Ms. Vera, be my mummy

CHAPTER1 Caught up in the Media

　　"Archie," Alan drew out with a frown etched on his face. He ran his hands through his hair and pushed the door to Archie's room open, "What's going on about dresses?" He questioned.
　　He was about to dress up when the maid informed him Archie was causing mischief. "What?" He reiterated.
　　The little boy just goggled at him. He batted his lashes, his face morphed into a sober countenance and Alan sighed.
　　"This," Alan strolled to the wardrobe and pulled out a suit jacket with its trousers, "you're looking corporate today. Wear this and don't disturb the maid," he cautioned and Archie's face deepened into a scowl.
　　"Oh, what do you want then? You want to look like a rockstar?"
　　Archie nodded at once and Alan massaged his temples. Archie treasured looking that way. Alan sighed and carried his eyes to the wardrobe when he heard the knock.
　　"There's a call for you, sir," the maid at the other end spelt out and Alan hurried to the door.
　　"Yes?" He rested on the wall as he listened and at the end, he sighed, "The masses again? Fine, I'll be there now," he breathed out and turned to Archie.
　　"Dress him up in whatever he wants," he ordered the maid and walked out. Archie could be stubborn when he wanted but what could he do, Archie was his responsibility.
　　He released a deep breath when memories flashed in his head. Archie didn't deserve everything that had happened to him. He didn't deserve to be traumatized.
　　Archie became mute from an accident trauma. He was so shaken that he couldn't speak anymore. He was still a kid and shouldn't have gone through that.
　　But life wasn't always nice.
　　Alan rubbed his forehead and shook his skull. That wasn't a good recollection to begin a day with. And besides, he had a conference he was attending.
　　He had to speak to those reporters. They were interested in knowing about his next step!
　　Hurriedly, he slipped into his attire when he reached the room and walked out. Getting onto the lawn, he found his way into his Mercedes Maybach.
　　"The popular resorts," he mumbled to the driver and leaned into the car. As the driver drove through the rear mirror, Alan saw the bodyguards that were in the car behind him.
　　A smile etched on his lips at that. He needed bodyguards.
　　He was an important being. He owned the fastest-growing medical technological company popularly called "the winning leaders."
　　He was a popular and famous individual and he was being called by a group of reporters to tell them his next project which he hadn't figured out yet.
　　He had so much work on him already. After everything, he had to take care of Archie because Archie was his to take care of. He loved Archie. If it was needed, mountains would be moved by him for Archie.
　　He desired to hear Archie speak again. Archie had to. Alan didn't appreciate the idea of Archie using cards to convey his thoughts. It was saddened him.
　　The car halted putting a break into Alan's thought and at once, a guard rushed to open the door. "Sir," the guard bowed as Alan got down.
　　His eyes darted around the luxurious suite that emanated so much elegance and was adorned with lighting displays that gave it a warm glow. It was a journalism centre.
　　Chatter filled his ear and he whipped his head to the direction of the crowd when his eyes rested on the few masses that stood at the far end.
　　"Mr. Alan!" One of them yelled out and his face contorted. He disliked the masses perching around him.
　　"Lead the way," he ordered the guard and followed while the other guards went off to stop the crowd that was beginning to form.
　　He was an important human. He was loved despite his tough look. "So far?" He scoffed and ran his hands through his black raven hair as they took different hallways before they got into the elevator.
　　As much as he had been in the business for so long, he still wouldn't bring himself to love walking. For the 25 years he had been alive, he didn't love walking about. But for his business, he could do it.
　　They got out of the elevator and his eyes trailed on the decorations on the wall. Different artworks were on the wall and the design matched the lighting of the intricate ceilings above.
　　"Here, sir. This is the room the head of public relations pointed out," the guards told him and Alan nodded.
　　Pushing the door open, his shoulders raised as gasps echoed in his ear.
　　"You're here, Mr. Alan," the reporters and journalists around echoed and at once, lights began to flash in his eyes.
　　"Have a seat, Mr Alan," a woman who he knew was the main journalist, cooed and Alan settled down.
　　At once, questions began to repeat in his ear. "What're your next plans, Mr. Alan?" The first woman who was in her middle age asked and Alan shrugged.
　　"I love keeping the masses surprised."
　　"That's a good thing," a young lady with red hair chirped in, "How do you manage to be fast with your growth rate?"
　　Alan shut his eyes and rubbed on his forehead. "I believe every company should have their strategies and besides, of what use is it to the masses. Isn't it the masses' job to make use of the products we create?" He questioned and the lady nodded.
　　Minutes went by as he responded to their questions. They all threw compliments to him at intervals before his wristwatch beeped.
　　It was time to go. Too bad his secretary wasn't with him, "I have to leave," he stood up when one of the reporters stood.
　　"Hang on sir, is it true you have an illegitimate son with a secret wife?"
　　"He's not an illegitimate son," Alan retorted at once. His jaw clenched and the reporter's brows raised at his look. "He's my son!" Alan yelled out firmly.
