Masuk
Amara's POV
I was typing a report when my office telephone rang. I did not pay much attention to it until the receptionist told me that Amara, “Mr. Collins wants to see you. Now.”
My stomach squeezed.
He would never summon anybody to his office unless something was amiss.
I stood and pulled my skirt, and had to walk down the hallway. I knew even before I knocked that there was something heavy on the other side.
"Come in," he said.
I stepped inside. Mr. Collins sat behind his desk with a solemn face. He pointed to the opposite seat.
"Sit, Amara."
I sat quietly, waiting.
He folded his hands. Your work has been declining in the past few weeks.
His eyes were on mine. "This isn't like you. What's going on?"
My heart thumped slowly. I didn't want to talk about it. Not here. Not with him.
"I'm fine, sir," I said.
He frowned. "I don't believe that. You have been one of my best employees in two years. One minute, you find out that your job is late, messy, and you are distracted. He leaned forward. "Talk to me. I will assist you, provided you are truthful.
I looked down at my hands.
It was no longer possible to avoid it.
I said at length, "My mother is sick. She should be treated... and it is costly. I have been trying to acquire the means to get the money. This is why I have been distracted.
His face relaxed only a little--only a little.
"I see," he murmured. "That's serious."
I nodded.
He held back a couple of seconds and said, You know... I can help you."
I looked up slowly. "How?"
His eyes changed, and the tenderness was gone.
"If you do something for me."
Something funny came to the bottom of my stomach. "What... thing?"
He sat back on his chair as though he was going to tell me the most casual thing in the world.
"I like you, Amara. I've liked you for a while."
His eyes were shamelessly roving over me. I will make you a promotion and increase your salary two times, should you spend a few nights with me. You will pay off the medical bills of your mother with ease.
I was unable even to breathe a moment.
He was married. With a daughter. A daughter almost my age.
I cleared my throat and maintained a steady voice. "Sir, I'm engaged. And you're married. I can't do that."
The good nature on his face disappeared at once; in its place came annoyance.
So you reckon you are better than me? He snapped. I am giving you the chance that many women would struggle to get.
I do not want that sort of opportunity, I thought to myself, and said, with all due respect, I do not want that sort of opportunity.
I jumped at his smashing his palm on the desk.
"Then you're fired."
My breath caught. "Sir--"
Pack your bags and get out of my office. Now."
I stood slowly. I didn't argue. There was no point.
The only thing I could do was to maintain my dignity.
I left his office quietly, taking my personal belongings, and walked out of the building. I did not feel angry at all; I only felt empty as soon as I went outside.
I got a cab and gave the driver the address of the house of Daniel. My fiance. The single individual whom I believed would get... at least to some extent.
Maybe he would comfort me. Hold me. Assure me that it was going to be right.
Upon arriving at his home, the front door was slightly ajar. Nothing suspicious--he never locked it.
But as soon as I entered, I heard it.
Soft moans.
Female moans.
My heart froze.
No, I said to myself, and slowly walked toward the sound.
The door of the bedroom was half-closed. I pushed it open.
And I saw them.
Daniel.
And Bella--my younger step-sister.
Together in his bed.
The legs of Bella were around his waist, and Daniel was too shocked to move from seeing me.
"Amara, what are you doing here?" he uttered and scrambled to conceal himself.
My head was not able to think for a few seconds. I was unable to feel my legs or my fingers.
"Why are you here early?" he said, as though that was the chief point.
"Why am I--?" I almost laughed. "Daniel, what is this?"
Bella did not even seem ashamed. She fiddled with the blanket and said with pride, I am pregnant.
My gaze fell upon her stomach. There was a small bump.
A bump that I had never noticed before.
My breath shook. "You're... pregnant? With my fiance?"
No, no, it is not like that, Daniel said hastily. "You've been so busy with work. I felt lonely. I needed company. And a child, too."
I stared at him. So you thought you would sleep with my sister?
It was reasonable, he said, like it was, that she was here, and you were not.
I picked up my phone and called my father at once.
I was not shaking in my voice; I was too angry.
"Dad, Daniel slept with Bella. She's pregnant," I said flatly.
His answer was immediate and without delay.
"Why are you overreacting? Aren't you sisters?"
I closed my eyes.
He went on, Why are you being greedy, when the man can take care of both of you? A man is supposed to be the provider of the family. Share him."
I put down the phone before he could continue.
I took the engagement ring off my finger.
I held it up, and Daniel looked nervous.
Then I hurled it at him.
He shuddered upon receiving it on his chest.
I said nothing else, but turned and walked out of the house.
A cab slowed up beside me when I got to the road.
I opened the door and slid in.
"Where to?" the driver asked.
I looked forward, my voice unshaken.
“Anywhere I can leave my woes behind.”
