This should've been a great day to

go out for fishing, but Catalina's stuck with

her tangled and chaotic office, trying to catch a different fish—or maybe she thought it's a damn shark—that she needed to free her grandfather from the nearing clutches of Death Penalty.

She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. For the past three weeks, all she got was an hour of rest. Her head was spinning but there's no time to stop for beauty rest nor a much longer sleep. She only has 30 days. 30 days before her grandfather's extinction. And for the past three weeks, not even the tail of the fish she could find.

Not to mention, she's already holding the RECEO, a private team much bigger and more capable than federal agents that manages private affairs and crimes by a specific person or anyone who requested and paid for their skills. Most of the time, they accept requests from well-known companies and powerful business tycoons. They are group of individuals with diverse backgrounds and skills, which is why whoever asks for their help must outlaid thousands of dollars, and Catalina already paid millions for them but it seems that this case is much harder than she can think of.

As she run her fingers through her nougat brown hair, her eyes caught something from her messed up table in which among all of the things bungled up was the only one that was still on it's right place, like where it should've always stands. It's a small picture frame of her grandfather, looking at her with a genuine smile on his lips, a smile so bright and sincere, as if the world was a much better place.

That isn't the smile of a murderer, she thought. She balled her fist as her mind drowned her back to the memories of her grandfather. Memories that she'd always thought was even brighter than her success, than her future. Until she found herself again on the day where she was able to feel the sensation of fear and darkness, the pain of her heart slowly breaking, and when as if she had felt the anguish of heaven.

Approximately three weeks ago...

Inside Casa Guiremo, a currently booming Italian restaurant, Catalina was having a small conference meeting with four other people. The two females sitting across her were members of the management team and beside her were her secretary and a new associate on the empire.

As usual, Catalina was quiet as her subordinates were speaking. She's far way younger than them but their respect for her was so evident. She's dressed in a perfectly tailored white bralette top under a cream wool blazer and cargo pants, combining demurely a little of her feminism and deep lavish look, and tucked under her feet was a pair of  Christian Louboutin heels, glimmering devilishly as she swayed her foot slightly back and forth. There's an aura hugging her. Something that whoever enters that door will instantly know she is someone who's in command of storms and hurricanes. She had that movie star look, not overly tall and willowy, but she looked more like an action star than a business woman.

She sat there with the confidence of someone a decade older, her elegant fingers running through the side of her face as she listens thoroughly with her chips of emerald eyes anchored to the one speaking in front of her.

"We might need to do the remaining designs as soon as possible." Jamie Walter, the current creative director, paused as she slowly reached for her cup of coffee.

"But we still have a couple of months before our due dates. Alora and some of our competitors circling in the beauty industry had already launched their new retails. But as I can see, they lack so much and still thriving." The new associate suddenly spoke, grabbing everyone's attention. "Here, I have a sales graph. This shows how well we are selling our products this year." She laid a couple of papers in the table showing everyone the graphs and some other related company issues. "This line is the sales of our products and this line is the sales of our competitors products. We are currently far higher than them. We even surpassed our estimated sales. There's no problem at all. We can first focus on the other franchise since cosmetics are already stabilizing on top of the pyramid, right?" She looked at each person on the table with glint of confidence in her face.

Everyone was silent; she couldn't name their reactions until she reached Catalina's eyes focused on her, dull and disinterested.

"I didn't know someone like you is sitting in this table with us." Catalina's flat and dispassionate voice prevailed in silence.

The woman was a little surprised and confused by Catalina's remark.

"About what you were saying earlier, do you think as the president, I didn't know all that?" Catalina continued, her eyes were cold and piercing, "The competitors are thriving, so as we. I absolutely know there's no problem at all. But the world of business is not as reassuring as knowing that evening will fall later and the sun will rise in the morning. We are here not just to envision but to take action on whatever unjustly things we are going to pull to stay at the top. This is not just how to be always at the top, but, also how to make them not just one step but ten steps behind us. If it is possible to make them stay far beneath the ground, we do it. Do you understand?"

A moment of silence before the new associate managed to respond in a low, hollowed voice. "Basically you're saying we are purposely dragging them down?"

