LOGINLove is the most complex feeling ever. It gives you joy like you've never had before; it brings you pain like you've never felt before. We follow the tale of a young Cameroonian girl who's world gets intercepted and turned upside down by an Italian foreigner with deep, dark and dangerous secrets. Jasmine "Loving you is so hard it feels like I'm BREAKING LOCKS." Marcelo "But even the most screwed locks still break open, don't they?"
View More“Jangan bohong! Semua bukti sudah jelas, dan kamu masih berusaha mengelak?” ucap pria paruh baya itu. “Atau kamu menuduh saya asal bicara!?”
Irene menunduk, tidak berani menatap bosnya yang sedang berdiri di hadapan. Matanya berkaca-kaca karena dimarahi seperti itu. Setelah makan siang tadi, tiba-tiba Irene dipanggil oleh atasannya tersebut dan dituduh merugikan perusahaan karena menyetujui harga penjualan produk yang tidak standar. Padahal Irene tidak pernah melakukannya! Namun, bosnya menyodorkan bukti bahwa memang sistem di komputer Irene lah yang mengonfirmasi hal tersebut, membuat perusahaan menanggung kerugian hingga nyaris satu miliar. “Kamu dipecat!” Bos Irene berucap kembali dengan nada keras. “HRD akan bantu buat hitung nominal ganti rugi yang harus kamu bayar.” Sepasang mata Irene membeliak tidak percaya. Sontak ia mengangkat wajahnya dan menatap sang atasan. “T-tapi, Pak. Bukan saya–” Brak! “Cukup, Irene!” raung sang CEO semakin keras, kali ini sembari menghantam meja, mengejutkan Irene. “Silakan kamu angkat kaki dari sini. Saya tidak mau dengar apapun darimu lagi.” “Pak–” “Keluar!” Pada akhirnya, Irene gagal untuk membela dirinya. Selain itu, Irene juga tidak punya bukti yang kuat, serta tidak ada yang mau bersaksi untuknya. Padahal, saat kejadian itu, jelas-jelas semua anggota timnya melihat sendiri kalau Irene dipanggil untuk rapat dan tidak ada di meja kerja. Namun, seakan mereka memang sengaja bekerja sama untuk menendangnya dari sana. Irene kembali ke mejanya, merasa linglung. Mungkin ia tidak akan sepusing ini jika ia hanya dipecat saja. Namun … satu miliar itu? Bagaimana Irene bisa membayar ganti rugi itu? “Irene, kamu baik-baik saja?” Netra Irene menatap Bu Aimee, sang kepala sekretaris—wanita paruh baya berkulit putih yang biasa duduk di belakangnya itu. Pikirannya berkecamuk. Haruskah ia mengkonfrontasi wanita itu dan mencari tahu apa yang sebenarnya terjadi di balik pemecatannya ini atau diam saja. Kenapa seakan-akan semua menggiringnya untuk pergi dari sini? Pada akhirnya, Irene berucap, “Bu Aimee, kenapa Ibu bersaksi palsu? Ibu kan jelas-jelas tahu kalau saya dipangil rapat saat kejadian.” Bu Aimee tampak bersalah. “Maaf, Ir. Saya–” “Aduh, Mbak, kenapa jadi menyalahkan Bu Aimee? Harusnya Mbak itu justru minta maaf!” Tiba-tiba, salah seorang rekan kerjanya menyela obrolan Irene dan langsung mengomel dengan suara nyaring, memancing perhatian seluruh orang yang ada di lantai tersebut. “Jangan tidak tahu diri begitu. Saya jadi nggak respek lagi sama Mbak.” Langsung saja, terdengar kasak-kusuk di lantai tersebut. “Oh, itu orangnya? Si Irene?” “Gila, nggak tahu malu banget. Mau nyalahin orang lain.” “Orangnya kayak nggak becus kerja begitu.” Irene memejamkan matanya, menahan rasa sakit hati dan air mata yang mengancam akan keluar. Ia tidak menyadari, orang yang tadi menyela obrolannya tengah tersenyum sinis diam-diam. “Aku dengar Mbak sudah diberhentikan. Kalau begitu, terima saja! Jangan menyeret orang yang tidak bersalah begitu.” *** “Kasus ini ditutup tanpa investigasi lebih lanjut.” Ucapan HRD itu terngiang di kepala Irene dalam perjalanannya pulang ke rumah. Sejak awal, masalahnya di kantor ini sudah aneh, apalagi dengan penyelesaian seperti ini. Ada banyak kecurigaan yang ada dalam diri Irene, tapi semuanya kalah oleh tuntutan 1 miliar untuk menutup kerugian perusahaan yang dibebankan padanya. Irene bisa merasakan aura dingin menjalar dari tengkuk leher dan menyebar ke punggungnya. “Satu miliar? Uang dari mana?” gumam Irene lemah. “Dan … harus kubayar akhir bulan ini?” Manik mata Irene kini dilapisi cairan bening yang berkumpul semakin banyak di pelupuknya. Ia kembali memejamkan mata, membuat sebagian cairan tadi jatuh menelusur pipinya. “Sakit jiwa!” gerutunya. Ia mencoba menenangkan diri sebelum sampai di rumah. “Mungkin aku harus jual mobil,” pikir gadis itu kemudian. “Seenggaknya, aku masih punya rumah dan mobil. Mungkin aku harus jual tanah warisan dari Mama Papa juga.” Irene mengangguk, seolah setuju dengan keputusannya, sekalipun dengan terpaksa. Rumah yang dihuni sekarang pun merupakan warisan berharga peninggalan kedua orang tuanya yang meninggal karena kecelakaan pesawat terbang saat ia berusia 18 tahun. Ia tinggal di sana dengan tunangannya, pria yang sedang merencanakan pernikahan bersamanya dalam waktu dekat. “Yah, sepertinya pernikahan harus diundur,” gumam Irene. “Namun, Jeremy pasti mengerti kalau–” Ucapan Irene terhenti. Sepasang matanya terbelalak saat melihat barang-barang Irene ada di halaman luar rumahnya. Buru-buru gadis itu menghampiri rumahnya. “Apa-apaan ini!?” teriaknya. “Apa yang kalian lakukan di rumah saya!?” Teriakan Irene yang terdengar marah memancing perhatian para pekerja dan seorang pria paruh baya yang ada di sana. “Heh! Siapa yang mengizinkan gadis ini masuk?” bentak pria paruh baya tersebut. “Seret dia keluar!” “Bapak siapa?” balas Irene. Bingung, sedih, dan marah bercampur jadi satu. “Ini rumah saya!” “Halah, ngaku-ngaku!” sergah pria asing tersebut. “Rumah ini sudah saya beli dari pemiliknya, Pak Jeremy!” Apa? Kaki Irene lemas hingga ia terduduk di lantai. Tunangannya sendiri menjual rumah Irene? “Kalau kamu ada masalah, ya hubungi saja Pak Jeremy. Jangan buat ribut di rumah baru saya!” Seakan tidak punya rasa belas kasih, pria paruh baya itu memerintahkan pada para pekerjanya untuk menyeret Irene keluar dan melemparkannya ke jalanan. Entah berapa lama Irene terdiam di sana untuk memproses apa yang baru saja terjadi hingga kemudian ia mengeluarkan ponselnya dan menghubungi sang kekasih. Sekali. Dua kali. Tidak diangkat. “Berengsek. Jeremy … tidak mungkin kamu melakukan ini padaku, kan?” gumam Irene putus asa. Pada usahanya yang ketiga, akhirnya panggilan Irene diangkat. “Irene,” ucap Jeremy singkat. “Ada apa kamu menghubungiku?” “Ada apa?” ulang Irene. Kemarahan membuncah di dadanya karena sahutan pria itu. “Kamu menjual rumahku dan kamu justru bertanya ada apa!?” “Ah.” Di seberang saluran telepon, Jeremy menghela napas. “Kamu sudah memberikan rumah dan tanah itu untukku, Ir. Terserah padaku mau kuapakan.” Irene mengernyit. Namun, sorot matanya tampak murka. “Aku tidak pernah memberikan–!” “Dan, Irene,” potong Jeremy. “Mulai hari ini, kita tidak lagi punya hubungan apa-apa.”In a split moment, Jasmine was able to open her eyes, fully conscious of who she was looking at; his face wasn't as beautiful as when she had first fallen in love with him; it beared splashes of blood, strips of sweat, and a growing paleness. But he was smiling. Her eyes were focused on him thinking this could all be a dream but he was smiling, and that made her heart happy. She didn't care that her whole body felt like she was in a fire pit; or that he wa starting to look as white as casper the friendly ghost; he was smiling at her an that, that made her heart happy. She was in his arms, it was cold but she felt warm in his embrace. Looking into her eyes and watching the little light in her eyes, that gave Marcelo hope; hope that no matter what happened to him, she was alive; and that she could still make it. "Still breaking locks chicca?" he said to her, his voice hoarsed. "they were never locked! I love you Marcelo!" warm tears streamed down her eyes. He laughed. A sweet soft sou
