Chapter 3

Don't Kill Him

Stupid Becky, she had never been to the elite mansions in LA before. They were all located very far apart and difficult to reach because they were a bit hidden. She walked the endless streets in her high heels, her cell phone was completely dead so she couldn't call an online taxi service. It was absolutely perfect!

Her mind wondered about the reason why her father stole James's Miller painting.

All this time, she thought her father was just an innocent and normal person. She never thought he would stumble into such a complicated matter. Fifteen years in prison? That sounds terrible! But being a slave to James Miller sounds even more terrifying!

She puffed out her cheeks, tired that she couldn't find a busy street even though she had walked almost two miles.

She walked limply to the side of the road and took off her painful high heels, it turned out that her feet were injured quite badly. Suddenly, tears dripped from her eyes one by one and were followed by loud cries. She felt very drained both physically and mentally, She didn't know where her father was, what if she couldn't find her?

Suddenly a loud horn sounded, making her turn around in surprise. Not only because of the sudden appearance of the car but also because she knew what kind of car it was! Bugatti La Voiture Noire! The most expensive car in the world! She had seen Christiano Ronaldo ride it, but suddenly she had a bad feeling about it, who would be behind the wheel?

Soon the car door opened and someone in sporty clothes got out of there.

''Shit!' she cursed when all she saw was James Miller, the person she had avoided the most.

"Get in!" said him with a straight face and cold intonation that gave Becky goosebumps.

"No! I'll find a way! You can't force me to get into your car!" she snapped confidently.

James Miller reached into his pocket, pulling out a cell phone.

"Listen to this carefully!" he said as he pressed a file on his cellphone, not long after the voice of a man who spoke with a thick Russian accent could be heard very clearly.

'My people said that Mr. Becket sold the painting to Sergei Antonov, you know Mr. Antonov never returns what he bought, right?'

Becky gulped, panicking.

"You mean my father is in Russia now?" he asked trembling.

"I don't know where the fuck is he right now but obviously, my painting is definitely in the wrong hands!"

"I can talk to my father and ask him to return the money to...who was that again? Um, Antonov whoever it was, then we can get your painting back and everything will be just fine," she said with a slight smile on her face.

James Miller's face hardened, "You don't know who Sergei Antonov is, do you? He is a first-class Russian mafia and he would never return what he bought from anyone! Because when he bought something from someone it means he wanted that thing so bad!" he barked in anger.

Becky gulped, and she bit her lip frantically. Thinking.

"Then I will ask my father to give the money from Sergei Antonov to you! You will get your money and my father will be free! It's brilliant, right?!"

James Miller took a deep breath, he was losing his temper. He walked quickly towards Becky who was still standing awkwardly barefoot.

"I don't know if you're an idiot or what, but the painting that your father stole from me is so rare! Do you think Leonardo Da Vinci would come back alive to paint that Salvator Mundi again? I don't need money I already have a lot!" he hissed, his eyes were stared at Becky sharply.

"I don't know anything! All I know is that I work day and night to support my two younger siblings! How can you bestow all this on me? I'm innocent!" shouted Becky as she threw her high heels on the ground. Her chest heaved up and down in annoyance. "You know what? Just put him in jail I don't care! This is too much for me!" said her at last. She walked away from James Miller, limp and barefoot.

"Okay, but I changed my mind, I won't bother putting your father in jail, I can just kill him, it will make me feel better," said James Miller nonchalantly. He turned around and walked casually to his sports car.

Becky stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide in surprise. She turned around and shouted,

"You're kidding aren't you?!"

James Miller who was opening the car door turned his head, he looked at her with a scornful look. "You think someone like me can joke around? I changed my mind after I heard about Sergio Antonov, your father has gone too far..."

Becky felt the chills down her spine instantly, her hands and feet sweaty and shaking. She was scared, what if James Miller ended her father's life?

When James Miller started to restart the car's engine, Becky was in a state of confusion. Should she run in his way and become his slave? Or should she just turn away and pretend nothing happened?

She closed her eyes, counting to three, and then she felt her feet sprint and stop in front of the car with her arms outstretched. "I will cooperate! Please! Don't kill my father!" she shouted so loudly that her veins were visible. She could see James Miller staring at her with a dark, triumphant gaze.

"Get in!" barked James Miller, gesturing with his hand.

Holding back tears she stepped into the world's most expensive car, she couldn't believe what she had just said earlier, was that mean she would be James Miller's slave forever?

The car was speeding through the black asphalt. Becky sat limply, her eyes both empty. This morning she was still eating cereal with Phoebe and Alex planning what to do for the weekend, things were happening so fast that she didn't have time to think about it. Suddenly, James's cell phone rang, he pushed the green button and talked through the AirPods in his ear, and seconds after that,

"Where are you taking me?" asked Becky without turning to him.

"To your father, didn't I tell you, I can do anything?" he answered lightly, he just got the call from his people that they had William Beckett with them.

Becky turned around in surprise, her heart racing so fast she was having trouble breathing.

"Do whatever you want but please don't kill him..."