　　How dare they call Archie illegitimate? Archie was his blood!
　　"There's no secret about it," he continued and scoffed, "he's the son of the Gales family! Snap out every thought that he's illegitimate!" At once he walked out of the door and his bodyguards accompanied him.
　　"It was nice having you with us," different yells filled his ears but he was out already.
　　His fist tightened and his face crumpled. Who gave them authority? How could they call the person he cherished illegitimate? The media was horrible. They only carried erroneous information.
　　That's one of the reasons he despised conferences!
　　"Sir," the guard pulled out his phone, "there's a call from your secretary," he said and Alan took the call.
　　"Sir?" The secretary's breathless voice filled the phone. "Archie… he's breaking things."
　　"What?" Alan yelled, "What happened to him?"
　　"Please come, sir," the man blabbered and Alan got into the car at once.
　　"Office," he spelt out to the driver as he sat. His fist dug into his nails and his shoulders tensed no matter how hard he tried. What was wrong with Archie?
　　Does it have something to do with his trauma? When last had he been with his psychologist?
　　Alan sighed. He didn't know. He had been busy.
　　The car pulled over at his office and he dashed out. Getting into the reception, his phone rang again, "Sir… he's breaking things. He's… he smashed your computer! Common stop it, Archie!" the man yelled at the other end and Alan figured out how tense he was.
　　"Archie!" Alan yelled over the phone and he heard the smashing stop. "Bring him downstairs!" He ordered as his eyes roamed around. The people in the reception took their eyes off him at once.
　　Soon, he heard footsteps and he turned around to meet the frown of the little boy that just gotten out of the elevator, "Archie!" Alan called and grabbed his hand.
　　"What did I say about smashing things?"
　　Archie pulled away with his face crumpled into a scowl before he bit his lips. His lips raised repeatedly and he grabbed his communicating card out. He raised his hands in the air repeatedly showing Alan the card and Alan grabbed it when had understood.
　　"Yes, I'm late," Alan scoffed and pulled him, "that doesn't mean smashing things, Archie," he shrieked and glanced around. "It doesn't mean you have to go around destroying my office," he cast his eyes back to Archie before he turned to the secretary.
　　"Get his psychologist!" He spelt out. "I said get the psychologist," he repeated when the man didn't move. "What's it, Damon?"
　　"Dr… Dr Kozak resigned some minutes ago." Damon dropped the bombshell and Alan's muscle stiffened before he brushed his hair backwards.
　　"Archie," he took his eyes to the four-year-old boy who only stared at him with a pout. "You are…" Alan shook his head when no words clicked.
　　Dealing with Archie was as tough and as simple as it was. Over the years, he managed to push every one of his psychologists to the point where they retired.
　　"Fine," he rolled his eyes and took deep breaths. "Let's go," Grabbing Archie's hand, he headed for the elevator before Damon spoke.
　　"Sir?"
　　"What's it?" Alan queried.
　　"The award-winning ceremony. It's time, sir," he said and Alan paused his steps.
　　Award-winning ceremony? How did he forget? It was why the press called for him. Because he was about to get one of the numerous awards once again. "Okay," he shrugged and cast his eyes to Archie who stared up at him like he did nothing.
　　Alan rubbed his forehead and sighed. His psychologist resigned. He had to take him along. Oh, heavens.
　　"Let's go," Alan huffed and Damon led the way at once. "You don't break things again, okay?" Alan cautioned as he walked alongside Archie, "No smashing things in my office, Daddy doesn't like it."
　　Archie rolled his eyes and averted his gaze from Alan and Alan scoffed. The boy got some nerves, "no reply, huh?" Alan lowered himself to Archie and grabbed his chin, "I said no breaking of things."
　　Once again, Archie tore his eyes away from him and Alan was forced to follow his gaze. When his eyes rested on the figure, his lips fell open.
　　The reporters! They were in the parking lot and rushing towards them!
　　"Mr. Alan! We heard you're getting another award."
　　"Can you tell us how you managed to do that!"
　　"Is that your son, Mr. Alan?"
　　"Various companies look up to you, How do you manage to keep us stunned?"
　　Different questions echoed in Alan's ear as he remained glued to the spot.
　　"Damon," Alan seethed as lights from cameras flashed in his eyes making his pupils dilate and constrict. The reporters were close! Heavens, they wouldn't let him go freely. "Get the car, Damon!"
　　"It's on the other side of the parking lot!" Damon voiced out and Alan's eyes widened. It'd be torture getting through the reporters.
　　"Call the guards over!" He screamed as he held Archie's hand tightly.
　　"Alright, sir," Damon nodded and hurriedly pulled out his phone. "Let's try to get away from them sir," Damon added and headed towards the gate of the parking lot and Alan trotted after him.
　　"The driver is outside," Damon muttered and Alan scoffed. Outside? That means he had to meet the driver outside to escape the crazy journalists and reporters.