Olivia Sparks

"Good afternoon, Ms. Mimi. Sir Tristan's three o'clock guest is on the way up to his office," the receptionist informed Mimi as soon as the latter answered the call and the piece of information jolted Mimi up from her seat. 

She knew how important this guest was, especially after how Tristan had to clear his afternoon schedule to accommodate the person. 

Checking herself in the small desk mirror, she puffed out a shaky breath before standing up to inform her boss.

She could give Tristan a heads up through the intercom, yet she felt like she needed to shake off her nervousness by walking a few steps to her boss's office. 

Ironing her pencil skirt with her palms, she straightened her back and rapped on the door before opening it.

"Mr. Yang," Mimi trailed off but immediately clamped her mouth upon noticing Tristan was amidst a phone call. 

She stood silent and motionless by the threshold and waited until Tristan would finish his phone call.

She shouldn't eavesdrop, but the way Tristan spoke in soft and hushed tones piqued her interest. 

And whenever she caught him in that light, a stark contrast to his loud and playful image, Mimi couldn't help but wonder what Tristan could be speaking with either of those three women.

As if she wasn't in deep thought seconds ago, Mimi pushed the door wide open after hearing the scuffle of shoes against the carpeted floor. 

Raised as a gentleman, all thanks to his mom, Tristan held the door and gestured for Mimi to walk ahead first. 

The two conversed as they walked down the hall and waited by the elevators for their guest.

"Oh, do we have sencha tea?" Tristan asked. "I heard he only drinks that kind of tea." To Tristan's surprise, he heard a mocking sound escape his secretary's lips.

Mimi snorted, covering her nose with the back of her index finger. "I prepared a different one. You see, I stalked his secretary's favorite lunch place, and we instantly became besties. She told me, her boss actually prefers genmaicha." Mimi winked.

Tristan's mouth hung open in shock. But he asked almost everyone he knew, and they all recommended the same thing: sencha tea. He couldn't believe how people were deceived with this tiny detail for years.

Tristan gathered his bearings, straightening his back when the elevator dinged. Flashing his pearly whites, he welcomed his guest with a handshake.

"Look how you've grown, Tristan!"

"Mr. Ma, nice to see you too."

"Come on. You can call me Uncle Connor." Connor Ma was all smiles, giving Tristan a pat on the back whilst their hands shook.

"Ha! Okay, Uncle," Tristan responded with a smile of his own to hide his discomfort. 

He tried to speak some more but he didn't want to mumble awkward things that might offend his guest so he just smiled and was silent on their way back to his office. 

Less talk, less mistakes. Tristan thought it would be to his benefit to let Connor Ma do the talking for now. 

Something about Connor Ma's smile was sinister and he couldn't place a finger on which part made him feel that way. 

Was it Connor Ma's smile or his presence all together that was unnerving Tristan? 

Tristan met countless people with so much power in their hands—royals, dictators, capo crimini, you name it. Yet none of those exude dark and spine-chilling aura as Connor Ma did. 

It puzzled Tristan how a man like Connor Ma could hold so much power and wealth yet go unnoticed by the world—his name rarely seen or heard of in the news.

Reaching his office, the two gentlemen unbuttoned their suit jackets and sat on the couch in the center of the room.

"Thank you for accepting my invitation, Uncle," Tristan spoke smoothly, perfectly masking his nervousness. 

While Tristan should be the one to visit Connor Ma's office since he's the one who needed a favor, the latter suggested paying him a visit instead since he would be meeting other shareholders in the building that day.

"I had a feeling I'll be meeting you soon after I heard about your sister's wedding to Maxen. So, let's make this conversation quick. What do you need, Tristan? And what would I get in return? Besides handling my account, of course, which we both know is not the reason why I'm here today."

Tristan felt his stomach knot. He had a rough idea of how brutal Connor Ma was, holding into account his grandfather's words, but he didn't expect the magnate to dive right into the matter. Especially since they haven't even heated the leather seats with their bums yet.

Thankfully, Mimi stepped inside holding a tray in her hands. It gave Tristan enough time to breathe and school his train of thought.

The room was silent as Mimi did the ritual of serving tea, and Tristan found solace in the hypnotic steady white steam oozing out of earthen kyusu.

After setting up the tea for Tristan and Connor Ma, Mimi excused herself and left the two in the privacy of Tristan's office.

"Please enjoy your tea, Uncle. I spent a month in Takayama and my homestay hosts often served me this kind of tea. I guess the taste and aroma grew on me, it's the only tea we have in my office," Tristan lied through his teeth, yet he sounded convincing.

While it was true that he stayed in Japan years ago, they never served him genmaicha; however, he felt as if it would be the best lie to get into Connor Ma's graces.

"Lovely story," Connor Ma smiled and picked up his teacup, rotating it three times. 

A smile ghosted Connor Ma's lips when the rich roasted rice aroma assaulted his nose. 

The truth was, Connor Ma never liked genmaicha, it was the person who accidentally served it to him years ago which made the tea special.

It was everytime he drank his tea that he would be reminded of that distant memory. And it was only when he got a whiff of roasted rice and green tea that a face he would never forget would come back to life, reminding him of a time the great Connor Ma became human.

When the vision of a lady standing underneath the shower of falling sakura petals faded, Connor Ma placed the teacup back on the table after he had his fill.

He smiled at Tristan and crossed his leg, scrutinizing the young fellow in front of him.

Connor Ma knew why Tristan needed him, and knowing the boy's background and upbringing, he came to the meeting ready to accept whatever Tristan demanded in exchange for his small favor.

He had an inkling Tristan was desperate. The latter wouldn't dare summon the likes of Connor Ma and struck a deal with the devil if he didn't need a lifeline.

"Tell me, Tristan. How much sacrifice could you make for the woman you love?"

"My life for her life, Uncle."

Hearing Tristan's response, Connor Ma fished a thrice folded paper from his inside pocket. 

"Your life for her life it is."

After reading the terms on Connor Ma's one page contract, Tristan didn't hesitate to sign his name on the dotted line.

The two exchanged handshakes and were out in Tristan's office in the nick of time.

"I'll put in a word for your wife. I can't promise a drastic change though, and you know that as well, but rest assured that my reputation precedes me, and nobody would dare contradict my words."

"I wouldn't sign that death certificate if I'm not well aware of that, Uncle." Tristan smiled at Connor Ma, gesturing for the man to step inside the elevator car first.

The two men, together with their respective secretaries, then went down to the tenth floor where the shareholder's meeting would take place.

Double steel doors opened, and they were welcomed by a lady in her stripe shirt and orange chino pants. 

Her hair was tied in a low ponytail, sitting comfortably on top of her nape.

Tristan's eyes didn't bother to look at the lady's face for he could feel her animosity thousands of miles away.