"Exactly. We don't stay still." Catalina bluntly replied. "Beauty market is crowded and competitive. We compete to get the crowds, even to the extent of cutting the competitors hands and gradually pulling off their limbs."

The new associate only managed to blink when she realized she was actually clueless of what they were discussing, and a second later started apologizing. "I-I apologize—"

But Catalina cut her off. "Pieces of advice, if you're the junior member of a party, don't dominate the discussion, but try to make comments and just ask questions."

The new associate lowered her head in embarrassment, suddenly being sensitive of all the eyes looking at her.

An abrupt ringing sound from Catalina's phone saved them from the intense silence in their table. She reached for it, and as she heard what the call was about, she pushed herself off from the couch in one graceful move, leaving everyone from the table without even excusing herself and effortlessly walked towards the door. Behind her, the others return to their conversation.

"I warned you to do nothing but listen." Catalina's secretary snapped at the new associate beside her, in a voice so low, almost a whisper. "I know I haven't told you anything yet about how the company works, but I was planning to after this." The new associate stayed quiet, looking more devastated. "But I never forgot to warn you about Ms. Haytham. By just what I've told you about her, you should've understood the possibility of putting your *** on fire. Sure, you took her so lightly and tried to show off, huh?"

As Catalina reached the outside entrance of the restaurant, she'd stood beside a large Norfolk Island pine as she spoke to her phone.

"Where are you? Didn't you see the news?" A tensed voice of a man came from the other line.

"I have more important things to do than watching the news, Radford." Catalina replied, eyeing some people swarmed up and down the sidewalks. Mixed noise from cars and taxis was deafening, with scooters roaming along car rows and the amount of other vehicles that were illuminated in traffic lights, zooming by or creeping along.

Quite a busy street, yet, the warm and earthly ambiance of autumn somehow relaxes Catalina. This is the season of inner calm, the gold and red leaves that carpet the pavements, the gold and wet scarlet of autumn days, the bold and homely colours.

"Of course, you haven't seen, if you did, you must be running your *** straight to the Sanctuary by now." Radford snapped from the other line.

Catalina was a little confused. Her forehead furrowed. "You said earlier this was about my grandfather. What Sanctuary?" She paused, "Sanctuary Regional Prison?" There's uncertainty in her voice as she straightened with an unfocused gaze at her surroundings.

"Yeah, he was arrested just an hour ago... for the murder... of a ten-year-old boy, Cathy." Radford's voice was slow and unsteady, like his words were unwilling to take flight.

"W-What?" Radford had said it so clearly but the words Catalina had heard seemed cracking, mistakenly wrong. Words so unacceptable she needed to hear it again. "That's the dumbest joke I've ever heard, Radford." She cracked, and heard a deep, heavy sigh from the other line.

"Oh, I really wish it was just a joke, Cath."

Her brain stuttered for a moment. While her thoughts catch up, every part of her goes on pause. A sudden surge of running away from where she was standing right now and seeing her grandfather radiated rapidly to her, that her feet shifted automatically toward the seven steps stairs at the entrance, until she reached down the pavement.

"They might be interrogating him, right now." Radford added as Catalina goes silent. "I thought you already know, that's why I didn't call you right away after I heard the news. I just felt uneasy that's why I called, turned out you really didn't know. It's all over the news."

This thing was something Catalina would not easily believe. Something very impossible to happen. Her grandfather is the kind of man who couldn't even bare to look at a pig being slaughtered. It's ludicrous to even try to believe it, yet, she felt her body shaking, recoiling in shock. The breath of warm autumn and the feeling of nature flowing back and forth in the air suddenly vanished, the bright and warm street in front of her, as if in a blink of an eye, brutally plunged in darkness.

She tried to overcome the tingling sensation that lingered in her body and as her mind churned with unpleasant thoughts, someone abruptly passed by her side, bumping slightly her trembling, unsteady shoulder. Catalina dozed off at that moment, her legs folded gently and she subsided slowly on the ground, the black garden barricade was cold at her back. While she struggled to inhale, exhale and to adjust her vision, she tried to compose herself.

As the young man pushed forward on his skateboard, he glanced over his shoulder to see the woman he just happened to bumped with was already on the ground, hyperventilating. He instantly jammed his foot down the pavement to stop his board, and turned around in confusion as he studied what the hell had just happened to her.

