Chapter Five

ISLA 

The door burst open. Ian, breathing heavily. 

“The president Regent. He's here with the press. Presidential campaign” 

Blood drained from my face, my gaze falling on Zayne. 

He frowned.. “of all places…he chose a private hospital?” 

Ian shook his head repeatedly, “ that's not the problem. The patients in the lower floor….they want to speak with their president” he said and Zayne's fist clenched. Jaws ticking. 

“I told you to move them all!” He barked and Ian lowered his gaze. 

But barking and anger wouldn't get us out of this mess. I didn't want to meet him. I wasn't prepared to see the disappointment that might flash on his face when he sees that the wife he wanted dead was still alive and well. 

My hand trembled a bit. 

Think Isla, think. 

I paused. An idea.

“ Let's leave through the main door” 

“ What?!” Ian screamed, his eyes wide with shock. 

Zayne didn't speak but his brows were raised. 

“ nurse outfit, nurse cap and mask. I'm just your personal nurse” I said in a hurry and Ian exhaled sharply. 

“Miss Isla, any slight mistake would expose your identity. Young master can't…” 

“ Get all she requested for” Zayne interrupted and Ian burned red from anger. 

“ Young master!” 

“ Do it Ian” he said sternly. Ian's shoulders sagged, flashed me a pitiful glance and walked away. 

I always felt Ian wasn't just professional. He disagreed with Zayne most of the times without A single trace of fear. And what was that he called Zayne? …Young master? 

A few minutes later, I walked out of the ward, dressed in a white gown, a slightly oversized shoe to my feet, a white cap and mask. 

I was unrecognisable in this outfit and ….different. 

Among nurses, I stood out. My black hair fell in a neat cascade and my figure was perfect except I looked a lot slimmer than a few weeks ago when I had been too comfortable. Too trusting.

We walked out of the hospital, a file in my hand into the crowd of reporters. 

My heart dropped.

Cameras flashed, the reporters swarmed onto us. My cap almost slipped, my heartbeat accelerated.

Don't come closer. Don't. 

“Sir, how do you feel about seeing the president” one of the reporters asked, getting too close. 

She bumped into me, I stumbled backwards and my cap fell off 

Oh no. 

A firm hand gripped my waist pulling me up. 

“Acting president” Zayne corrected while pulling me closer. “ Stay close. Look down” he whispered and I bit my lips. 

I could feel his heartbeat. They were slow, stable. Unbothered. An obvious opposite to my erratic heartbeat. 

Zayne's response seemed to anger the reporters as they clawed their way towards us while throwing questions.

“What do you mean by that sir? Are you against the regent?” 

“Sir, aren't you being too proud, you can't even answer the questions” 

Zayne stopped and I did too. Yes he was proud–the way he stared, the way he spoke. It felt like he had every reason to be proud. 

We didn't stop for the reporters, we stopped for the man coming. 

My hands clenched as  Samuel walked slowly. Confidently, like the world was already his. 

Sia walked behind him, hips swaying, dressed in a female suit, a small smile on her face. 

She looked perfect. So perfect that my heart ached. 

Perfect dress. Perfect hair. Perfect smile. Perfect status. 

She snatched everything neatly and she didn't even have to work hard for it. 

The crowd parted letting Samuel walk towards us. 

His gaze fell on me and my heart skipped a bit…. It didn't linger for long until it rested on Zayne.

A small smile on his face. “ I heard of your father's passing. Accept my condolences” he said, bowing a bit..

Cameras flashed. 

I guessed the headline: The president regent bowing to a nobody.. 

Zayne’s facial muscles worked, his breathing slightly uneven. His grip on my waist tightened. Too harsh. Too tight but I could only swallow in pain.

“Accept mine too. It was a shame Mrs rivers couldn't survive the accident. it must have been hard” Zayne said calmly, a small smile on his face..

Samuel took off his sunglasses revealing a pained gaze. 

Fake.

He nodded and smiled, “ we both lost someone very important to us” 

Samuel's gaze fell on me again and my body tensed. Blood rushing to my face. 

Zayne pulled me closer. 

“ Your wife?” he asked, his gaze fixed on Zayne's hands on waist. 

I shifted uncomfortablely but Zayne was brutal..never letting go.

“Your reporters were being brutal. I couldn't let my staff suffer” he said. 

Samuel flashed a sympathetic look. “accept my sincere apologies” 

“Hm” Zayne replied and let go of my waist, “ let's go” he whispered to me. 

“Mr Zayne” Samuel called out making me freeze once again. He hadn’t recognised me. “I wanted to know if I had your support in this upcoming election” he said and Zayne stopped. 

“I'm but a vote, totally insignificant. I could as well become a candidate. Much effective” Zayne dropped, a small smile that promised pain hung on the edge of his lips. 

I watched as Samuel’s smile slowly vanished. No matter how hard he tried to restore it, it only appeared forced.

He let his mask slip before the camera. 

“i wish the best to whoever can lead the people well Zayne. Your father was a great man” he said and lowered his eyes. 

Camera’s flashed, videos recording. 

This was no campaigne. This was intentional confrontation. 

“My wife was…she was a strong woman” he said, appearing broken. 

Cameras flashes intensified..

The acting president still grieving his wife. 

Sia tapped his shoulders lightly with a pitiful look on her face. 

My palms burned. Nails digging into my palms. They were shameless but I was going to be worse.

“I'd remind you of this then Reagent” Zayne dropped and we walked into the car, letting the cameras capture our backs as we walked. 

In the car, Zayne's muscles bulged but he remained expressionless. 

I glanced back at the man I had spent six years loving. Six years of foolishness.

“ Dear husband. You should have made sure I stayed dead”