“You’re not doing that, are you?” Emily asked, her voice a little high-pitched, as they were currently in one of the biggest lounges in Texas.
She owned a lounge called ‘The Place.’ When she decided to name it THE PLACE, Calista laughed out loud, wondering why she chose such a weird name for a bar. What she didn’t know was that her friend actually meant it; she wanted everything to stand out, including the name. Emily’s smartness caught her attention when she went to a friend’s party in college. She knew just how to attract the right person, and her friendly gestures towards everyone captured her attention. “How did your family take it?” Emily asked, nodding her head at the loud music. “I mean, it will be a lot, given the time frame.” “I didn’t give them enough time to process it, Emmy. We’re moving out the day after tomorrow, and that’s it.” “I kind of find you cruel,” Emily added, her voice sounding displeased. “You can’t snatch off a life because you’re afraid he might not come looking for you. You’re afraid you might not move on.” “Emmy, I told you already. I don’t love him,” Calista replied, feeling tired of the conversation already. She was still in her short office skirt, coupled with a blazer blouse that went well with her skin tone. Her hair was still neatly packed in a bun. “Why did you use such strong words?” Emily inquired, shaking her head vigorously at the word “love.” Emily was a fan of casual sex, but Calista suspected she was still a virgin. She used to be like that, fresh and untouched, until three years ago, when she lost it in the most unrealistic way. She remembered vividly his displeasure after breaking her hymen. “I will not take responsibility for this, Calista. You chose to omit your sexuality, even though I asked repeatedly.” Those words didn’t hurt a bit then, but they do now. “You’re attracted to him, no doubt. I bet that’s why you want to be so much farther away; you had to choose the Philippines of all places.” “I’m not getting away from anyone; I’m just going home. My roots cut deep into the Philippines, and there are many good opportunities there,” Calista explained, avoiding sharing a glance with her friend. “You know I don’t believe you, not even the slightest.” “Well,” she said, stretching to go. “I left home in a hurry, not wanting to answer questions after telling them the news, but home I shall return after all.” Calista laughed, picking up her handbag. “Thank you, Emily. I gotta go; I have something to do early tomorrow morning.” “Sure. Allow me to drop you home,” she offered, walking towards the exit with her. “Nah, I already texted a ride,” Calista smiled, walking out of the loud vicinity. “You never let me take you home,” she pouted, holding her hands firmly while she waited for the ride. “You are getting married soon, Emmy. I shouldn’t stress a wife-to-be,” Calista replied, rubbing her hands lovingly. “He hasn’t approved, Cal. He’s into someone, I think.” Her smiley face from a moment ago fell immediately. “I don’t understand why he’s so insensitive as not to love someone as sweet as you,” Calista turned fully towards her, firmly holding her shoulder. “Why do you have to go through all this stress when you can easily find someone? You have a lot of suitors.” Calista had only heard about her betrothed and had never met or seen a picture of him. Emily mentioned that it was to remain private until they were married, which made Calista feel a bit worried. “I love him,” she blurted. “What I feel for him is exceptional, Cal, and I’m going to get him. I will let him do his thing, but he’s mine to keep. My betrothed.” Emily could be desperate. Aside from being all lovely and perfect, she got what she wanted. “The ride is here,” Calista announced, giving her friend a tight hug before walking away into the car. She waved at her, and the car zoomed off. Despite being late, her father was up, patiently waiting for her return. “Dad?” she called, startled as she turned on the light. “What are you doing in the dark?” “Waiting for you, Cal,” her father retorted, pointing towards the sofa. “Sit, dear; we have to talk.” “Dad, I’m exhausted. Can we possibly talk about this tomorrow?” “No, Calista. I promise it will be brief,” he replied, asking her to sit next to him. “Your sudden announcement caught me unawares, daughter, and not to mention you said we’re going to the Philippines. How do you want us to cope with the dialect? They barely speak English.” “Dad?” she called, yawning. “What are you insinuating?” “Can we not go there?” “Work is tiring, Dad. I had a long day, and I need to be at work tomorrow. You can choose anywhere of your choice; just make it far away from Texas,” she said, standing up to go. She moved towards her dad and kissed him goodnight. Calista headed upstairs, her heart heavy from the lies she repeatedly told her family. Ever since she started seeing Ranya, she stopped working. He made sure of that with the constant payments and gifts