One of his brows slightly arched while his deep, dark eyes stared at her, almost bewildered. He studied her with piercing scrutiny for a second until his senses kicked in.

Heart palpitation, a hurricane of sweat, muscle tension and trembling hands, abnormal blood flow, heavy, unbalanced breathing, volatile hearing and vision— all of that frantically strike before his pupil that traveled in increased velocity through his brain. Like a radar detecting the exact elements of human cells.

It wasn't me—he thought in relief—the reason why the woman suddenly fell on the ground. She's already on the verge of falling and losing control before he bumped into her, besides, no one so stupid will fall easily into such a weak impact.

Catalina on the other hand, tried to adjust her dwindling vision as she gazed at the fuzzy figure of a young man walking towards her. Then everything became a blur, until she could see nothing at all. Throughout the darkness her heartbeats pounded loudly, echoing in her ears, alongside, her brain was fighting helplessly. Senses in her body began to shut down until everything went black.

Catalina woke up with the smell of disinfectants lingered her nostrils. She laid their quietly for a moment, kept her eyes shut, while matching her breath to the beeping sound of a machine that she could hear. Her legs felt numb. After awhile, she tried to open her eyes; all she could see was the blurry corners of the room. She blinked, slowly, and with difficulty. When her vision adjusted, she first spotted the plasma screen on the wall, then the leather chairs and there was the soft sound of music. She scanned her gaze slowly around the room; beside her bed stood an IV attached to her, a heart monitor and oxygen tanks, she turned around and her gaze stopped at the gigantic window overseeing the view of the astonishing skyscrapers of San Francisco, almost reaching the orange clouds above.

She stared at it for a little longer until someone entered her room. She turned around to see her secretary with a tray of food on her hands.

"Raquel," Catalina called out. "Where's my car key?"

Raquel approached the table to put the tray before she dashed inside her bag to find Catalina's car key. "Here," she handed her the key, "But, you just woke up, Miss. I don't think it's good for you to leave, already. The doctor said you had experienced emotional distress or a sudden shock and fright that triggered severe anxiety. Your blood pressure dropped that caused to reduce the flow of oxygen to your vital organs, which was a life-threatening situation. You could've died out there, Miss."

Catalina pulled out the IV from her wrist, as if she seemed to hear nothing. "I'll tell you what's good for me," she shot her a cold, blank gaze. "It's to goddamn see my grandfather goddamn right now." She said firmly. Although she knew it's not, yet it's the best thing to do. Deep inside her, there's a part she knows that it won't actually do any good to her, which something vulnerable inside her might totally crack.

Raquel couldn't help but lowered her head and closed her mouth. Not in any way she can ever counter Catalina's menacing gaze. A look that will always remind her to recognize an ominous queen no one in their right mind would dare to defy, or she'll make you swallow a storm.

Raquel walked into the closet to get Catalina's clothes while Catalina reached for her phone and headed right to her social media accounts. She snorted in disbelief the instant her pictures greeted her everywhere in social media. It was that time she collapsed outside Casa Guiremo when she heard something unbelievable about her grandfather, when she was as cold as a corpse, when there's nothing but sheer darkness that embraced her, people were there, busy with their phones and cameras, capturing something that they thought would make the entire world better.

She read the headline on every photo, obviously, made by random and unprofessional people.

CATALINA HAYTHAM ON A PHOTOSHOOT FOR THE SEASON OUTSIDE CASA GUIREMO— THAT FABRIC OF AN OUFIT IS ASTOUNDINGLY BIZZARE!!

She skipped it to see for another one.

CATALINA OF E'VICO EMPIRE SUFFERING FROM AN ILLNESS—TOO MUCH MONEY CAN KILL?

She skipped it again;

THE BEAUTIFUL CATALINA HAYTHAM SUFFERED FOOD POISONING BECAUSE OF EATING TOO MUCH ITALLIAN FOODS!

So far, all she had read were trashes. What's new? People always itched to plot anything, may it be from the dumbest to the most brilliant idea on the planet, just to radiate the very epitome of todays society. It seemed already hardcoded in their DNA.

