Semua Bab Salt And Steel: Bab 21 - Bab 30

Lucy. Thursday, 11th February Three days later... Noon. “Mmm…” A low groan tears from my dry lips. My throat burns, cracked and painfully dry on the inside. Water...I need water. My eyes flutter open, another weak groan escaping me as a blinding light streams in through the window, nearly scorching my vision. Instinctively, I raise my arm to shield my eyes. Pain. Sharp and immediate, shoots through me. “Aah…” I cry out, wincing. Frantic footsteps erupt beside me. “D...Doctor… she’s finally awake!” The voice pulls my attention sideways. A lady, dressed in red scrubs rushes toward the open door. My gaze drifts sluggishly to my arm. An IV line is attached to it, clear liquid dripping steadily into my vein. More footsteps sound from beyond the doorway, dragging my attention back. A man rushes in, eyes wide with worry. Concern. He’s dressed in a crisp white long-sleeved shirt. Sleeves rolled to his elbows. Shirt tucked neatly into black slacks. Handsome. Unfamiliar. Olive ski

Chase. Beirut, Lebanon. 20 years ago... Noon. My heart beats wildly as the car rolls through the gates of the mansion. Tall. Intimidating. A massive structure of white and black marble walls greets us as the car glides to a stop in the driveway. My eyes stay glued to the window, taking everything in. Despite the exhaustion weighing down my body from the endless flight hours we endured all the way to Lebanon, excitement still hums beneath my skin. Dad’s voice from days ago echoes in my mind. “How would you like to visit our home in Lebanon?” I had stared at him, stunned. My ten-year-old heart had nearly exploded from excitement. “We have a home in Lebanon?” I asked, awestruck. Dad nodded smugly. I had turned to Mum then. She was sitting in the living room, as well. But her eyes had flashed with something painfully familiar. Sorrow. That deep, endless sorrow I had grown used to seeing. It gnawed at me every time. When my eyes met hers, she dropped them inst

Chase. Meanwhile. Chase’s Residence... Dad is pacing in front of me like a caged animal. His breaths come out heavy. The veins on his temple throb violently. Well, he might as well be a fucking caged animal with the way he keeps prowling before me. We’re in my home office. I just got home moments ago. Shortly before Dad stormed into my office. I needed to come home to see Kitten. To know how she is. To maybe apologise to her for leaving her alone these past few days. I missed her. I shouldn’t have stayed away. But I had to. I was furious with her for asking about Mum. I didn’t want to see her, because she had dragged up a past I never willingly visited. But now, I didn’t expect Dad to show up here. “Sir, Miss Roshid is worried about you.” That was what Cameo told me last night when he came to drop off some files I requested. I was at my discreet penthouse pad in one of our luxury apartment buildings on 57th Street. One of our finest buildings, leased only to the most financially

Lucy. The girl takes a step closer. She looks awfully familiar. Like an influencer or something. She’s Chase’s girlfriend? I didn’t even know he had a girlfriend. Why doesn’t that sit very well with me? Something ugly settles inside me, thick and sour, even though I try to shove it away. “Chase belongs to me.” The girl stops just a few feet away from me. My brows crease. Wow. That’s territorial. “And I don’t like hussies stepping in to claim him from me.” That sparks something sharp inside me. She just called me a hussy. That, I will not take. “Look...” I fire at her irritably. “I’ve had an awful day, and the last thing I need is some fashionable bimbo dressed in high heels standing before me and claiming shit.” She gasps. Her face instantly grows red. Her brows deepen. “How...How dare you!” She snaps. “You come into Chase’s home, try to claim ownership of his space, and then call me a... a bimbo dressed in high heels?” “Yeah.” I fold my arms. “What do you

Chase. Sunday, February 14th. Hours later. Morning. 5:30 AM. Dawn slowly crests over the horizon as Cameo slips into the car beside me. I tear my gaze away from the icy water where my men have spent most of the night dumping the acid burned remains of Bowman and his friends. “All done?” I ask coldly. He nods. From the corner of my eye, I catch my other men already moving toward the waiting black SUVs. Cold air drifts into the car before Cameo shuts the door. “Good.” I turn my attention to the driver. “Take us to that floral shop from yesterday. The one where I saw those beautiful pink and red roses.” He nods and puts the car in drive. “Floral shop, sir?” Cameo asks, his tone edged with quiet disbelief. I turn to him, raising a brow. “Any problem with that?” He shakes his head, hesitating. “Just that all my life working with you, I’ve never known you to indulge in such things.” My lips flatten. He's right. I have never indulged in such things. Not because I disliked them.