he lavished on her. She couldn’t bring herself to reveal the truth according to the terms of the contracts. It was confidential; she couldn’t tell anyone, not even Emily, her best friend. What she told Emily was that he was only a good friend helping her. She remembered Emily laughing, calling it friends with benefits, but not until she started having feelings for her helper. Ranya had always been kind to her. He didn’t engage in romance, not even kissing. He went straight to the point, ensuring she was not hurt and that she experienced some pleasure. She pushed her clothes off and entered the bath, wondering why she allowed her dad to manipulate her into changing the location. With the money she had saved and the one he gave her, she was going to make a life out of it and run further away from him. Emily was right. She was cutting him off because she feared he might not come looking. He might just leave her hanging with numerous emotions and memories. They created no memories aside from the bedroom activities; everything else remained a mystery to her. Tomorrow, she was going to his place to erase everything. He would be left with nothing to stand as a reminder of her. Everything she touched, she was going to dispose of. She wouldn’t let him have lingering thoughts of how he thrust into her. She wouldn’t give him the honor. While she took her bath, in another part of the city, Ranya was with his lover, the woman he only enjoyed sex with. Her moans filled the room while he pushed into her, trying to see if he was going to remember this moment they shared in the past. If he was going to feel the excitement while he thrust into her sweet sex. “Ah, yes, Ranya,” Vivian moaned, adjusting herself to brace up with his pace. Something was wrong with him. From the moment he kissed her to this very moment he was inside her, she felt the barrenness. He grabbed her leg, trying to go in deeply, so he could make her feel pleased, but his heart and soul weren’t in compliance with what his body was doing. Instead of the love he intended, he was unleashing pain. The pain he got accustomed to. She was no longer moaning but screaming. “Ranya?” she called, holding his hands to stop him from breaking her in two. He groaned frustratedly, pulling out of her. He couldn’t think clearly. He hadn’t been able to push her out of his mind after the contract ended. He was sure he felt nothing then, but the emptiness, the heavy heart made him want to shatter things. “Are you okay, honey?” she called, pulling the blanket over her while she knelt beside him on the bed, touching him. “Yes, Vivian,” he replied, sparing her a grin. He hadn’t been able to smile properly since she left. The smile left his face the day she took her things and left his house. He shoved his hands into his head, trying to think properly. Maybe this was guilt. It had to be. He shouldn’t have ended things abruptly between them the way he did. Maybe he should have told her many days before today to keep her prepared. Fuck it. They were in no serious relationship, and it was only logical he ended it the way he pleased. “I’m so sorry, Vivian,” he pleaded, turning fully to her and wrapping his hands around hers. He couldn’t really place his hands on what was wrong, why he was being so distant, why he was not feeling any excitement whatsoever. “It’s fine, baby,” she said, taking her hands off his hold and wrapping a hand around his neck while the other combed through his thick black hair. “I’m not going anywhere, trust me; we have plenty of time to do this,” she said, pushing his head to her bosom. He allowed it and closed his eyes, shutting himself off from the world. “Why are we in the penthouse at your office, Ranya? Why not take me home?” she asked, running her hands through his hair. He briefly opened his eyes before closing them again. “Someone needs to go there,” he replied calmly, drifting off to sleep. “It will take a week.”The hospital buzzed with urgency as medics wheeled Calista into the emergency room. Tubes snaked across her fragile body, her face pale and lifeless. The doctor barked orders to his team, his voice sharp with authority.“She’s in critical condition! We need to stabilize her heart!”Ranya stood frozen in the hallway, his hands trembling as they clutched the edges of his blood-streaked jacket. His throat burned from inhaling smoke, but the agony in his chest far outweighed the physical pain. He paced, his eyes darting to the operating room’s red light. Every second felt like an eternity.When the doctor emerged, his face grim, Ranya rushed toward him, gripping his coat. “Save her!” His voice cracked, raw with desperation. “Do whatever it takes. I’ll pay any amount, give up anything—just save her!”The doctor placed a firm hand on Ranya’s shoulder. “We’ll do our best, but her heart is weak. She’s on life support now. The next 24 hours are critical.”Ranya staggered back, the weight of th
