovanni struggled against the steel grip of Leonard Beards, as his alcohol abuse started prevailing more due to his violent behavior. On the other hand, the older man attempted to surpass Romeo Sparks, but was at too much disadvantage.

Chatters from around rose more at this point, and I could tell that if this lasted some more minutes, the ball would actually be ruined. 

What I could not tell though, was the reason the chatters suddenly died out. 

At the same minute. 

All sounds disappeared, and only Garrett's curses for Leonard Beards to let him go remained.

And he stepped into the crowd.

Passing by Abel Daniels and I, Rickard Ellington Conway did not bother sparing us a glance, as he headed towards the old man and Romeo at first.

I could not see his expression, but I could damn well see its effect on the old man's face, as he paled.

With a casual, swift motion of his hand, he gestured at the leader of the Alpha. Romeo let go at that, and the old man still eyed the president with wide eyes that shook with evident fear.

Mr. Ellington's voice then came absolute, thoughtless, and casually frozen, "I am certain the gentleman here won't be causing any further commotion." 

"Right?" –His majesty's inquiry came, and every single person within a three meter circumference, I could tell, knew that although it was in a questioning tone, it was already answered. And ultimate.

Turning towards his younger brother, I saw he was still wriggling, his voice thundering as he pushed against the vice president. 

The president turned towards them at that, his gaze freezing everything around them as it concentrated on them.

"Leave him, Leonard."

The single line was enough for the vice president to let go of the young Ellington, who in turn stepped forward in his brother's direction, his expression still mirroring murder intent. 

A step or two before he reached Mr. Ellington, Garrett stopped, his neck muscles popping up as he clenched his fists, "Stay out of this." Garrett's voice came low, as though he was trying hard to conceal his anger and not let it out at his older brother. 

As though he were observing a very ordinary sunny day view, my employer's expression remained unfazed.

My mouth went dry, preparing myself for the clash that was going to happen. For three reasons:  

One, I knew enough of Mr. Ellington to know how much he disliked useless commotions. For him, a glare and a threat would have done the deed instead of getting involved in a fight and making a scene. 

Two, Garrett Ellington Conway was mad. He was in rage and he had ultimate believe he was doing what made most sense to him —at the moment, at least. 

And Three, the two were brothers. Brothers of similar determination and attitude when it came to a certain view they had about something. 

And so I could foresee an unavoidable clash about to occur, it not very good end results.
Rickard Ellington Conway parted his lips: 

Yikes, the first shot!

"Giovanni, lascia cadere la questione," His voice came low, composed, and ultimately opposite to how burning and merciless I had expected it to be. A few seconds of silence passed, before he added, slowly, "Per favore."

**lascia cadere la questione, per favore: drop the matter, please**

I blinked.

Huh...Huh?

I... I did not know much Italian... But 'Per favore'... I knew enough to know what it means...

Was this really... Was this really the great, merciless R.E.C. issuing a command?!

Now don't get me wrong, his voice still held the same arrogance and coldness it always had, but it was not challenging, or threatening like I had expected it to be. 

It was a demand, but not an order. 

And that seemed to make a massive difference for the younger brother, who apparently had expected his older brother to address him as though he were among his underlings.

But he did not

He had addressed him like family

And maybe that was what Garrett needed to calm down. 

To not having a replica of his father –like he had described him earlier– address him. 

To not feel he is being judged as the young spoiled Ellington brat who is not as responsible as the perfect older one. 

The two Ellington blues clashed, as the brothers maintained an eye contact for some seconds, both unflinching. 

Slowly, the muscles of Giovanni relaxed after a minute or so, as his expression slowly started untangling as well, reflecting a mixture of emotionlessness and restlessness. 

Be finally turned and started walking away, wordlessly. 

I saw that Luciana Ellington had arrived at this, as she moved to follow him, "Garrett, Garrett wait!" 

From in between the crowd, I eyed as the lady of Garrett's

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