I kept following her.Everywhere Liana went, I went. Every step she took, I was there. At first, I was really curious about what this woman was planning. I hide myself and watched her day to day activities carefully.She lived quite a normal life. She had almost 3 jobs that it made me wonder if she every rest at all.In the morning she worked at the company. In the evening she goes to run errand and then at later work at her part time store.I wondered why she needed to work so hard.I followed her quietly as she walked down a lonely path on her way back him.Her pace quickened immediately, her shoulders tensed, her eyes darted nervously. Fear slowly crept in, painting her expression with panic.Finally, she stopped. Turned sharply. “Why are you following me?” Her voice was sharp, trembled slightly, but held a wall of defiance.Then she froze. “It’s you!” She looked confused.“I’m waiting,” I said simply, “for you to prove you’re not Amara.”Her shoulders dropped in frustration. “I al
I stood there, frozen.My mind was screaming a million questions, but my lips refused to move. My body felt heavy, as if I had been carved from stone. I could still feel the warmth of my hand on my face, the sting from the slap.That slap was something I didn’t see coming. The pain of getting hit by Amara was nothing compared to the hurt I felt as I saw the look in her eyes.She looked at me like a stranger. Cold. Empty.“Amara,” I whispered, my voice trembling, weak, almost broken. “It’s me… Adrian.” I took a hesitant step forward.She stepped back, a wall of distance forming between us.“I’m… sorry, sir,” she said slowly, carefully, her head bowed slightly. She trembled a little bit. “I don’t know who you are.”I lifted my head sharply to look at her.“And I’m not Amara,” she continued. “My name is Liana.”The words hit me harder than a punch.No. It couldn’t be. Though, I had stared at death, mourned her for year, suffered the pain of missing her and here she was standing before
I ran through the streets like a man possessed. My chest heaved, my legs ached, but I could not stop. I had to see her again. I had to make sure.I turned to a corner and froze. There she was. The same hair. The same curves. The same height, walking down the street without a care in the world.My heart jumped. She was alive. She had to be.I ran toward her, shouting her name. My hands reached out. My mind screamed with hope. But the moment I got close and spun her to face me… my heart sank.It wasn’t Amara. Not her.I stumbled back, unable to breathe. My mind reeled. Was the woman in my room an illusion too? Had I mistaken her for Amara in the darkness?Desperate, I sprinted back to the hotel. I demanded the CCTV footage. The receptionist frowned.“Why do you need it?” she asked, her tone teasing.I stared at her, my face squeezed and filled with disgust.I didn’t answer. I dropped money on the counter. Enough to silence any question.She blinked. Then, slowly, handed me the footage.
The journey back was quiet. Terrifyingly quiet. I could not stop thinking about her. About the way she had run. The way her hair had bounced in the sunlight. The way my heart had almost believed it.I knew my eyes hadn’t lied. I knew I would have recognized Amara even from thousands of miles away.“Was I… hallucinating?” I whispered softly.“What did you say?” Peter asked sharply.I shook my head quickly. “Nothing. Eyes on the road.”“Yes, sir.”When I arrived at my mansion, everything was exactly as I had left it. The house was spotless, but nothing had changed. Not a single thing.Amara was everywhere. In the cushions. In the curtains. In the faint scent of her perfume that still lingered in the air. It felt like a cruel joke.My chest heaved. I could feel the pain settle there.In the sitting room, our large portrait caught my eye. She was smiling. Beautiful. Peaceful. Alive.I breathed in slowly, as if I could inhale her essence. Three years had passed, and yet the ache was fresh.
My life had become a prison I could not escape. Every corner of the house reminded me of Amara. Her laughter, her soft voice, the way she would rest her hand on mine—it haunted me. But worse than the memories was what I had done. The guilt. The shame. The betrayal. It burned inside me like fire.I sat on the edge of my bed. The clock read past twelve. Sunlight fell weakly through the curtains, dust floating in the beams. I did not care. I did not care about breakfast, work, or life itself. Every breath felt heavy. My chest was tight. My stomach knotted.I could not drink. Not after that night. I had promised myself. Never again. The wine, the escape, the lies to myself—they were useless now.A soft knock came at the door. I did not move. My hands shook. My body felt numb.The door opened slightly. Seraphine stepped in. Her eyes widened when she saw me.I stood suddenly, fists clenched. “What are you doing here?” My voice was cold. Sharp. Full of anger.Her head dropped. Her voice trem
I stood in front of Amara’s picture for a very long time.The ceremonial house was quiet now. Most of the guests had left. Only a few remained outside, speaking in low voices.Her picture was large. Framed in gold. Surrounded by white roses.She was smiling in it.That smile.Soft. Deep. Peaceful.She looked alive.She looked like she would step out of the frame at any second and walk into my arms.My chest tightened.I reached out and touched the glass gently.Cold.Just like the metal table at the mortuary.My throat burned.“How could you do this?” I whispered to her picture.“What happened to the promises we made? How could you leave me like this?”My eyes were swollen. I had cried until there were no more tears left. Now it was just pain. Dry pain. A pain that sat inside my bones.People had come earlier.They praised her.They called her brave.Called her a hero.I hated it.They did not deserve to say her name.They did not deserve to stand in the same room as her picture.Most







