Her whole body quivered the moment she stepped out the car. Oddly enough, it wasn't due to the weather, but rather an outcome of her jumbled thoughts running through her mind. The indescribable emotions she experienced were impossible for her to put into words. "Careful, lean on me," Adrian muttered, helping her, his hand unconsciously moving to her waist while with the other he positioned her on the wheelchair the driver pulled out from the back of the car. Amara swallowed feeling dryness in her throat, hands still hadn't stopped shaking as she settled in the chair. “Call Rhys.” She heard Adrian talking to the guard as the latter nodded and disappeared into the house. Now that she was in the open air, the confined air of the car had been replaced with nature's freshness. Her eyes were cautious yet curious as she innocently looked around herself, this was a large ground where the car was parked. Her curious eyes caught the large pool on the left side of the gigantic house, on the sid
"It’s been long since Amara visited us," Mother’s droning voice reached my ears, and I tuned her out as I scanned the room with my eyes before they landed on the dark piercing gaze of my father. He and mother were yet to know what happened to Amara and I was not sure how I’d tell them all this. "How is she doing?” The spoon in my hand almost dropped. I quickly hid my anxiousness with an unbelievably othered face. Amara. I didn't know what I was doing here, I deserved the pain Amara went through, all the times I ignored her, and every fucking rude word I threw her way. The very anguish I made her go through, I deserved to suffer the way she did. No. Not suffer. But die. I remembered the last time I held her in my arms. She was shaking and sobbing so hard, that she felt breakable and small. Last time. The thought squeezed my chest making me slip into darkness for a split second. I tried to ignore the memories suppressed, to continue how I was before her. Carefree. Pronoid. Not in lov
Amara stared at the darkness in front of her–that was all but stained with blood. Her nostrils scrunched holding back the urge to vomit. But the nasty and stale smell was forgotten in an instant when something shuffled behind her. Panicked, she turn around in a blur, her eyes huge and watering. Hands shook as she clutched her sides with a desperate need to get away from this horrific room. Her breathing became more unstable when she realise there was nothing behind her, but a small crack through which a beam of light was coming from. She swallowed the anxiousness and took an involuntary step towards the source of brightness, heart beating like crazy and senses all jumbled up. The silence engulfed. Sweat tickled down her back and forehead as she clutched onto the little hope of safety. As she moved closer, the light become more visible making she let out a relieved sigh. But it was short-lived as you felt something wet beneath her feet all of sudden. Panic was soon to seize her and s
The breakfast was a lot more awkward. She couldn't handle the piercing gaze of the man sitting in front of her filled with intensity that she was unfamiliar with. Less than an hour ago, she was in his arms. Crying and balling her eyes out. But now, Rhys acted like this never happened. His impassive and unbothered expressions bothered her to the extent she forget about the food in front of her. There was a little curiosity inside her. Ducking her head her hair curtained her face from his gaze. The food tasted as good as she remembered, the toast with freshly squeezed orange juice with a good portion of fruits. She found it quite frustrating to realise he wasn’t as affected as her. Awkwardly bitting at the toast, she glanced at him once again. He looked as magnificent as she remembered. Grey eyes—mysterious and unique blend of emotions, while his dark navy suit added four moons to his already authoritative presence. Rhys hardly touched his food, his sole focus snatched away by the w
"How long? How much fucking long?!" Adrian ran his hand through his hair as he paced around the room with tensed shoulders. Abigail watched him with concern. It had been two days. Two fucking days and yet no lead. Adrian wasn’t sure what he was looking for anymore. Every lead led to dead end. Even the men he hired to investigate seemed useless. The staff didn’t knew what happened that night, and the guard were scared of Adrian’s rage. This huge mansion clawing at him. How did someone managed sneak into his goddamn house and hurt his wife?! The guards who were supposed to protect the house at that time were quickly fired by Adrian before interrogation. Even the CCTVs around the house were tampered with. Either this was work of someone who was far clever to be a stranger or someone he knew. Too well. And that thought just someone—who might be close to him—did such beastly thing to his wife, enraged him to no point of turning back. Moreover, desp
“It’s…delicious…” Amara mumbled with her mouth stuffed with cheese sandwiches. The mayonnaise smeared on her lips as she moaned in bliss. Martha smiled at her adorable reaction. She couldn't help but join in on the indulgence, grabbing a sandwich of her own and taking a bite. Though the sandwiches Martha made were simple—cheeses and grated veggies—but as Amara munched like a child, Martha was happy just by watching her eat. There was something about Amara that pulled Martha to her. Like a child, innocent and naive, who would look for happiness in little-little things. It had been only few days but Martha found herself drawing to her beauty and kindness. Perhaps it was the way Amara's eyes sparkled when she smiled, or the warmth in her voice when she spoke.Her smile broader when Amara went for another sandwich. “Wow…they’re amazing!” Amara eyed the sandwiches as it was the last meal she was going to have. Martha was happy she made plenty to feed her. As she watched Amara devour the s
The next few days blurred into one another, like watercolour strokes blending on a canvas. Amara found peace in the simplicity of her days, losing herself in the vibrant swirls of paint she spent hours on and the comforting presence of Martha. Her emotions remained stormy, but amidst the chaos, she was slowly discovering ways to piece herself back together. Sometimes he’d wake up and find herself in an unfamiliar room, strange and lonely. Yet, as the days passed, she started relying more on her conscience than her fears. And strangely, whenever Rhys was home, the nightmares were less frequent. She’d feel someone beside her bed every night, dreamily stroking her hair, running their gentle fingers on her delicate skin. But when she’d open her eyes, the bedside would be empty. There would be lingering coldness left on her skin. She’d wonder if she once again imagined things. But the wrinkled sheets on the other side, how could she possibly imagine them? Moreover, the chilling sensat
Rhys growled throwing his phone on the passenger seat, his head spinning with both fury and white-hot rage. He underestimated Francis. Not only he lost two of his shipments worth billions but now the bastard was making a council to throw Rhys off the underworld. Rhys almost pitied the man. He’d make him scream and cry when he’d get his hands on her. Slowly killing him and torturing every single council member who dared to go against him. There were two rules Rhys go by—never have mercy on his enemies. And second—always follow the first rule. Rhys knew the day he stepped foot in this mafia world that this was not going to be easy, and he was not the boy to do easy things. He preferred challenges, thrilling and dangerous ones. And his trust in himself brought him near the pillars of success, as most feared man in underworld and worldwide. He had both the looks and money to buy anything, with just a flick of his fingers. Women, cars, houses, buildings, he could even buy those two lost