Chapter 7
Zioh
I turned my head, scanning the surroundings, paying attention to every single detail as I finished getting ready and stepped out of my room.
I had stayed one night in this residence under Zaeem’s orders, and that made the biting cold climb up my neck, driving me to keep moving, because remaining still felt impossible.
I hadn’t been able to sleep—or, not properly.
I’d only managed an hour before jerking awake, drenched in sweat.
I had to get out of this house.
Today.
The place was crawling with CCTV, and strange faces everywhere.
I barely recognised this place anymore; it felt as though I’d never set foot here at all.
Each step toward the front door felt heavier than the last, because I could sense the weight of stares on me—from housemaids, staff, even the two security guards stationed at the side gate.
They dipped their head and offered me a polite greeting, while I could only return their gestures with an intense stare.
Something was off.
Did Dad tell them something?
What was Dad scheming this time? Ordered all his lackeys to keep their eyes fixed on me, breathing down my neck?
At the door, I quickly pushed open the heavy entrance and strode outside. Standing on the front terrace, I blew out a breath, closing my eyes to calm the surge raging inside me as I waited for Natasha and my chauffeur to bring the car from the parking area.
Looking left and right, I saw the same thing. Why were there so many fucking CCTV cameras in this house? Ahead of me lay a garden with a fountain and a circular chauffeur driveway where our cars usually turned in and out.
Several metres further stood the towering iron gate, with a guard post beside it. From here, I could see two security men on duty, their eyes watching me.
I shook my head, letting out an exasperated breath.
A light pat on my shoulder startled me. I spun round and found a middle-aged man standing there, watching me with warmth in his eyes. A rush of relief swept through me.
Uncle Kuswan, one of Dad’s most trusted men, had been around since I was a child.
He was Dad’s confidant, but he mostly handled matters within the household rather than business.
Truth be told, he was more of Mum’s trusted person.
The one Mum counted on to watch over us when we were little, together with his wife, Aunt Enda, whom I’d been searching for since earlier but hadn’t seen anywhere.
Seeing Uncle Kuswan’s face, I couldn’t help but smile. It had been far too long, and he looked older now, glasses perched on his nose, skin lined with wrinkles, hair completely white.
“Mr Zioh, it’s been a while,” Uncle Kuswan greeted me with tenderness in his eyes, pulling me into a hug. Normally, I would have shoved anyone away if they touched me with a sudden move. But instead, I found myself giving a slight bow, returning his embrace. The older man was shorter than I was.
“Uncle Kuswan, it has been a long time,” I said, resting a hand on his shoulder.
When we finally let go, I glanced behind him, hoping for another surprise—but disappointment sank in when I didn’t find her.
“Where’s Aunt Enda?” I asked.
Uncle Kuswan’s smile faded into a gentler one. “My wife fell ill some months ago and has gone back to our village, Mas Zioh.”
A sharp pang of worry hit me. “Is she alright?”
He nodded, squeezing my back. “She’s fine, Mas. Just the usual old-age ailments. I suggested she return home to the village and visit our grandchildren there.”
I nodded. A thread of calm pulsed through my veins.
“It’s good,” I murmured.
I turned my gaze towards the house right next to ours.
That house had been no less grand than mine, though our home was substantial, expanded by Dad buying out plots of land left and right to extend it further.
Still, the house next door was magnificent, about half the size of ours, standing tall in this elite neighbourhood.
I couldn’t take my eyes off it. The paint, the garden, even the gate, was still the same; everything looked familiar.
There was a time when I went to that house every single day.
I used to run there every morning, driven by the need to see someone.
If I weren’t here, I would spend the whole day with my little brother and the two children living there.
Tshabina and Tsabinu.
I remembered how the gates between our houses were always open, as if we belonged equally to both homes.
For over a decade, what I ate was what they ate, and what I did was what they did.
There were always four voices echoing in the air, whether in laughter or in sorrow.
I hadn’t lived a single year of my life without them there, from the very beginning until everything changed—especially not without Tshabina.
Being alone is the one thing that will never happen to you, Zioh! I’ll always stay by your side. Yellow. 8.
She and I had shared… something deeper. I’d always tried to take up less space, slipping into the corners, until she was all I could see.
Before she betrayed me.
Before Sophie backstabbed me, twisting my heaven into hell.
Into an endless darkness.
And the pain, the hatred, the disappointment… They would never change. They could never be mended.
“Who owns it now?” I asked in a low, cold voice, still staring at the house. I already knew the family had changed—not just from the family nameplate out front, but because years ago, Zaeem had mentioned over the phone that Tshabina and Tsabinu no longer lived in this neighbourhood.
