Aphmau House Novels & Stories

“Even in front of Ama, you can still twist situations.” “Very well… I permit your departure,” Ama Clinthon said firmly, his voice cold yet heavy. He stood upright and planted his cane against the marble floor. “But once you find your child—you will return here to Zealand House to protect my grandchild. You are the only one I can rely on here.”

The safe house was a squat brick building on the far south side of Chicago, tucked behind a shuttered auto-body shop and a row of overgrown lots. No sign. No mailbox. Just a rusted side door Mara unlocked with a key she wore on a chain around her neck. Inside smelled of old coffee and cedar oil someone had tried to make it livable. Solar panels on the flat roof fed a bank of batteries in the corner. Thick blackout curtains over every window. A single landline bolted to the wall, no internet, no Wi-Fi. Off-grid in the truest sense.

Chapter 66: Home, Not Safe Amara POV I unlocked the door to my old house and stepped inside with Potty meowing loudly in her carrier and my suitcase rolling behind me. The house smelled a little dusty from being closed up for so long but it still felt more like mine than Damien's mansion ever did. "We're home Potty," I said, as I set her carrier down and opened it. She ran out immediately and started exploring every corner of the living room like she was making sure everything was still the same. I smiled watching her because at least one of us was happy to be back here.

It’s been three days since Tatum bullied her into living here and as much as she hates to admit it, the house has everything to meet her needs and Amara’s needs. It has five rooms, all ensuite and lavishly furnished, its own gym, hot and cold sauna, a mini movie theatre and even a game room or playroom since it is stuffed with toys and dolls for Amara. “Yes mama,” Amara replies but Leila notices the lack of enthusiasm in her voice. Amara is normally the most excited to visit her mother. She reduces the heat on the burner and takes off her apron, walking over to Amara. “Is something wrong honey?” Leila asks, noticing Amara has barely even touched her food.

He said smiling as he waved. I nodded. Walking through the streets that are rather quiet, but there was motorbikes just passing by. My house is not far from here. Go straight for about 20 meters then turn left entering the housing complex on purnama street, on the left past 4 houses and have arrived.

19:00 Mooikloof, Pretoria “Wow” Gina exclaims next to me when we get Amara’s house. The driveway is lined with large pink balloons. The front doorway is decorated with pink roses. The grass has been spray painted pink as well. It’s like someone came and dropped a large pink paint ball in her front yard. And it stained everything. I love it! I know I will never be able to convince my parents to throw me a birthday party like this.

Ama sneers, towing me along. I frown. “Why does this Axel man care what I look like?” “You’ll see.” Ama drags me away from the road and heads for the buildings. They’re massive and look way more sound than the little house I built. I wonder how they got their stones cut into such precise shapes. I could have built a stronger house with rocks like that. Ama gestures toward the buildings marked by a sign that says, Paradise Acres. Around it, a few cars sit unmoving in the places that aren’t marred by long cracks and gaping holes in the ground, which is covered with the same stuff as the road.

(Amara’s POV) The safehouse didn’t look like what I expected. It wasn’t some fortress of cold marble and cameras. It was a quiet, two-story home tucked behind heavy iron gates, wrapped in ivy and early-spring roses. There was a porch swing. A vegetable garden. Curtains that looked like they were picked by someone who cared about color and light. Homey. A word I barely understood — a word that clutched at something deep inside my chest and wouldn’t let go.

Her eyes were moistened. Aashmaan was trying to memorize every street and corner of the way to her new house. After two long hours, the Car parked in front of a big and very magnificent Mansion. Aashmaan saw but it didn't make any sense to her. For Aashmaan her small town and her small house in Shimla were more warm and beautiful than this big and exquisite mansion. Again Gautam's assistant assisted her to come down out of the car. She stood and read the name that was carved on the big board with black bold letters.

Gil replied, naughtily that earned a light slap on his arm that made him laugh. After an hour, they entered Maan’s neighbourhood. Excitement was evident on both of their faces as Maan gave direction to Gil. After a while, they stopped in front of a huge lot surrounded by mango trees. A low concrete fence surrounds the area with a metal gate. A huge two storey house stood made of concrete on the first floor and made of wood on the second floor. There was a modern concrete house that stood nearby which Gil guessed was owned by one of Maan’s brothers. When Maan said it was indeed their house, Gil honked his car to inform them they had arrived.