"Rise and shine, Cain!" a noisy thud made Tyler spring up in his seat. His eyes — groggy and dry — flapped wildly, stinging from the bright streams of sunlight that beamed through the curtains. "You slept here all night," a croaky voice chimed, forcing Tyler to pull himself out of his disoriented daze.
He stared forward, observing the study, now illuminated by the morning brightness. His jaw felt stiff from resting his head on the hard, wooden desk, and he was pretty sure his cheek had an imprint of the book binding he was lying on. Either way, Tyler felt incredibly sore— more than he's felt in a long time. In prison, he remembered cramming his tall frame in those stainless steel bunk beds, and he was so sure he'd never feel that uncomfortable ever again. Well, he was wrong.
"Mr. Mottola didn't want to disturb you," one of Tommy's bodyguards — with a name that Tyler still hadn't learnt — surveyed the room, making sure that every ornament, knick-knack and trinket was in the same place it was before.
"He forgot I was here, didn't he?" Tyler asked, his eyebrows wrinkled with grumpiness.
"Yep," the man simply replied, causing for Tyler's frown to sharpen. Pathetic, the male thought. If Tyler had the energy— he would've stomped over to Tommy and slapped him square across the face. Leaving him here to rot in his study? Letting him snooze here overnight, hunched over the desk like some animal? That man was cruel, through and through.
"Anyway, he's given you the day off, so time to leave," the bodyguard continued, much to the muted delight of Tyler Cain, who grimly slouched in the chair. With a husky grunt, he pushed himself to his feet, already feeling his joints waning at the movement — a clear indication of his rigid sleeping position last night.
"Lucky me," Tyler mumbled, rubbing his prickly jawline with vivid disdain.
Lucky him. What an ironic phrase. Tyler had to say, after last night's events, he had a little trouble believing in the term 'luck'. And yet here he was, several hours later, leaving the opulent Bedford estate without a dime to his name.
Tyler imagined this morning playing out very differently. He fantasied about this day. The day where Tyler Cain would finally be rich. No more hunting for scraps, no more manipulating, lying or thieving. No, from this day on, Tyler thought he'd be set for life. But how very wrong he was. And who was to blame? No one but himself.
