Semua Bab His Terms, My Surrender: Unfinished Surrender: Bab 21 - Bab 30

I cleared my throat, stepping up to the small podium near the center of the room. The soft chatter dimmed as all eyes turned toward me. My hands shook slightly, but I straightened my shoulders and took a deep breath.“Good evening, everyone,” I began, my voice steadying as I spoke. “Thank you all for coming tonight. Your support means more than I can put into words.”I paused, glancing at the paintings around the room, then down at Martha, standing quietly beside me. My chest tightened with memories I hadn’t thought I’d relive tonight.“Five years ago,” I continued, my voice low but clear, “I came here with nothing. No money, no hope, and a baby barely a month old in my arms. I didn’t know what the future held, only that I had to try… for her, and for myself.”I let my eyes sweep across the guests, feeling the weight of my journey in every word. “Every piece you see tonight,” I said, gesturing toward the canvases, “represents that struggle, that hope, and the hard work it took to get

Martha froze mid-step, her tiny hand tightening in mine. I grabbed her and pulled her back toward the hallway, my heart hammering so violently I thought it might burst right out of my chest. My breaths came in short, ragged gasps, and every nerve in my body screamed that something was horribly wrong.The living room… the living room was a nightmare.Blood was smeared across the floor in jagged streaks, dark and glistening in the dim light. The smell of iron hit me even before my eyes fully registered the scene. My stomach twisted violently, and a cold sweat prickled along my spine. I wanted to look away. I wanted to run, hide, disappear—but my legs refused to move, locked in place by fear and disbelief.And there, on the couch…My blood ran cold.A mannequin head sat perched like a grotesque trophy, a twisted copy of me. Its pale, plastic face bore painted eyes that seemed to stare straight into my soul. Red stains streaked across its cheeks and forehead as if it had been carved from

Tuesday came too fast. My body felt heavy, my mind still stuck in the nightmare from last night. I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to go anywhere. Even thinking about taking Martha to school made my stomach twist. Her uniform wasn’t here, and… I just couldn’t. Not after everything. Not after the blood, the mannequin, the fear.I couldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to her. I couldn’t.Martha woke up crying, rubbing her eyes, her little voice shaking. “Mommy… I wanna go to school. Aire is waiting… I need to see Aire.”My heart ached. She didn’t understand. She didn’t know the danger that had come into our lives. I knelt beside her bed, brushing her hair back from her face. “Sweetie… I know you want to see Aire… I know… but we can’t go today.”“But why, Mommy? I need to go…” she sniffled, clutching her blanket.I swallowed hard, tears pricking my eyes. How do you explain to a five-year-old that life isn’t fair? That the world we thought was safe isn’t safe anymore? That she c

Theo shifted Martha easily in his arms, her laughter still bright in the quiet morning. She clung to his neck, chattering about how long it felt since she’d seen him, how she missed her toys, her bed, her “castle.” He smiled faintly—barely there, but real—and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.I stood in the doorway for a second longer, watching them, my chest tightening around a feeling I couldn’t quite name. Relief, maybe. Or exhaustion. Or just the strange ache that always came when Theo was near.Camilla’s gaze burned into the side of my face. I didn’t need to turn to know what she was thinking—that I was walking right back into the same storm I kept trying to escape. But I didn’t care. Not right now.“I’ll get my bag,” I murmured, more to myself than to her.Camilla didn’t answer. Just sighed quietly, that tired, disappointed sound that said more than words ever could.I turned away and walked to the table, my hands shaking as I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder.

Before I could even pick up my phone to call Theo, the studio door opened quietly. I looked up, startled, and froze.Arzhel stepped inside, holding a single flower in his hand. My heart skipped—seeing him now felt strange. I hadn’t seen him since that chaotic auction night, the night he and Theo had fought over bids, over me, over… everything.“I—uh…” he started, shifting awkwardly. “I wanted to… apologize. For everything that happened that night. I didn’t mean for it to get so… messy.”I blinked at him, unsure what to say.He stepped closer, offering the flower with a small, sincere smile. “I don’t want anything—anything—to come between us. Our friendship. I value it… more than whatever happened at the auction and feelings I have for you.”I stared at him, the words sinking in slowly. “You… you’re serious?” I asked, my voice quiet, unsure if I wanted to hope or push it away.He nodded, eyes steady and honest. “Completely. I just… I don’t want to lose what we had. Nothing—and I mean n