Ranya gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white with tension as he pushed the car to its limits. The tires screeched on the asphalt, leaving behind faint trails of smoke as the vehicle hurtled through the deserted road.His heart pounded violently against his ribcage, every beat a painful reminder of the urgency that gripped him. The image of Calista’s face - her laughter, her warmth - flashed before him. He gritted his teeth, muttering to himself.“Hold on, Calista. Hold on for me,” he whispered, his voice a mix of desperation and determination.Lynn’s voice crackled in his earpiece, updating him on the location. “Boss, the building is fully engulfed. Be careful.”“Careful?” Ranya barked back. “She’s in there, Lynn! Do you understand what that means?”Lynn’s silence was answer enough. Ranya’s foot pressed harder on the gas pedal as he weaved through traffic. His mind raced with worst-case scenarios. Was she alive? Was she trapped, crying out for him? The thought of her s
The whole crowd stirred the moment the old man spoke up, his voice reverberating through the grand hall. Chairman Hamilton, with trembling hands, pointed toward Signoral, his face etched with desperation. “Tell me now!” he rasped, eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “What did you do to my Allen?”Allen had always come to him in dreams, begging him to remember. Yet he would wake up to find his mind a blank slate—unable to recall anything.The guests murmured among themselves; the atmosphere turning electric. Whispers of confusion, disbelief, and anticipation rippled through the sea of faces.Signoral’s face turned pale, but she forced herself to remain composed. Clutching Ranya’s arm, her nails dug into his skin as she hissed under her breath, “Ignore him. Let’s finish this wedding. Now.”Ranya shoved her hands away and turned to her with a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “Afraid to lose, Signoral?” he asked mockingly, his lips twitching as he pressed a small button on his earpiece. “Ly
The wedding took place in the sprawling outdoors of a luxurious estate in Texas. Guests from across the globe - politicians, business moguls, and celebrities - graced the event. Despite the short notice, the wedding was a spectacle of grandeur. Ornate decorations, pristine floral arrangements, and the soft hum of a live orchestra created an enchanting ambiance. Ranya stood at the altar, his tailored suit exuding elegance, but beneath the surface, a storm of emotions churned. Worry for Calista tightened his chest with every passing moment. He fought to maintain his stoic facade, yet memories of his promises, and the potential consequences of this union—haunted him. Thoughts of Calista filled his mind: her smile, her trust, and the despair she must have felt. His hands, clasped tightly in front of him, trembled imperceptibly, a stark contrast to the composed image he projected. With every glance toward the arriving guests, the whispers of his conscience grew louder, questioning h
Signoral stood in front of the full-length mirror, her reflection a striking vision of elegance. Her white gown, meticulously crafted with intricate lace and shimmering beads, hugged her figure as though it had been made for her alone. Penelope and a small team of stylists hovered around her, making final adjustments to her veil and train. The air felt stiff, not just from the preparations, but from Signoral's brewing thoughts. She couldn't help but feel something was wrong. But she had made Penelope check over and over for any sign of leakage whatsoever. Charlotte, too, had seemed to be in good health, but she hadn't wanted to take any chances. That was why she had wired a lot of money to her, with stern warnings that she had to disappear for good this time. Her phone buzzed on the vanity table, drawing her attention. She picked it up, glanced at the caller ID, and swiped to answer. Charlotte's voice came through, sharp and accusatory. Talk of the devil. "Signoral," Charlott
The following morning, preparations for the wedding were in full swing. All of America buzzed with shock at the whirlwind announcement of Ranya and Signoral's wedding. Speculations ran wild, and everyone had an opinion about the sudden turn of events. Some believed Ranya was erratic, incapable of making rational decisions. Others celebrated, claiming that Signoral had finally secured her rightful place by his side. Meanwhile, a considerable number expressed disappointment, having grown fond of Calista and rooting for her relationship with Ranya. The media frenzy was unparalleled. Paparazzi and journalists flocked to both the Lewiston Estate and Signoral's residence, hoping for an exclusive statement from either of them. As expected, Signoral basked in the attention, offering vague yet tantalizing comments to reporters. Ranya, however, maintained a strict low profile, refusing to entertain any questions. Five hours before the open-air wedding—the most talked about in America—the