"Daisy! Where are you?" called Emily, wandering through the
servant's quarters of the Clarke estate.
"Something the
matter, mistress Emily?" asked Michael Eddington, Daisy's
father.
"Where is that
dumb bimbo? I need her to do my chores!" snapped Emily.
"She is at
young master Aaron's house," said Michael.
Emily's face flushed
with anger. "Again? I told that dumb bitch to never see that
trash again!" she shouted.
"She is my
daughter, mistress Emily. I won't have you calling her names like
that," said Michael firmly.
Emily's face flushed
with rage. "Did you just backtalk me you limey butler?" she
shrieked.
She whipped out her
phone and dialed her mother's number. "Mom, your butler here
just insulted and cornered me! Help me!" she screamed into the
phone.
Color drained from
Michael's face. He slowly backed away from Emily, who was now hitting
herself to induce tears.
"What's going
on here?" demanded Sarah Clarke, entering the servant's
quarters.
"Mommy! Michael
insulted me and cornered me!" wailed Emily, throwing herself
into her mother's arms.
"Is that so?"
said Sarah, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Michael.
"Absolutely not
mistress Clarke. I was merely informing mistress Emily that Daisy is
not at home yet." quavered Michael.
"Are you
calling my daughter a liar Eddington?" asked Sarah, pulling out
a pair of brass knuckles from her pantsuit pocket.
"No, of course
not mistress Clarke," said Michael, backing away from Sarah.
"Then why did
you corner her and insult her?" demanded Sarah, advancing on
Michael.
"This is a
misunderstanding, I assure you mistress Clarke," said Michael,
now the one backed into a corner.
"Michael
Eddington, you made my Emily cry, and that makes me very angry.
You're lucky that I still have a soft spot for your wife." said
Sarah, before she punched Michael in the stomach, sending him
sprawling to the floor.
"Know your
place, Eddington." said Sarah, spitting on Michael's prone form,
before she turned to Emily.
"Come along
Emily, tell me everything that happened," she said, leading
Emily out of the servant's quarters.
----
"I see, so
Daisy has been staying over at this Aaron Zakhrov's house for the
past few days?" said Sarah Clarke, sitting in her office.
"Yes, mommy, I
want her back! And she's been keeping a new uniform there, the
ungrateful bimbo!" whined Emily.
"The name
sounds familiar. Where have I heard it before?" mused Sarah,
tapping her fingers on the desk.
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
"He's the one
who bullied Viola Davis and got her expelled! I've planted rumors at
school that he's a member of the Russian mob." said Emily.
"That's right!
I remember now. You've been trying to get dirt on him for me, such a
good girl," said Sarah, patting Emily's head.
"Thank you
mommy," said Emily, her face lighting up.
"Well, now
don't worry. Mommy will take care of everything," said Sarah,
pressing a button on her desk intercom.
"Send anonymous
tips that one Ivan Zakhrov is involved in falsifying tax records on
behalf of Russian organized crime syndicates to the IRS, and to Child
Protective Services that he is holding a minor, one Daisy Eddington
against her will." she spoke into the intercom, then switched
the line.
"Natasha, I
have a job for you. I want you to shadow one Aaron Zakhrov, a student
at St. Ignatius Academy. Find out everything you can about him."
she clicked off the intercom and leaned back in her chair.
"Now off you
go, Emily. Mommy has work to do," she said, shooing Emily out of
her office.
----
"All right,
Daisy. First feel the response of the gas pedal, and listen to the
engine. This car has got some serious power under the hood, so be
careful," said Ivan, as he sat in the passenger seat of the BMW
M5.
Daisy nodded, her
hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. She put pressure on the
gas pedal, and the BMW M5 let out a powerful rumble.
"Good, now ease
off the gas, click it into drive, and slowly ease off the brake,"
instructed Ivan.
Daisy did as
instructed, and the BMW M5 rolled forward smoothly.
"Great going!
Now keep this up for one lap around the block," said Ivan, as
Daisy drove slowly around the block.
"Aaron makes
this look so damn easy," muttered Daisy, as she carefully
navigated the car around the corners.
"Don't worry,
you'll get the hang of it. Just remember to keep your eyes on the
road and not on the speedometer," said Ivan, as Daisy completed
her first lap.
"Now, let's try
a little faster. Put your foot down a bit more, but don't floor it,"
said Ivan, as Daisy nodded and pressed the gas pedal a little harder.
The BMW M5 gave a
satisfying growl as it picked up speed, and Daisy felt a thrill of
excitement.
"That's it!
Nice and steady," said Ivan, as Daisy made another lap around
the block, this time a little faster.
She was about to go
for a third, when the loud chirp of a police siren startled her.
"Relax, just
pull over to the side of the road," said Ivan calmly.
Daisy pulled over,
rolled down the window and kept her hands on the wheel, her fingers
trembling as two police officers approached the car.
"Are you Daisy
Eddington?" asked the policewoman, looking at Daisy through the
window.
"Y-yes
officer," stammered Daisy, her heart racing.
"I'm from Child
Protective Services. Both of you step out of the vehicle please,"
said the policewoman, her voice firm.
"Is there a
problem officer?" asked Ivan, stepping out of the car.
"You're Ivan
Zakhrov?" asked the policewoman's partner, a big burly man with
a deep rumble of a voice.
"Yes, I am.
What is the problem officer?" asked Ivan again.
"We received a
tip that you are holding a minor against her will, license and
registration please." said the policeman, a hand on his sidearm.
"Here you go,
officer," said Ivan, handing over his license and registration,
along with the letter signed by Michael authorizing Ivan to take care
of Daisy.
"Daisy, you can
tell me if you're being held against your will," said the
policewoman, her voice softening.
"No, officer.
Mr. Zakhrov is my friend's father. He's just teaching me how to
drive, I have permission from my parents to stay at his house over
the winter break," said Daisy.
"Can you call
your parents so we can verify that?" asked the policewoman.
"Yes, of
course," said Daisy, pulling out her phone and dialing her
father's number.
"Hello, this is
Michael Eddington," said Daisy's father on the other end of the
line.
"Hello Mr.
Eddington, this is Officer Johnson from Child Protective Services. We
have your daughter Daisy here with Mr. Zakhrov, and we need to verify
that she is indeed allowed to stay with him," said the
policewoman.
"Yes, she is. I
signed a letter authorizing Mr. Zakhrov to take care of her during
the winter break," said Michael.
"Thank you, Mr.
Eddington. We'll be on our way now," said Officer Johnson,
hanging up the phone.
"All right, Mr.
Zakhrov, you're free to go. I don't know who you managed to piss off,
so please be careful," she said, handing back Ivan's license and
registration.
"Thank you,
officer," said Ivan, as he and Daisy got back into the BMW M5.
His phone buzzed,
and he clicked the answer call button.
"Ivan! Where
the hell are you? The IRS is here, and they're tearing the place
apart!" shouted Annette's panicked voice through the phone.
"I'm on my way
home, Annette," said Ivan, starting the car and pulling back
onto the road.