But, the next one made her stop.

FORMER SENATOR ABRAHAM AJAX HAYTHAM's ARREST OF MURDER STARTLED THE ENTIRE CALIFORNIA AND MADE A DISGRACE OUT OF HER GRANDDAUGHTER, CATALINA HAYTHAM, THE CURRENT PRESIDENT OF THE BOOMING BEAUTY EMPIRE IN THE WORLD.

Catalina tightly gripped her phone as she gritted her teeth. There's that feeling of nausea again that suddenly came over her. She stared at that headline for a couple of seconds until another picture caught her attention. There were two. This time, there was a guy in beige overcoat and denim pants, holding a skateboard and walking towards her. The second one was the guy's already carrying her. She looked for the headline and couldn't help but grimaced as she read it.

THE MOST ATTRACTIVE, YOUNG CEO OF E'VICO EMPIRE, CATALINA EVOLETTE HAYTHAM—PREGNANT? WHO'S THAT SUAVE GENTLEMAN?

"Tch. People and their pea-sized brain." She muttered and tossed her phone on the bed.

"There was actually some stranger who had helped you, you might've seen a lot of pictures scattering at the media right now. But we haven't touched anything to cover since it isn't that as scandalous as it could be." Raquel was already standing beside her bed holding her clothes.

Catalina was quiet for a moment, couldn't care much about what her secretary had told her or what intricacies were happening at the media. "Have you," She said instead, hesitant, as if afraid to go on. "Have you watched the news about him? About my grandfather?"

As if for a split second, Raquel witnessed how her boss's hard, ever cold eyes actually turned moist. She then  suddenly felt the need to lower her eyes and nodded slightly.

"What's the name of the kid?" Catalina asked.

"Avir Comte. He is actually the son of one of your grandfather's housemaids." Raquel saw recognition from Catalina's eyes. "The kid's mother was the one who called the police as she was the only witness at the crime. According to the police the crime was performed at the kitchen of Sir Abraham's residence yesterday around 11 P.M."

Catalina scoffed as dissatisfaction plowed her brows. "Why the hell would my grandfather kill a mere servant's child?"

"According to the witness she couldn't think of any reason why would Sir Abraham do that to her son, but the police found some weird powdered drugs at Sir Abraham's personal vault. He was put into drug test and he turned out positive, it seems also that he's on drugs for a long time now."

Drugs? He will never use drugs. I was with him for so long now and he's definitely not capable of using such illegal thing, Catalina thought firmly. She stood up and grabbed her clothes. "I'll head to the Sanctuary while you go back to the company and report to me as soon as I get back." She commanded.

"I'll send some of your bodyguards—"

"Sure. In case I knock out again." Catalina replied goofily as she walked away.

•

As Catalina had arrived at the Sanctuary Regional Prison, she was led into the visitation area. She sat at one of the small booths and waited timidly for her grandfather to come out from the other side of the glass partition.

As she waited, she couldn't help to notice the place. The plain and simple color of the area looked horrific to her. There's this smell that she couldn't quite name, an atmosphere as suffocating as being inside a box with no holes at all, a wretched feeling of something she couldn't construe, and the thought of her grandfather staying in a place like this made her mind reeled in hardcore.

Moments later, her attention shifted at the glass, where her grandfather stood at the other side, chained both hands to waist down to his ankle, wearing the bright orange uniform that indicated him as an inmate.

A knife was twisted at Catalina's heart at the sight of her beloved grandfather. Every ace of courage and strength she had built upon her way in here, for this moment, had all tumbled down in one solid blow.

Her grandfather sat in front of her. She studied him like she hadn't seen him for a long time. She noticed a small cut at the side of his lips, but she didn't comment on that, besides, he still looked as polished as ever, with his fringed gray-white hair tidy and elegant, and the air of being a prominent man was still recognizable to him.

He slowly reached for the telephone that was attached beside the booth so did Catalina on the other side.

"È bello vederti, mia Catalina. (It's nice to see you, my Catalina.)" Her grandfather held the telephone with both of his chained hands, and it took everything in her not to tear out with his greeting. Behind the shatter-proof glass, he's smiling at her. A smile that could as if bring him instantly out of this prison, his usual vibrant and comforting smile that almost suppress the hidden sadness that sits an inch bellow his face.

