Chapter 11
Zioh
Waking up this morning, pain bloomed under my ribs. A familiar tightness seized my throat, choking the air out of me until my eyes shot open, and tension spread from my throat to every corner of my body.
Another nightmare that lodged in my brain.
Since returning here yesterday morning, a knot had tightened in my stomach. A grotesque sensation gnawed away at me, devouring me whole as clarity returned and the weight of my actions settled in. With heat spiked in my blood, I wished I could undo the moment everything went wrong.
Every muscle strained, veins popping on my hands, and my knuckles white as I pressed my palms together with crushing force. It was obvious that this madness would come!
My hand gripped my chest as the suffocation grew unbearable. I shook my head, again and again. The thought echoed in my head: I should never have come back here! Because look! Another mistake happened!
Lifting my face, I met my reflection in the mirror—only for it to shatter as I hurled the shaving foam at the glass.
A few blinks followed as I shook my head and tried to pull myself back into my body. Once dressed, a forced posture was all I could manage, though my head remained heavy as a stone.
My thoughts wouldn’t stop replaying yesterday, and my damn brain mocked me again and again with reminders of how all of this could not ever be mended.
I raised my head to see my fractured reflection again.
Me, my clothes, the wardrobe, trousers, Tshabina—
If you’re tired, it’s okay to rest, Zioh! We’ll begin again together tomorrow! Pink. 10.
Breathe. One, two, three, four. I let out a long breath and closed my eyes. My jaw tightened, and my grip locked harder.
Disgraceful—how could you do that? Soft, dry, wet, what else… what else… Disgusting. You should’ve listened; you should never have come here. Look at what you did yesterday, you filthy bastard.
“Sir?” A knock came at my door. Natasha’s voice. “Zioh, we need to go.” Her voice came again from outside. It was already midday, and I had somewhere I needed to be, sorting out something that made me sick again.
After one more exhale, I clenched my fists tight and shook my head.
Calm the fuck down. Press, hold, and breathe.
Stepping out of the walk-in, I grabbed my gear and opened the door. Natasha, bright blonde as ever, stood waiting, her attention fixed carefully on me.
Before she could open her mouth, I shoved my things at her and walked ahead. I couldn’t bear her chatter right now. I didn’t need to scold, nor that look, that pitying, sympathy look, or any spark of a question she might throw at me. As if she caught the hint, she held herself back.
I valued Natasha’s instinct. She knew when to go with the flow, when to speak, when to keep silent, when to intervene, and when not to.
I liked that about her. That was why I’d kept this usually talkative blonde woman by my side for years.
She was intelligent, skilled, and fast. Perfect for this position, so perfect that sometimes we talked like friends.
Which was why her pretentious act since we’d arrived here irritated me.
At the front door, a sudden noise erupted from the other side.
My brows furrowed, and Natasha glanced at me, confused.
Two maids were hiding behind the door, peeking out nervously.
One of them startled when she noticed us, tapping her friend’s shoulder.
“S-sorry, sir. O-out there, there’s—” she stuttered and fell silent.
I strode forward, grabbed the handle, and opened the door.
Stepping out, my eyes went to the gate. My brows furrowed deeper, trying to understand what I saw.
Suddenly, a fist struck my face. A small, fair-skinned man had punched me.
Oddly enough, though my head snapped to the side from his punch, I couldn’t feel the pain, and only the pain in my chest remained.
I looked down at him, keeping my face still. He spat words and swore, so I pulled out my AirPods to catch him clearly.
“You asshole! What the fuck have you done, huh?!”
I stared down at him, feeling nothing, and my stillness seemed to enrage him more. He grabbed my collar, struggling but determined. Natasha shouted, trying to push him off but failing. My body didn’t budge an inch, and two security guards rushed in, and only then did the man step back.
Ah… yeah, I remembered. Andi.
His eyes pierced mine, swear after swear, but they sounded empty. Like a broken film reel, my mind blurred, struggling to focus until he shouted something that snapped me back into reality.
“Tshabina!” he yelled. “You fucking sex offender! What the hell did you do to Tshabina, huh?!”
Those words echoed in the air, swallowing every other sound. It made me want to hurt something. My breath quickened; that one word acted like a spell, commanding my body, making my eyes snap wide open, and even my palms numb by the violence of my own grip.
Tshabina, Tshabina.
The next second, I lunged at him, yanking his collar with brute force and dragging him toward me. My arm rose to strike, but two men pulled me back, restraining me.
