Her Story

They had spent a week on their yacht, touring the eastern coast, and the family of three was now on their way home. The weather had been on their side, and they'd had the most fun together.

However…

"Mr. Gilen, Mr. Gilen, how can you afford to go on holiday when your company is in such a state?"

"How do you respond to the call for your resignation?"

"Your board is not happy about this; they might soon join the calls for your dismissal. How do you plan to remedy the situation?"

… the relaxation did not last long.

As an influential man leading a colossal company, Veronica's father rarely went on holiday. For one, he really did not have the time to spare, and when he did find the time, he was hounded by the press.

Fortunately, he wasn't a fool; he knew how to evaded the human scum that is the paparazzi.

After mooring their yacht at the dock of their costal residence, the family had gotten into a comfortable town car to drive back to the city. The distance from the east coast to their city wasn't something that could be covered in less than a day, so naturally, they were staying in hotels.

This was how the paparazzi caught onto them. Reporters would often keep watch at expensive hotels, just waiting for the next celebrity or influential figure to harass.

Following their hectic entrance to the hotel, the rest of their evening was rather pleasant. They shared a large, scrumptious meal before Veronica was sent to bed. Then her parents sat around in the bar with their driver, chatting the night away.

…

The next morning, Mr. Gilen settled their tab as he brought up a somewhat unconventional request.

He and his wife had an old friend in the city whom they wanted to visit. He asked that someone from the hotel drive their car away to distract the paparazzi. The car had tinted windows, so they wouldn't know there was no one in it. Meanwhile, their driver would drive them to visit their friend in a rental.

As expected of a five-star hotel, they agreed immediately, even organizing the rental on the Gilens' behalf.

…

"Frank, are you doing okay? You're not looking your best."

"M—Mr. Gilen! N—no problem, sir." He popped a pill into his mouth, then said, "It's just a slight headache, nothing serious."

He gave an unease smile.

Frank hadn't been their driver for long, but he was a nice enough guy, seemed responsible too.

"Well, if that's all it is, then fine. By the way, do you remember your instructions for today? I really don't want to deal with those reporters."

"Not to worry, sir. My instructions have been read and committed to memory; there won't be any mistakes.

"Oh, sir, will the young miss be joining us?"

Mr. Gilen shook his head. "No, my wife has left her with the hotel daycare for now; she'll probably enjoy it more here than she would if she comes with us."