Chapter 1

“That woman is a slut!”

My dominant brow attained its highest peak in disgust at the plump man’s words. I merely chuckled in response. Instead, I turned to face the two officers in front of us, fighting the urge to slap the chubby face of the man beside me, who was wearing a blue corporate shirt and black pants.

“Excuse me, officers, I hate to break it to you, but I’m the one who got duped here," I stated before folding my arms across my chest, constantly raising my left brow.

It was true. I was on various dating sites, having different names and personalities per website and application.

I met Francisco in Tagged where I dressed up as a dweeb. So when he contacted me, I grabbed the opportunity. He instantly asked us to meet. I stalked him in his real accounts and found out that he was married for eight years and had four children, all girls. I started getting my head into the game as he seemed loaded.

I permed and dyed my originally black, straight hair to bright red. To complete my nerdy get-up, I wore a very naive white floral dress, black sandals, and thick-rimmed, rectangular glasses.

I was brought back to reality when the annoying creature heartily laughed at my words, and his laughter echoed through the fragile walls of the sixty-ninth' precinct of San Diego.

His laugh was contagious. I thought I was going to laugh with him at first. But he suddenly went serious, as if he just recently understood what I actually meant.

“What did you just say, you fucking bitch?” he hissed at me.

He raised his right arm to hit me, but I was quick to get up and struck his balding head first. “What! You’re gonna hit me? Bring it on!”

I was already in my offensive stance, oblivious to the panicked shouting of the officers. God, I even forgot that I was currently in a police station.

And though Francisco Rodelo seemed to have the perfect marriage and family, he had at least three mistresses, excluding me, of course.

We never got to that point. He obviously had a very unhealthy and perverted lifestyle— which I was trying to exploit. I was planning to reveal everything to his family later on after I skimmed some of his dirty money. But the bastard was gifted with an unnecessary intuition that he found out about my schemes before I could even get to work.

Now, Francisco got up from his seat, ready to return the favor. Luckily, the officers were quick to their feet, or else Francisco would have been sent to the hospital by now, as I was very much— dying to kill him.

I scuffled with the taller officer, probably in his early fifties, just so I could reach the balding idiot and give him another smack on his fathead when a gunshot rang from a distance.

Shutting my eyes, I quickly ducked to my feet as the officer loosened his hold on me. I covered my ears with both hands, thinking the bullet was meant for me.

“Jay, Diego, we need your help here!” We all turned to look at another officer who appeared from nowhere. His uniform was soaked in blood. He was clutching a gun in his right hand.

The officer holding Francisco turned pale. “We’re coming! Will deal with these two in a second!”

I sighed in relief when I realized that was just a blank shot just to shut us up.

After the bloody officer disappeared, Francisco again stole the spotlight and turned to me. “I’m pressing charges!” he warned me, gritting his teeth.

Wow! He wasn't even afraid his family would find out.

I felt a pair of cold objects fasten on my wrist. I didn’t notice when and how the officer had gotten a hold of my hands.

“What the hell!” I complained as he handcuffed me. "You can't do this to me!"

“We will be keeping you here. Just until we finish the investigation," he coldly informed me.

"What do you mean? Why are you keeping me and not him? I didn't do anything!" I objected. My gaze darted to Francisco, who was now smirking at me.

"I hope you rot in here, fucking bitch!" His eyes glared at me while he grinned like an idiot.

"You think you're fucking winning here? Dream on!" I snapped back at him.

I suppressed a cry. There's no way I'm crying in front of that stupid idiot.

I glanced back at the middle-aged officer, who was staring at me as I threw more offensive words at Francisco.

"Why do you believe him?" He started to drag me inside the narrow hallway. "I'm the innocent one here! I got catfished by that idiot! What's wrong with changing my display name? Everyone does that these days!" I questioned him as he yanked me inside a very dark cell.

The entire police station looked like a haunted attraction on the inside, especially that cell. I got in without removing my eyes from the officer, but my peripheral vision confirmed that the cell was empty.

"First of all, we have evidence: that substance you put in his drink."

I completely shut up as he mentioned that. It was true I tried drugging Francisco.

He went on as I remained silent. "We'll get back to you. We'll just deal with the situation in the men's lockup," he briefly explained before leaving me alone in the terrifying cell. My heart raced as I realized the situation I was currently in.

'I am fucking locked up and they have evidence against me. This must be a dream. This should be a dream!'

There was a nearby officer seated beside the cell.

"Hey! You have to get me out of here!" I screamed as I grappled the rusty bars, hoping it would miraculously open, but the cop ignored me.

"I swear I did not steal anything from that stupid idiot!" I added, still trying to catch his attention.

"He wasn't even loaded! That freaking ugly, fat man," I muttered to myself, so the officer nearby wouldn't hear.

Since I turned eighteen, I had been catfishing and swindling men, but nobody dared to report me to the police. Of course, those men feared their respective families would find out about their extracurricular activities.

My lips quivered as I stifled a cry. This was the first time I got locked up, and it was confusing and terrifying.

'What if I really rot in jail?'

I couldn't even spin around and take a glimpse of the entirety of the foreboding cell behind me.

"That ugly fat head! I swear I would siphon all of his fat and make him drink everything!" I exclaimed to myself. "That cheap bastard! Millionaire, my ass!"

Then I heard a loud commotion from the other side of the cell. I thought that was my chance.

"Officers, please! I swear I—" I tried taking advantage of the situation but failed.

A deep voice from somewhere suddenly thundered through the cell walls I was in. "Will you please shut it!"

My eyes widened as I slowly turned to look at the voice's owner behind me.

"Holy fuck!" I screamed as I saw a huge figure of a man lurking at the far right corner of the cell. Suddenly, fear crept over me.

'Has he been there since I got in?'

