Pretending to be Innocent Though Lust Satisfier
What kind of Destiny?
The sound of loud music does not necessarily cover the various erotic sounds in a luxurious room in a private villa in the Puncak area.
The sensual sounds managed to attract the attention of a man who was still sitting quietly looking at the crazy action live in front of his eyes.
The show was just stared flat by the man sitting alone on the single sofa. Expressionless and reactionless. Especially erection.
"Sagala sir, don't you want to try it with us?"
A soft voice full of seduction was deliberately uttered by the woman wearing a half-face mask that only showed her eyes, but not with her synthetic body exposed almost completely.
"Look a little closer, Mr. Sagala. I'll make sure yours gets pleasure from here" The woman spoke again while pointing out something that shouldn't be cheap.
But men who are still at home sitting in their full clothes are not provoked at all. The atmosphere in the room was no longer good. But it also does not make the desire of the man stirred.
This is Jonas Hermawan Sagala. A 31-year-old man with a handsome face. Mixed blood descent and the only son of a mining and property businessman whose name is already known in the Asian scene. But unfortunately, these few years the successor to the business empire of the descendants of the Sagala couple had negative rumors. That the man was IM.PO.TEN and had a sexual disorder.
"Damn!"
Jonas got up from his seat feeling annoyed. He came out of the hot room where the sacrilegious action was still going on. That's enough, he thought. Free to follow Endrew's crazy idea which he said could help himself to turn on. In fact, his junior was still unmoved and like numbness.
Is this karma?
...----------------...
The same night. In a luxury house located in the Heart of the City, precisely in the Elite cluster area with fairly tight security. There was the sound of a roar of pain from the corner of an empty room that was more similar was called a warehouse.
A woman was lying helplessly on the cold marble floor with the corners of her lips bruised and fresh blood clearly imprinted on her joints.
After returning home from a late-night reunion. The mother slaughtered the body and face of the child until battered.
"You want to learn to be Jal*ng, huh?!"
The middle-aged woman who had the title Mother came back closer, and this time forcibly pulled her daughter's long black hair with all her might until her head looked up. Even a few strands of long hair were forcibly removed from his scalp.
"Again dare to go home late! I broke your leg with a machete!" threatened again. And after that he threw his son's head until it hit the floor.
That boy is Quenby Agatha. A 29-year-old woman whose daily life helps the mother keep one of her boutiques. The second daughter of three brothers who were treated differently.
I don't know what possessed the soul of the mother, so the heart to do violence to her own child. And what made Quen not accept, that the harsh treatment was only done to him.
He once wanted to escape from a more luxurious house called a prison. Maybe even better prison according to Quenby. But alas, the intention to escape was hampered because he had no savings.
Unlike the other two brothers who always get transfers with a fantastic nominal from the mother every month. Even the brother who is married and has a husband still gets regular transfers every month. Quenby works hard. Ironically, even only he who did not get a penny from the results of his hard work.
In the darkness of the dust-filled room, Quen sobbed. She was crying in silence. The pain in his body is nothing compared to the treatment of the mother's bias in treating him. It even happened when he was a kid.
"Papa .., Quenby kangen" he said as he held back pain.
...----------------...
A few days after the incident where the mother beat him. This morning Quenby is getting ready to start his activities.
"You want to go to the Boutique with a bruised face like that?!" reprimanding the mother when she saw her daughter was about to get into the car.
"It's been two days Quen hasn't been to the Boutique, Ma. Today there is a schedule with the Client, We need to meet in person to discuss the design they submit" explained the woman. The schedule of meeting the Client today cannot be represented.
"Keep later if people are there to ask why with your face? you're gonna accuse Mama? That so?!" the nerves in the mother's neck stand out when she says it.
Yes, if only I could, Quenby would probably prefer to report to the police station alone for all of Mama's rude actions.
"Later Quen add the cushion so that the bruise is covered. Already Mah, afraid of being late, it's not good if it's up to the Client who is waiting" After that Quenby got into his car and passed leaving the Mother who still put on the face of sangar.
On the way to Boutique located in Darmawangsa area. Precisely in a Sedan driven by Quenby himself, the woman glanced at the rearview mirror hanging to see the condition of her face that still left bruises.
"Always, don't take the blame!" quenby grumbled at his mother's strange attitude. The mother should have tied him up in the barn until the bruise was gone. So no need to worry about people being suspected.
Suddenly the red light stopped the Quenby vehicle which was not fast. Because traffic conditions in Jakarta are always crowded creeping. It was 9 in the morning. The time should be where the vehicle starts to thin, but still solid creeping.
The two female honey netra caught a business card lying on the dashboard of her car. He had forgotten his intention to contact the person who had given him the card.
Quenby's fingers were stretched out to reach for the black business card. He read the inscription carved in silver color listed there. "Jonas Hermawan Sagala, President Director of PT Bawera Sagala." The woman smiled meaningfully.
It had been two days since his promise to contact his former upperclassman. But he hasn't done it yet. He couldn't possibly meet Jonas in the shape of his battered face right? What did the man say later?
Quenby took his phone and put Jonas' name into contact. But after pinned the phone number of his former upperclassman, Quenby giggled amusedly. He laughed at himself who presumptuously wrote the name of his former upperclassman with that designation on his phone contact.
To My Jonas's
[Hi, Brother Jonas ..]
Messages were sent.
Quenby tapped his index finger on the handle of the steering wheel. He really hoped that the man would return the message immediately.
Ting!
He immediately saw the notification there. Finally the anxiety that Quenby felt fell out with a message from 'My Jonas' embedded on his phone. He waited a while to open the message. Quenby did not want the man to assume that he was waiting for a reply.
After nearly 25 seconds, Qeunby finally ventured into the conversation room and began reading it.
From My Jonas
[You're Quen?]
Quenby smiled reading that. He did not expect it turned out that the man who had been his upperclassman could guess that he was the one who sent the message. Though Qeunby did not mention his identity when he sent the message to the man just now.
Can Quenby assume that the man still thinks of him as a special person?
I don't know. Quenby's going back to try his luck. This time he will try to tie the former upperclassman to his life in order to pull out Qeunby from the hell that the Mama created.
TB
