MasukZerina’s POV
Florence's gaze raked over me with contempt, her eyes lingering on every inch of my body. I felt a surge of discomfort and shifted uncomfortably under her intense scrutiny. "Come closer and stop standing there like a dumwit," she snapped. I walked closer, still confused about what was happening.
The nurses moved forward, guiding me towards the bed. I sat down, my eyes scanning them warily. What if they were here to administer injections? I had an intense fear of needles, and the thought made my heart race. It was one of my major fears and it made it to the top five of the list. I really hoped to God that it wasn't injections or big needles because I would scream my lungs out and run out of my room. The nurses untied my towel, leaving me exposed. I felt a wave of shame and tried to cover myself, but Florence's sharp voice stopped me. "Don't you dare do that. Let the nurses do what they came here for. You are to just sit there and obey every single damn instruction."
I swallowed hard, my eyes following their every move. The nurse that has been keeping a straight face ever since I walked out of the bathroom retrieved something from the first aid box that sat beside me, and my heart skipped a beat as I wondered what it could be. I quietly prayed to the universe hoping it wouldn't be a needle or a knife. I glanced at Florence, her expression unreadable. I knew she was capable of anything, and the thought sent a chill down my spine. What if they wanted to do something bad to me? Cut me up and sell one of my organs or something. The thought made me shiver. I had read on the internet a week ago that a kidney cost millions, and my stepmother was one greedy being. I just came out of that traumatizing room and here she is, still trying to hurt me more than she has already been doing all my life.
But when the nurse pulled out bottles of oil, cotton wool, and other medical supplies, I exhaled in relief. The dark-haired nurse lifted my arms and turned me onto my back. I knew they must have been shocked on seeing the hideous scars at my back, the most prominent one cutting across my belly. I looked up at Florence, but her expression remained impassive, devoid of remorse. Yeah, what was I expecting? That she would flinch when she saw the indelible marks she left on me?
Again, to my surprise, the nurses started to clean the wounds that were still kind of fresh. As they cleaned, I hissed from the pain of methylated spirit against my wounds. But come to think of it, why was Florence suddenly showing this "kindness"? Did she wake up from the wrong side of the bed? Or has she finally started to accept me as part of the family? I scoffed at the thought. I must be stupid for thinking such. Even after six years, I still craved their approval. Grow the fuck up, Zerina and stop hoping for something that would never come.
A thousand curses have escaped my mouth since today. I guess I was on edge these days, and something else changed. I don't know what but my body is starting to feel alive. I don't know if I should call it that.
"The wounds will be healed in two to three days, but for the scars, there's nothing much we can do about it." One of the nurses spoke up. "For the scars to fully heal, she would have to go for a laser therapy. "
"What's that? " Florence asked.
The black-haired nurse spoke this time. "It's the use of high-energy light to break down scar tissue, stimulating collagen production and improving skin texture. It's effective for..."
Florence interrupted "Spare me all the medical bullshit. How much does it cost?"
"It doesn't cost much just.."
"Oh never mind. I'm not about to spend a single dime on her."
Now, that's the stepmother I know.
Saying that she waved them off with her hand.
The nurses swiftly gathered their belongings and exited the room, leaving me alone with Florence. I stood up from the bed, my head hung low in discomfort, as I wrapped the towel loosely around my chest.
The silence that followed was oppressive, and I could feel Florence's eyes on me, her gaze heavy with disdain.
Without a word, she rose from the couch and approached me. "Get dressed and head to the kitchen to help serve food. Don't make me come after you," she said, her voice cold and detached. With that, she turned and left the room, leaving me still wondering what the hell was her purpose for these medical treatments on me.