I screamed at the top of my lungs, quickly turning my back from him and jiggling the unmovable bars. "Help me!" I urged the officer nearby. "Officer, please! Help!"

The cop came running toward me. "What's the problem here?" He was clutching the gun in his holster.

"There's a man in here! Get me out!" I ordered him.

The cop removed his grasp on his gun. "Okay, calm down," he commanded, holding his hands up to my face.

"No! I'm not calming the fuck down! Get me out of here, this instant!" I hissed at him.

"Hey! Hey! Don't panic! You're fine! You're fine!"

"Oh, yeah? There's a grown-ass man in here, probably convicted of what? Murder? And you put me in the same cell as him? Now you expect me to calm my fucking nerves down? Are you for real, officer?"

The officer heaved a deep sigh. "For your information, he's cuffed."

"Oh? Am I supposed to party now? Don't you even watch the movies, huh? These men could even kill with their noses!"

My heart drummed wildly as my cellmate suddenly paced toward me. I think I'm going to pass out in panic.

"Just bring me back to that bloody cell. It's so effing loud in here," he casually ordered.

And when the fucking dim light that was coming from the other side of the hallway finally shone on him, I realized something weird.

He fucking looked hot, and my jaw literally dropped, blinking profusely in confusion, admiration, and possibly attraction as I analyzed his entirety. He was probably my age, but he looked more decent than me.

He was wearing a gray buttoned shirt and denim jeans. He wasn't as buff as my other daddies, but he still had a toned body. His face was stubbled, but he still looked fresh— roughly fresh.

He looked at me, perplexed and maybe disgusted with my reaction.

"What's that for?" he asked me, eyes squinting.

'Damn! He looked arrogant and irritable. Definitely my type!'

I gulped a lump of air as my eyes darted to his plump, heart-shaped lips.

"Hm…" I'm definitely losing my sanity to crush on an offender or possibly— a criminal. "I was just…."

He looked even hotter than Dylan—

I winced as I suddenly remembered Dylan.

Dylan— that crappy bastard!

I shook my head as if his name and our memories together would disappear if I jiggled my head vehemently.

"You…," my gorgeous cellmate trailed off, analyzing my reaction, "are fucking crazy."

He glowered as he scanned my entirety, probably thinking I had just escaped from a mental institute or a boring class. I wouldn't blame him.

"Sorry, I thought you were someone I knew," I lied, hoping he wouldn't see through me.

He was too young to be my sugar dad, but he seemed loaded. Maybe we could develop something in here.

He could be my silver lining.

Suddenly, another male officer approached us, and my face excitedly brightened.

"Are you letting me out now?" My eyes glimmered with hope as I asked him. However, he didn't even glance at me as if I was not around.

"Mr. Eautiquiano Fauste," the officer called.

I automatically gazed at my cellmate, and after a couple of seconds, I burst out laughing. I flipped out for a few seconds more, and when I realized they were all staring at me, I stopped.

"I'm sorry. It's just—"

The officer cleared his throat without even letting me finish and just went on to state his business.

"Mr. Fauste, you are now free to go."

I pursed my lips to keep myself from laughing once again when the officer refused to repeat my cellmate's weird name.

The other officer opened the cell, and Eautiquiano quickly got out, leaving me behind. He didn't even bother looking back at me. My pride was shattered into pieces. I thought he'd be interested in me.

'Maybe a nerdy get-up doesn't turn him on. I wonder what could turn him on? A shy and quiet type?'

Thanks to him, I had an exciting time in the cell, even if it was brief.

I spent the rest of my time sleeping on the wooden bed of the cell. I was woken up by an officer prodding my arm.

"Wake up, sleepyhead!"

I groaned as I woke up and squinted my eyes at him, still dazed.

"Time to go," he commanded.

"Really!" I rubbed my eyes, thinking this was just a dream, but I almost cried when I realized it was real.

"Oh, my God!" I screamed as I jumped out of bed. "Why? What happened? I questioned him as he guided me back to the officers' desks.

There I saw someone familiar.

Dylan's fifty-four-year-old personal secretary, Mr. Bolton.

'So Dylan finally decided to save my ass again.'

Mr. Bolton was Dylan's right arm. According to Dylan, Bolton has taken care of him since he was a child.

Mr. Bolton was aware of my relationship with Dylan. He was against us at first, but when he realized I could make his young master happy, he fully supported us, even though he knew Dylan was already arranged to marry someone else.

'But where is he?'

I scanned the area, hoping I could find Dylan— hoping he would, once again, save me from the depths of hell. But he was nowhere to be found.

My gaze shifted back to Mr. Bolton. I just realized he looked raddled and grim. A sort of numbness instantly gripped my heart.

I winced as I noticed the swollen bags above his eyes. He was emitting distress and despair. It was infectious. I felt a sudden uneasiness creeping inside me as I regarded him.

'Something's wrong.'

But before I could approach him, an officer had me sign some papers.

My feet felt heavy as I inched toward Mr. Bolton. He stayed silent as I stood in front of him. I could see the tears brimming in his eyes.

"Where's Dylan? If he decided to save me, why is he not here?"

"Ms. Fulgencio…." he trailed off, then he started heaving sobs until he completely broke down.

Tears had started soaking my eyes as I watched him weep. Dreadful thoughts quickly flooded my mind, but I was in denial.

"I told you to call me Eleth," I said as tears started falling from my eyes. His cries were contagious. I knew something wrong had happened, but still, I was looking at the brighter side.

I chuckled, furtively wiping my tears with my hand. "What happened?"

Finally…. I finally let the words out.

"The young master… he—" he muttered in between sobs, "he's not with us anymore."

My brain couldn't process his words. It was like a great deal of thunder had struck me. I couldn't move even if my body was burning in pain.

I knew at that moment I had died with Dylan.