Pain.That was all she felt as her eyes slowly opened.Pain and a burning in her back. While it seemed her back had been set aflame, her arms felt as if they were about to fall off. Jasmine resisted the urge to scream, knowing completely why she was in pain. How easily she had been caught. She knew it was endgame she'd felt those big calloused hands grab across her neck when she dashed for the brightly lit door, feeling a sense of daylight behind it. An escape; one which failed terribly. Now she was so sure this was her end. She was going to die. No one would save her. After the torture of being whipped over a hundred times, she would finally have to die. how she was still alive was beyond her knowledge.Her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room fairly quickly. Her back burned, she didn't know how long she could take the pain, already her head was dizzy. Jasmine looked around what seemed to look like a cell, her eyes landing on a figure which stood to the side, concealed by shadows. Jas
Cold, that was her Jasmine's first feeling. She needed her blankets. She was shivering to her bones and drifting inside mind were memories of her life before all of this. The second thing to be registered in her minds eye was the hard ground beneath her, her bed had never been this hard. Even when after ber father had passed and her mum had had to shoulder the responsibilities of all four kids by herself, she never had to sleep on a bed this hard. And thirdly, was the pounding in her head. Jasmine opened her eyes only to squeeze them shut. Her head felt as if it were about to explode. She wanted to rip her hair out, the pain was excruciating. What had happened her?She slowly opened her eyes, biting her tongue in pain; the hammering feeling in her head would be the death of her. Slowly, she sat up, taking in her surroundings. She had still been in the same room but an exception of the chains and ropes. She laid on the bare floor; that would explain the cold. But why was she here? And
For the briefest second, Jasmine felt like she was actually the messiah. She had played the role to perfection and in turn the children of a crazy Asian man who had the effrontery to put her only child up for sale to a Russian troop that actually wanted to kill them for revenge! My father my father! She remembered how her mother would wail when as kids she and her sisters would misbehave. She imagine looking up to the heavens in her own turn and crying out same. They say desperate times call for desperate measures: this time called for if not grace, a miracle. She needed a miracle. It was definite, there wasn't possibly anything that could save her if not a miracle. Her head pounded as She slowly blinked open her eyes. Darkness! How familiar. She thought to herself. Wether she had been safe or not, darkness had become very familiar to her lately. She wondered what time it was. It could have been bright and gleaming sunlight middle of the day. She couldn't tell. She attempts moving
She was sleeping when she heard someone slip into her cell room. She turned around to see Marcello seated beside her."Marcello? What are you doing in here?""I might not be able to see you again after tomorrow. I don't think I will able to watch," he paused,"It's OK. I'm prepa
The most dangerous person in the world isn't the most dangerous person in the world: it's his most vicious enemy.Would you escape?Jasmine overheard Marcello talking to some of his men about the body of a Chinese man killed outside their hideout. She remembered the man that had come
On the third ring of his business mobile phone, Marcello finally picked up. He had a nostalgic feeling rooted from the time he had to be constant wait for Serena's calls whilst still a fugitive in Cameroon. He brought the device to his ear, scratching the side of his face with his index
Two and two had been put together. Not only for Dylan but for Jasper and their family too. As Dylan drove a taxi back to the airport, his index finger continuously tapping on the Jasmine's file that laid on his lap. His patience was running thin; he'd gotten so much from Jasper that he






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