My heart was already exhausted from the ridiculous jogging torture Lysander had forced me through earlier, yet somehow it began beating even faster. I didn’t even understand how that was possible. It was as if the poor thing had decided to abandon all logic and simply sprint toward its own destruction. Before I even realized what he was doing, Lysander suddenly moved. One second I was standing there, still catching my breath from running, and the next I felt a sudden sting at my wrist as his hand caught it. Everything happened far too quickly. His shadow fell over me. His other hand rose to my face. Then his lips were on mine. Warm. Firm. Brief. So brief that by the time my brain understood what had happened, it was already over. The kiss lasted barely a moment but it was enough for my head to be filled with torrents of memories rushing back in. The way I’d felt that night. My hot flushed body. Gosh, Zerina. Get a hold of yourself. These memories left my entire world spinning.M
Zerina’s Point Of View When I woke up, the sky outside was still dim and grey. For a moment I simply blinked up at the ceiling, trying to understand where I was and why my body felt so warm and comfortable. Then my memory slowly returned. Right… I had been reading while waiting for Lysander. My eyes widened. Wait. WAIT. “Oh my God…” I gasped and shot upright in bed. “Did I seriously fall asleep?!” Panic flooded my system instantly. I whipped my head around the room, searching for any sign of him. There was nothing. No tall, dark, terrifyingly handsome man leaning against the wall. No dangerous presence sitting by the bed. He wasn’t here. “Was he downstairs the whole time?” I muttered nervously. Or had he come in… seen me sleeping… and just left? My stomach twisted. What time was it?! I scrambled across the bed, nearly face-planting on the mattress as I grabbed my phone from the bedside table. The moment I saw the time, my eyes almost popped out of my head. Morning. I
Author’s Point of ViewZero a did not quite know what emotion she was supposed to feel after hearing his explanation. “A-an unripe fruit? Excuse me? Who does he think he—” “Shh… Go upstairs now.”The warmth that had briefly shimmered in his gaze faded, replaced by a cold, shadowed chill that settled over him like dusk swallowing light. Zerina understood in that instant that she should not push him any further. Still, she could not help the agitation rising within her. Being likened to a fruit was one thing—but an unripe fruit? That comparison bruised her pride. She puffed out her cheeks in protest and lifted her foot as if to stomp, but before doing so, she shot him a glare meant to convey her displeasure at being compared to an inanimate object. Fortunately for her, she was already halfway up the stairs—yes, she deliberately chose the staircase instead of the elevator mostly because she didn’t want to be reminded of her trauma and also, so she could imagine stepping on his fa
Lysander set Zerina down gently at the foot of the ladder. He turned toward her afterward and said, “I’ll climb down first. Make sure you grip the ladder properly so the wind doesn’t sweep you away again.” His voice almost carried a trace of concern, yet a sly, dangerous smile curved his lips as he spoke those words. He descended swiftly, and the instant his shoes touched the solid ground below, he tilted his head upward and gestured for her to come down. Zerina swallowed nervously. It had been simple when she climbed up earlier, but now that she was looking down from that height, fear crept into her chest. Fortunately, seeing Lysander waiting beneath her steadied her racing heart. She placed her foot on the first rung, and Lysander immediately noticed the faint tremor in her legs. His posture stiffened as he became alert. This girl was truly unbelievable. How could she speak so boldly and act so fearless, yet tremble over something like this? As Zerina carefully made her way d
Author’s Point Of ViewZerina stared at him as though he had suddenly sprouted another head. “Do something thrilling? What could possibly be more thrilling than watching the sky from up here?” she asked, honestly bewildered. To her, this was already more than enough. She couldn’t imagine anything surpassing this moment—climbing onto the rooftop, resting in her boyfriend’s arms, and admiring the soft, fading colors of the evening sky as they slowly dissolved into grey. It felt like a dream fulfilled, the very peak of romance. Yet a doubt crept in. Perhaps for someone like him—someone who had traveled far, who had seen the world in ways she hadn’t—this might not be extraordinary at all. Lysander’s smirk deepened, sharpening at the edges, and something wicked flickered in his eyes. Without warning, he pushed himself up and twisted his body, shifting so that in the next instant he was half draped over her. His gaze gleamed with dark amusement as he looked down at her, trapping her b
Author’s Point Of View Lysander stood there in complete silence, staring at Zerina as though she had just spoken in a language he did not understand. For a long moment, he truly did not move. He had implied enough. Any other woman would have caught on immediately. Any other woman would have smirked, teased, pushed the tension further. But not Zerina. This little wife had simply declared that she would “work hard” without even knowing what he meant. This foolish little wife… A muscle ticked in his jaw. She had already forgotten the very first warning he had ever given her — to think before she spoke. To understand the weight of her own words. Yet here she was, offering herself into an agreement she barely comprehended. And the worst part? She looked so serious about it. He exhaled slowly through his nose. He only hoped she would not back out of their arrangement later. Because if she did… if she tried to run from something she had willingly stepped into… His gaze d
Author's Point of ViewLysander was standing beside the window, one hand resting against the glass. His eyes were still cold and cruel, but Zerina noticed something different this time. There was no jeweled hardness in their depths. She stepped inside cautiously, and had no idea what to do in the
Zerina's Point Of View I ran along the staircase, using my eyes to search for Mr. Wilson. The marble floor seemed to stretch on forever, a cold, unforgiving expanse that matched the dread pooling in my stomach. I didn’t know what to do. I hated this feeling—the heaviness in my chest, the guilt w
Zerina's Point Of ViewAll the way home, Lysander didn’t say a word. He drove the car with his eyes fixed straight ahead, his grip tight on the steering wheel. The air around him felt heavy and suffocating, and I didn’t need anyone to tell me that he was not in a good mood.I wanted to explain what
Authors Point Of View His voice was as cold as an iceberg. Zerina didn’t know why such a voice—so sharp and distant—could make her heart settle in such an awkward moment. They had only met a few days ago. She didn’t even know him well. But one thing she was certain of was this— She felt safe wi







