Molly was on the bed sleeping when her phone started to ring. Upon checking, she saw a call from her uncle. Her heart skipped a beat because it was the wake of dawn and she could sense that something could be wrong.
Her haunch told her it would have to do with Andra but she would not know until she received the call, hence, she picked the call.
“Good morning uncle.” She greeted him upon taking the call.
“There is nothing good about this morning.” He snapped. “Where is your sister? Where the hell is Andra?”
“She…” Molly hesitated. She was going to speak the truth but could not bring herself to do so.
“She’s fine.”
“Fine, how?” Duke demanded. “So, this is how you’ve been supporting her errant ways, right?”
“No, I’m not. That’s not true.” Molly sat up sharply on the bed, his anger driving home the seriousness of the situation.
“Then, why are you lying to me?” he asked furiously. “Do you know what she has just done? Am I to believe that you’ve been in support of her stupid actions?”
“No, uncle. How can I do that?”
“You just lied to me. Why should I believe you? You’re the closest to her. You know her moves. Why didn’t you inform me that she was going to go out again? Do you want my reputation to be ruined? Is that what you want?”
“No, Uncle, I’m sorry.”
“You’re sorry? How will your apologies restore my reputation especially in the eyes of the public, if I finally lose it? Do you know what they are saying about me now because of Andra’s latest antics?”
Molly felt tears stand in her eyes. She didn’t like seeing her uncle hurt. Ever since her parents died in a crash, he took her in and that’s how she grew up with Andra. He had always treated her well and people barely knew that he was not her real father.
“I’m sorry, Dad.” Sometimes she called him that, especially when he was mad. It used to melt his heart.
There was a bit of silence as it affected him although she could still feel his anger and she was afraid it might lead to something bad happening. “I’m sorry Dad.” She repeated.
“How can a daughter choose to disgrace her father like this and her sister would be in support?” he bit out trying to control his fury. His words broke her heart.
“No, I have never been in support.”
“You’ve never been in support and you let her go out without telling me about it? You greatly disappoint me.”
“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”
“You had better tell her to be home by the time I get back from vacation this morning because I’m about to do something drastic.”
“Yes, dad, I will.”
“I thought I could trust you.” He said disappointedly.
"I'm sorry." She began to apologize again but he ended the call, ignoring her. This caused her to give in to her tears which slipped down her face.
She dialed Andra’s phone number and the phone rang but Andra didn’t take the call. She tried again, and the same thing happened. She recalled her uncle’s words about Andra and realized something was up, so she turned on her data so she could gain access to the internet.
She immediately saw a trending video on a popular local blog that featured Andra’s latest disgraceful display in the club. Now she knew why her uncle had been so angry. She threw her hands up in exasperation.
Molly quickly sent a text message to Andra’s phone- IF YOU’RE SOBER ENOUGH, TEXT ME THAT YOU’RE OKAY. THEN START COMING HOME IN CASE YOU’VE NOT KNOWN THAT YOUR FATHER HAS FOUND OUT ABOUT YOUR OUTING IN A HORRIBLE WAY. CONGRATS. YOU’VE DONE IT AGAIN. YOU’RE ON YOUR OWN.
She dumped the phone by her pillow and waited for a response. It took about a minute before her phone buzzed with a response from Andra – OH GOSH, I AM ON MY WAY.
***
One hour elapsed before the door opened and a tense-looking Andra walked into the room, her eyes burdened by worry. The light struggling to enter the room indicated that it was daybreak already.
“How did daddy find out?” she asked with heightened anxiety.
Molly glared at her in frustration as she left the bed, coming to stand before Andra. “Why won’t he?”
“Because you’re supposed to watch my back.”
Molly looked at her with incredulity. “Can you even take the time to see how upset I am? He called me and was furious with me for not telling him you were going to go out. And you know I hate it when he is disappointed in me.”
Andra sighed heavily. “Look, I’m sorry.” She moved in closer and hugged Molly comfortingly but Molly shifted away from her.
“You reek of alcohol.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I have no choice but to forgive you.”
“Thanks.”
“As for having your back, it’s no use. Like I said in my SMS, you’re on your own because your video from the night is trending.”
Andra’s eyes rounded in shock and Molly rolled her eyes.
“Oh, please.” She said. “How do you think he found out?”
“Gosh, please how did I look in the video?” Andra asked worriedly, “I was quite drunk. Hope I didn’t look too bad. Was I looking hot?”
Molly’s mouth opened in shock.
“Is that all you’re concerned about? Your appearance? Your looks or the scandal?”
“My look of course? What scandal? Did I take anybody’s husband?”
“How about your father’s reputation? People are questioning your father’s eligibility to be Mayor when he cannot control his daughter.”
“Oh no, but tell me, was I looking, okay? Also, what’s your uncle’s anger level on a scale of 1 to 10?”
“You think this is a joke, right?”
“No, of course not. But please tell me, what’s the level of his anger? Please say something.”
“Well, you can always check the video to ascertain your looks. As for my uncle, once he is back, you can see him. Then you can determine his anger level.”
