Chapter 14
Zioh
I had been sitting in my car for several minutes, and a relentless drum beating behind my ribs refused to be silenced.
When I first stepped out of the restaurant and slid into the backseat, Natasha claimed her phone was missing or had fallen somewhere.
I had no choice but to wait with the chauffeur while she searched.
Natasha was furious with me, and rightly so; I had been an arsehole to her.
When we arrived at the restaurant earlier, I had already told her to leave again before she had even stepped out of the car.
My excuse was that she needed to buy something specific at the mall nearby.
Something so absurd that I didn’t even know what it meant myself.
And when she sent me photos showing she’d found them and was on her way back, I told her they weren’t right and sent her back out to search again.
Of course, I didn’t need any of it. I also didn’t understand why something inside me was pushing so hard for her to go.
Ever since I saw Tshabina at the office earlier today, watching her freeze, I couldn’t stay still. My jaw tightened, and my pulse hammered with heat. She had clearly frozen, panicked, and was uncomfortable.
Half of it was because of me. But what infuriated me most was that it wasn’t entirely because of me. She had clearly shown her unease with Aditya.
I snarled under my breath.
All this time, I had been forcing myself to tamp down the surge of resentment and calm myself. But what I found instead was my fists clenched tight, and I kept shaking my head.
I couldn’t even explain everything to her. I had been too disoriented, too stunned that morning and… and…
Hold it in. Breathe.
She was right. Her words earlier were true. We should keep our distance. Whatever scraps of us were left had long turned to dust. It all ended ten years ago. I was not the man I was back then; I wasn’t even close, and everything had changed.
How was I meant to explain my insistence on keeping away from her?
I didn’t even know if I could see her again. Because whenever I was near her, it felt as if a stranger inhabited my own body, acting before my mind could even process them.
You really were.
I closed my eyes, and the memory struck. Tension ran through my entire body. A thick, pounding pulse rang in my ears as her eyes trembled when she looked at me, building walls of caution against me. Those warm hazel eyes flickered with pain, and with it, my own flesh seared tenfold.
It made me want to tear my own skin open.
You always make me smile, Zioh. I wanna do the same, and I want us to be happy together forever. Green. 11.
Then—I remembered. Our lives began as a thread, neat and whole, and became a tangled knot. She was the one who caused it.
It rotted everything further. I couldn’t look into hazel eyes for ten seconds without feeling heat crawl up my spine. I wanted to tear off every bit of olive skin and shred every black hair I saw.
The worst part was that she didn’t even realise it. Even in the end, she wore an innocent look and carried her life unscathed.
We were the ones destroyed, while she carried on fine!
I shook my head harder as the noise inside my head grew ready to burst, to explode. Calm down, you bastard. Or don’t. Breathe, or don’t. Count. I shook my head: people, chairs, tables, Tshabina, tears—
My brows drew together.
She was… crying
From inside the car, parked right outside the restaurant, there she was—framed by the window. She finally started to eat because she hadn’t touched a bite while I was there. Then she pulled out her phone, made a call, and broke down in tears.
Tshabina cried…
My whole body stiffened, tension rising with no explanation but the undeniable truth of it coursing through me. My body hurt. My mind roared. Everything darkened, darker and—
I shot out of the car, my body no longer my own. I clenched my jaw as my breath came out ragged. I opened the door, and winced a little as the loudness struck me, mixed with a thud that rang in my ears.
Turning left and right, I scanned the crowd, though I hardly knew what—or who—I was looking for. All I knew was the compulsion burning inside me, urging me to do something before I lost control and erupted in the middle of the room.
Then, one door caught my eye at the far corner of the hall. Staff Only.
With heavy, stiff strides, I went straight for it.
Hold it in, damn it. People, tables, glasses, tears—
Fuck.
Why was she sobbing like that?
Which bastard caused it?
Whoever it was, they’d pay for it. The same way she had wept, they’d bleed. The same way her body had gone pale and rigid when she heard that voice on the other end of the line, they’d shatter, and worse, tenfold fucking worse, if need be.
Reaching the door, I shoved it open. There were a few people inside and a lot of equipment. A handful of staff stared at me in confusion, but I didn’t care. My stride was tight and deliberate, and I walked straight up to a man gawping at me.
What now? Think.
I reached for my pocket, yanked out my wallet, and snatched a signed cheque from inside, shoving it at him.
“Change the song,” I muttered, rushed and low, and deep heaviness filled my chest.
The man blinked, staring at the blank cheque, then back up at me. His hesitation needled me raw. I didn’t have the patience for this shit. “Strong,” I blurted. I didn’t know why; I could only name the last song I had heard with her, more than ten years ago.