Uncle Kuswan hesitated a moment before answering, “It’s owned by a family who run a culinary business, Mas. The wife also owns a cosmetics company.”
He knew.
Everyone from the old days in this house knew about us. And no one could fail to realise it was all long over.
Since that day. Since that night.
Then, my car pulled up in front of us. The chauffeur and Natasha had finally brought it round from the car park. Uncle Kuswan stepped forward and opened the rear door for me. “Please, Mas.”
I slid inside. “Thank you, Uncle Kuswan. Please send my regards to Aunt Enda.” The older man nodded with quiet warmth as he closed the door.
? ── * ── ?
After the long crawl through the city, we arrived at one of the fine restaurants inside a five-star hotel in Central Jakarta: Claid Hotel his voice was as soft as I remembered.
I sneered. Even his meek, gentle demeanour remained.
Then he laughed, and an odd feeling stirred in my chest. I tugged my jacket, hoping it would vanish.
Releasing a tense breath, I stepped into the room. As our eyes met, he went still, frozen in place. Whatever he’d been saying to Natasha cut off before he could finish. His lips shut, and his gaze locked on me.
His face stayed expressionless, but his eyes flickered. At least his reaction wasn’t as violent as Tshabina’s when she first saw me. Still, it lasted seconds. By the time I sat back in my seat opposite him, he had already relaxed his shoulders, forcing his face into calm composure.
A career mask, and I’d seen it all my life.
Good effort.
The three of us sat in silence. Tsabinu looked almost too stunned to speak, his eyes fixed on me. For a moment, we both turned to stone.
I tried to search myself, to dig for what I felt, but only fog came. My breath felt heavy, but my brain didn’t give me anything, not one single clear direction. A part of me screamed this was wrong. But most of me screamed that everything had already been wrong from the start.
And damn it, just like with Tshabina days ago, my heart twisted in my chest. Memories burst across my mind, sweet at first but bitter within minutes.
The storm made my mind heavy, and my hands tightened into fists.
Hold it. Press it down. Breathe.
Natasha. Food. Drinks. Chair. Tsabinu—
“Good afternoon, sir. I’m Tsabinu.” His voice broke the silence, pulling me back to the present, and I was about to explode.
I wanted to press my palms to my ears!
He spoke again: “I’m the deputy head of the legal advisor team, sent by Mr. Bakti and Mr. Zaeem to assist you with your work here in Indonesia. If there’s anything I can help you with, please don’t hesitate to let me know.” His words came polished, so elegant.
Voice, face, expression—everything about him was rehearsed. A bloody robot.
My breath raced.
I knew he’d become one of Zaeem’s tools years ago. Even the way he bowed his head respectfully made me scoff.
Fuck. Press it down. Hold it, you arsehole.
My fists clenched tighter.
Our ending had become a sick joke, one I could barely stomach.
Staring at him in silence, I didn’t even know what my eyes conveyed—cold, sharp, cutting—but he showed no sign of wavering. He held my gaze while Natasha kept nudging me with subtle cues, horrified by the war I was waging against the man across from me.
Finally, a thin thread of calm surfaced. “Go—Tsabinu…” I hissed through clenched teeth. “What should I call you, Bibu?”
He flinched at the sound but quickly put his mask back on. With a faint, polite smile and annoying soft voice, he replied. “You may call me whatever you wish, sir.”
I scoffed, and a dry laugh escaped me. Shit. Bastards, the lot of them. My chest, my thoughts—all were roaring at the same time. I leaned back, my lips curling into a smile. He sat without a word in his chair, how obedient…
“Both of you,” I muttered, eyes flicking to the vodka glass before returning to him. “Neither of you has changed. One’s still innocent and na?ve.” Naive and plain, I said, shaking my head. “And the other? Still flat and stuffy as a board.” A stuck-in-the-mud, dull as dishwater.
“I suspect you have lived rather well all this time, haven’t you?” My words were low, sharp. “No need to change a thing, huh?”
He flinched, and Natasha’s eyes widened in horror.
She knew a little about my past with the twins because Zeraiah had told her a few things, and I knew she hadn’t expected me to snap like this.
And she was right, I never did this. I couldn’t afford a single crack, fastening a practised expression, one that would benefit me in every possible way when it came to work.
But since the day I’d arrived, and seeing Tshabina again, I could feel the pieces inside me starting to crack, one by one.
I wished I could turn back time, back to before Zaeem pulled me into this. Sensing myself on the brink of detonating, I shot to my feet. “Excuse me, I need to go to the restroom,” I said, chest heaving.
The moment I pushed the door open, I went still.
Down the hall, a figure walked towards the lift, hand in hand with a young woman.
And that was it.
Everything snapped.
Darkness came, and once again, I was left seeing nothing.