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“Please, find it in your heart to forgive Mike,” Andra said gently. “I met him outside the house. He’s dying of guilt. He apologized to me. I promised him I’d talk to you. He’s been waiting for quite some time because you won’t talk to him, or take his calls, or respond to his messages. He’s torn.”At her words, Dominic felt the heat of his anger begin to melt. He remembered Mike’s earlier attempt to fix things.“I will try,” he said quietly.“Thank you.”“You’re welcome.”A pause passed between them. Then she smiled and whispered, “I love you, Dominic James.”His gaze softened. “I love you too, Andra Anderson.”“What now?”“We’ll see how the election turns out.”***The next day, Duke Anderson issued a public statement.He had forgiven the young woman. He would not be pressing charges.The announcement sent ripples through the media. Praise poured in. His ratings climbed. People began to talk of his nobility. Forgiveness, they said, was a rare quality in leadership. Duke’s prospects f
Hours later, the entire country was abuzz. A breaking news clip with several variations was trending across every media platform. Phones chimed with notifications. Screens in salons, cafés, and offices glowed with the same footage.Jane stood outside the gate of her father’s house, surrounded by a sea of flashing cameras and muffled murmurs from reporters. Her face was bare, her eyes red-rimmed but determined. She held the mic tightly, as if drawing courage from its weight.“This is an apology to Duke Anderson and his family. This is also an apology to Prime Minister George James and his family. I am sorry for my utterances. It was a prank that went too far. I didn’t mean to say those things. I had no right. Everything was fake. I know nothing of a contract. I hope he can forgive me. I hope everyone can forgive me, but I am prepared to accept responsibility for my actions. I also apologize to my family for all this. Once again, I am sorry.”Her voice trembled as she spoke, but her wor
Jane seemed to be expecting Dominic’s call. She answered before the second ring.“Wow,” she said, her voice light, almost amused. “Everyone seems to want to talk to me. And by everyone, I mean your friend Mike—and of course, you.”“You believe this is a game, right?”“I’m not playing a game, Dominic.”“Then what is this?”“Love.”“Love?” he echoed, unable to believer her delusion.“You are worth fighting for. I can make this all go away with a public apology—but only if you promise to come back to me. We can start all over.”Dominic fell silent. She mistook the pause for hope, or worse, acceptance.“I knew you’d be reasonable,” she said gently. “You’ve always been reasonable, love.”He inhaled deeply, trying to calm the slow-burning anger rising in his chest. It helped—a little.“Jane.”“Yes, sweetheart?”“Where are you?”“At home,” she replied. “You have the address. I’m sure the separation didn’t make you forget.”“How could I?” Dominic said evenly.“Great.”“I’m on my way.”“To talk
Dominic shook hands with his associates inside his new boardroom, the walls still bare, wires exposed, and paint buckets tucked in corners. The long glass table gleamed beneath the overhead lights, even though the room around it still smelled faintly of plaster and fresh paint.He was glad the meeting was over. One by one, they filed out, murmuring quick goodbyes, their footsteps echoing down the hallway.Outside the boardroom, the entire building buzzed with motion—engineers in hard hats, designers measuring walls, delivery people hauling in furniture and cables. But Dominic’s mind wasn’t there.One of the engineers stayed behind to brief him on progress—logistics, electrical plans, a minor plumbing reroute—but his words washed over Dominic like static. Something was off. The silence at home, the unfinished conversation with Andra... it tugged at his thoughts."Sir, I assure you. Everything will be done well.""I don't fully trust you because you said this office was ready. Just move
It was nighttime, and Dominic lay in bed with Andra nestled in his arms. The room was bathed in the soft glow of amber light from a single wall sconce. Outside, the distant hum of the city filtered through the closed windows, muffled and unobtrusive. Inside, there was only quiet and warmth.She kissed him, and he responded—claiming her lips with intensity. There was something different in the way he held her now, something primal, protective. The brewing trouble had ignited a fierce need in him to keep her safe, close. He drew her in tighter, cherishing the feel of her body in his arms.Andra's breath hitched, growing feverish with need under his touch. He loved how she responded to him, but he paused and whispered against her lips, "I would prefer you heal."She nodded, eyes dark with longing, and he simply held her for a moment longer. Then, he leaned in, voice warm against her ear."I think I know how to help you heal faster."Intrigued, she looked up at him, but he didn’t say more.
The recording studio was quiet—almost sacred in its silence. Thick soundproof walls hugged the room, absorbing every stray noise, while the faint hum of high-end recording equipment gave the space a subtle, ambient buzz. LED strips glowed soft amber along the edges of the ceiling, casting a warm light over sleek consoles, monitors, and a glass-paneled vocal booth beyond.On the artist’s lounge side, a deep velvet couch sat tucked beneath acoustic foam panels shaped like art. The room smelled faintly of cinnamon and cedar—Molly’s signature tea steaming in a ceramic mug beside her.She sat cross-legged on the couch, effortlessly stylish in an oversized graphic tee and studio joggers. Her free hand rested on Andra’s, fingers gently curled around hers. Andra looked out through the soundproof glass toward the booth, then down at their interlaced hands.“He was gentle,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, as if the mics might still be live. “It wasn’t what I expected. No pain, no we