Catalina moved nothing but her eyes, searching the depths of her grandfather's.

Her grandfather's smile faded, he lowered his head and stayed silent for almost a minute.

"I didn't do it." He finally croaked.

The tension that had kept swirling into Catalina suddenly melted as she had heard the words she'd been edging to hear.

"I didn't kill that poor kid, Cathy." His voice became hollowed, almost broken.

The purity in his voice and the transparent drop of fluid that gleamed in his eyes made another knife struck Catalina's heart, this time, much deeper and unbelievably painful.

His eyes desperately searched Catalina's eyes, somehow, looking for a little light of hope.

"I know," Catalina answered after awhile.

Her grandfather's expression instantly soothed. It's as if he was relieved from a suffering. He wanted to say something but chose not to, seemed contented of the silence hovering at the air.

"What about the drugs?" Catalina asked.

He looked a little surprised but he seemed expecting it from her. "Well," he replied. "Maybe that's the part where I'll understand if you might not honestly believe me." He smiled a little, amused and annoyed. "I couldn't pinpoint where this is all coming from or why the hell did this happen? Swear to God I didn't know. It doesn't made sense. All of this happened so fast, even faster than God on a skateboard." He chuckled. But he was surprised when Catalina suddenly stood up. He gazed at her, wondering.

"I heard enough," she said. Her eyes were fierce as bullets. "Enough to pull some trigger or might as well harness a blade. I'll prove your innocence and I'll pull you out of this dump, suffocating jungle."

"Catalina, what are you planning to do? You might put yourself in danger." Her grandfather said worriedly.

Catalina gave her a half-smile, "I'll just join God ride his skateboard."

As Raquel entered Catalina's office, the dim and quiet atmosphere welcomed her. The aroma of scented candles and the mixed lustrous scent of espresso creeped her nose. The vintage wall sconces—the skull and head—that hung on the mute colored wall created disturbing, wraithlike shadows on the floor. Thick velvet curtains hid the long windows across the walls, leaving only a shy peak of the almost scarlet sky beyond. The paintings and tapestries of Leonardo da Vinci on the other side of the wall seemed to blink at Raquel as she walked inside.

"Miss Haytham," Raquel called out in a modulated voice.

Catalina glanced up to her, and despite the dimly lit room, the weariness in her rich beryl-green eyes were so vivid. "You have anything?" she asked and shifted back her attention to her computer screen.

Raquel slightly hesitated, "Still nothing from the RECEO,"

"Next time you step inside my office make sure you have something gratifying for me." Catalina demanded, not looking at her.

Raquel cleared her throat apologetically before she responded. "But Sir Abraham's attorney wants to speak with you."

Catalina paused at the mention of that.

"He's waiting right now at your usual spot, at the Late Halberd across the street." Raquel added.

When Catalina nodded, Raquel excused herself. Catalina rose up from her chair, grabbed her bag, walked across the room, and headed straight to the private elevator inside her office. As she arrived at the lobby of E'vico Empire, people were a little surprised at the sight of her. It's been a week since she got out of her office, since she suffocated herself at the sanctuary of darkness that loomed inside it.

As she stepped outside the solace of her empire, she was wrapped up by the symphonic sound of horns honking, people chattering, and footsteps hitting the pavement. The tall buildings, number of trees moving in whirlwind, crowds of people, and billboard signs encompasses her sight. The air started to get chilly as night began to fall.

Catalina joined the crowd of people crossed over the pedestrian lane, while a bodyguard was already trailing behind her, blending in with the flock of people as if one with the crowd of strangers.  She reached the outside of the Late Halberd where an immense bulky tree stood in front. Its branches protruded like vines up towards the sky and brushed the nearby buildings.

The walls outside the old-looking bistro were a kaleidoscope of colors, elaborated with flowers, vines, butterflies, rainbow, sunlight, and other symbols from nature. This isn't some high-end type of bistro with thousand-dollar worth of menu or some elegant and fancy abracadabras, but  Catalina was always engrossed at anything with the whirls of colors and designs as it utterly bring tranquility to her.