“Sir! W-what’s going on here?!” Uncle Kuswan held me, the other guard restraining my arm.
“Z-Zioh! W-what is he talking about?” Natasha’s voice cracked with panic.
Hold it, you must hold it, breathe! Damn it—this fury boiled over, spilling into agony.
I had to let it out before I exploded.
Andi fought back, roaring in my face. “Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?!” he roared.
“Who are you to touch her like that!” The guard tightened his grip as he surged forward again.
“Tshabina is more than just a fucking friend to me, same with Tsabinu. So take your filthy hands off them before I rip you apart!” He lunged again, “She’s been by my side for ten years, Danudara.
She’s not your little friend anymore. I am. ”
That’s it.
Shoving past the guard’s grip, I smashed my fist into his face. He and the guard staggered back.
Not enough. Again. Not enough. Again.
I tried lunging again, but they dragged me back. Andi writhed, still cursing. Every poisonous emotion swirled together, and I drowned in them. The disgust consumed me. I was sick of it all, and this bastard in front of me worsened it.
I hoped he’d hit me back, harder, until all I could focus on was the physical pain, so this cavernous pain in my soul might be silenced, even for a moment.
But that hope was crushed when our guards easily yanked him away. “Mas Andi! You’ll land yourself in trouble like this!” One barked, dragging him off. From outside the gate, he still pointed, swearing at me, before finally leaving.
He was heading into the house next door.
I watched him with narrowed, flashing eyes, then shot a look at Uncle Kuswan.
He nodded, as if reading my mind. His earlier words echoed: ‘The entrepreneur, the one in food and cosmetics, sir—’ The new resident of Tshabina and Tsabinu’s old house. That was Andi’s family?
? ── * ── ?
By the time I reached the restaurant, I tried to loosen my collar, and that was when I realised my hands ached terribly, and my whole body felt the same way. The air left my lungs in a harsh breath.
Standing before the VIP room door with Natasha beside me, I remained unmoved for several minutes. This was the place I’d meant to be before that bloody fiasco.
I knew. It was obvious that Natasha stared at me, her eyes clouded with worry, holding back a flood of questions, and I knew I had to rein in the storm inside me before I stepped through this door.
Because if I walked in and met my dad in this volatile state, I’d end up pouring scalding soup or whatever else he ate right over his head.
Breathe. Hold it, damn it. Calm the fuck down.
Door—just a bloody door.
Glancing at Natasha, I exhaled. “Not now. I’ll explain later.” My grip tightened as I pushed the door open.
When I entered, my muscles went rigid all at once. My breath caught at the sight before me: the old man, devouring his food while humming as though nothing had happened, as though nothing ever did.
I laughed. How hilarious, how fucking revolting. It was more revolting that I shared his blood. Worst of all: the fact that that old man was my father.
Unable to hold it back, I scoffed. “Shameless, as usual.” The words dripped with contempt, making him glance up from his plate. I looked at my father as if he were nothing but gum on the bottom of my shoe. I walked over and sat across from him.
He looked back down at his food and continued eating, calm and unbothered. Huh… of course. As always.
Made something, playing innocent little prince, and let others clean up. Repeat.
In the past, he’d have shouted and sized us up from head to toe if his children had treated him this way. Perhaps now he’d learned to accept it. How gallant. It made me want to tear that mask off and show his filthy real face.
Dad sat in silence, finally looking up at me with cold eyes and belittling me, then sighed. He reached for the napkin tucked at his collar, dabbed his mouth, and met my gaze again, with false attentiveness. “I’m keeping quiet because I know you’re angry. I’m aware—”
Oh, go to hell.
Fucking pathetic.
Fucking. Bullshit.
A sharp snort escaped me while my fists clenched tight, the knuckles turning white.
Hold it, damn it. He was still your dad.
What an arse father. Poor you. “I don’t fucking care.
” I do. I care so much, and it drives me crazy, Dad!
No, I’m already crazy. Right? My voice shook as I tried to cage my fury.
“Just tell me about the work. I’ll do my job since I replaced Zaeem as the lead on this project.
Now tell me what solution INDTV Group has for this disgusting issue. ” The last words spat out like venom.
Because it was disgusting. Embarrassing.
What went on in this old man’s head? Preaching to his children not to ruin his name, the company’s name, just to keep a get-out-of-jail-free card for himself?