Her bodyguard stayed outside the bistro and as she opened the dull, silver aluminum door, it released a creaking sound like the hinges of a rusty iron gate. As usual, only a few numbers of people were inside, one of the reasons that conserved the serenity of the place.

She marched straightway to the bar counter where a man in navy blue suit sat prominently at one of the stools.

"Mr. Malthus," Catalina called out as she sat at the other stool beside him.

"Hmm, miss Haytham." Mr. Malthus quickly put down his glass of cranberry juice and extended his hand for a shake.

"I hope you got something good to hear for me this time, Mr. Malthus." Catalina said as she took the Attorney's hand.

Mr. Malthus pursed his lips and made a little clicking sound. "Actually," he heaved a sigh as he shrugged. "This may sound ridiculous but it seems that we're just falling on a pit hole, Catalina. A long, dark, and unending hole with no ground at all. I'm pissed, at the same time, impressed to whoever is behind this. I'm almost at the point of thinking that we're actually chasing a ghost, Ms. Haytham."

Catalina didn't respond for a moment.

"In short, you're saying that there's no point of fighting at all? That I should let go of the fishing rod because it's not actually a fish nor a shark, but a ghost." She paused, and then leaned forward to glare at him, "Then maybe I need a defense attorney who can actually see ghosts."

Mr. Malthus let out another deep breath as he slightly shook his head.

"You know, Mr. Malthus, it's too damn early of a day to give up the hunt." Catalina put down her bag on top of the counter. The LED lights behind every hue of amber liquids that run along the walls in their inverted bottles illuminated her actually made of Niloticus crocodile bag, its subtle hue flashed in blue and green colors and underneath her neckline were spirals of neon pink, blue, and green that came from the neon sign décor above the wall that says, Late Halberd.

"Ghosts or whatever evil spirits they turned out to be, I'll hunt them down. If I must turn the whole United States of America upside-down just to find whoever that son of a bitch behind this, I'll do it. So don't ask for another abrupt meeting like this just to talk about the impossibility. You're a lawyer, isn't it supposed to be your job?

Catalina's aware of the difficulty of this whole messed up thing. But it's not possible for her to give up her grandfather without even putting up a more aggressive fight.

"Everything was so clean." Mr. Malthus muttered as he let out a sigh. "Frauds or criminals, even how skilled and experienced they are; they make mistakes. But at this case, no matter what we do or where we look, not even a teeny-tiny bit of fault can be spotted." He tried to relax at the counter. "I don't think we're dealing with some petty criminals out there."

"I don't think so, too." Answered Catalina. "That's why I asked for the RECEO, right? And the fact that they also got nothing is already alarming."

"What I'm really confused about was how those drugs were put inside your grandfather's safe without being noticed by the other housekeepers and the security. There was also an alarm that could notify your grandfather if someone attempts to invade his vault. Why didn't it work?" Mr. Malthus suddenly talked about the crime. "The case couldn't be thwarted easily because there was a witness, worst is it's the mother of the victim. Your grandfather's testaments were all nothing but that he's innocent. He doesn't know about the drugs. He doesn't even know how it went inside his body. But according to you and the other housemaids inside his manor, he was always and completely sober. Not even a hint that he's actually using drugs. But, then poof—he just turned out positive in a drug test. The court wouldn't just believe it's framed." He reached for his glass and made a sip. "30 days left and we still got nothing. Not even a single tiny evidence. It's very unusual for me and for the RECEO."

"Isn't it why I’m asking you to—"

Catalina was cut off when someone unexpectedly disrupted their conversation. Suddenly, somebody had put something above the counter right between them. "Excuse me?" Catalina snorted at a guy in college uniform that stood before them. One of his hands was clasped at the only strap of his knapsack that hung over his right shoulder. The stranger looked a little bit familiar to Catalina but she just couldn't pinpoint. A faint, pleasant smell of men's perfume hovered in the air around him. His hair was as dark as his monotonic eyes that compromised his harsher and fiercer features. He's tall and has a well-built body figure. There were even telltale signs of muscles hidden under his white uniform. He's quite the kind whom every woman would meet before finding the right one, like the guy who never had trouble finding a date, an actual carbon copy of Francisco Lachowski, a face every woman would die for.