The last one she’d played beside me, sung along to, laughed together in my car, only the two of us.
After that, I’d never again seen her sing with such joy.
“Play ‘Strong’ by One Direction. Turn it up.” I grabbed his hand, pressed the cheque into it, and let go.
“Take the cheque, write whatever bloody number you want. Now.”
Then I strode out, my blood still boiling, brimming with pitch-black, crept over my thoughts and my body.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at her again; if I did, I knew I would lose the tenuous grip I had on my restraint.
My steps were rigid and forward until I reached the car again. I climbed in and turned my face away.
My hands were crimson from pressing too hard, crushing my fury into my skin. I shook my head fast. Papers, seats, my chauffeur, the window, Natasha—
Finally, Natasha returned. But I growled at the chauffeur before she could open her mouth. “Drive. Now.”
The car rolled forward, and I stared out the window while my mind drifted miles away. Out of the corner of my eye, Natasha was watching me again, concern etched all over her face. Her earlier irritation seemed to have drained away, replaced by something softer.
I hated this. I hated being unable to focus on my work, and people saw through me. But somehow, Tshabina always pulled me out of control. She drove me into things I couldn’t rein in.
But I knew why, it was because Tshabina had been the path I walked.
I had always moved towards her, with her, for her.
She was the only thing I remembered, the first thing I searched for when I woke.
In the past, all I wanted was to leave my room, see her bright, beautiful face, and spend hours with her.
Bit by bit, she became part of me, as though I could not be complete without her.
Meeting her, being with her, felt like sunlight on the deck, a gentle breeze against my skin. But without her, I felt as if I was drowning, pulled deeper and deeper into the sea’s dark water.
It seemed… my mind registered her as dopamine itself.
If I had a hobby, it would be drawing her and filling her with colour. If I had a favourite thing, it was the way her full cheeks rose when she smiled. If I had joy, it was the loud, bright sound of her laughter.
The second most important woman in my life, after my mum.
But now it was over. Gone without a trace.
Now she was Tshabina, no longer Sophie.
Now the name I gave her was planted in my brain as if it were a curse.
“Tshabina… why do you always hold this spell over me?” I whispered to the blurred reflection of myself in the window.
My gaze drifted outward into the expanse of this metropolis. It was so different from London, yet nothing special. The only thing that gave this city any meaning was our memories. Memories before I abandoned it, before she became my ruin.
Before it all turned to hell.
I shook my head, my fingers clenching hard again.
The look of pain radiated from her eye kept circling in my mind. Wasn’t that pain nothing compared to yours?
Blowing out a harsh breath, I loosened my tie and raked my fingers through my hair. I had to force myself to think of something else. If I couldn’t divert myself, I’d end up screaming, ordering the chauffeur to turn the car around, straight back to her.
And that couldn’t bloody happen.
So, instead, I pulled out my phone and opened the one application that could distract me: the CCTV feed.
Every camera installed in the Danudara residence, all linked here, was at my disposal. One of the conditions I’d set with Zaeem when he forced me to stay. He knew it would ease me, and he’d given me access without hesitation.
Scrolling, I flicked through feed after feed. Living room one: empty. Living room two: empty. Kitchen. Hallways: a few staff. Side garden: empty. Front yard: nothing. Until, far off, there was someone standing and chatting with our guards at the gate post.
My eyes narrowed.
I exited, scrolled to another camera. Guard post. I tapped it, and there he was. Andi? Chatting away with two of our security men. Still in the same clothes I’d seen him earlier at the meeting.
Tapping the speaker icon, I adjusted my AirPods, and their voices rang out. Ridwan, the taller and darker one, was pulling Andi in, offering him some of their food. Andi looked half their size, squeezed between them as they relaxed in the cramped guard room.
Then Ade, lighter-skinned with wavy hair, asked, “Mas Andi, what were you doing trying to pick a fight with Aden the other day? Got a problem with him?”
I frowned.
And then it struck me, so casual, they sounded like friends. Was Tshabina’s so-called best friend actually close with my bloody guards?
Andi cleared his throat, turned away, sulking. Ridwan pressed again. “But you used to come round here all the time to gossip about Mas Zioh, Mas Zaeem, and the younger one. What changed yesterday? Why the fight?”
Busted.
So, this was what they did. Gathered. Gossipped. That odd little man was blabbing about us to my own guards.
My chest tightened, irritation crawling beneath my skin.
What exactly had they been saying about us?
Andi still refused to answer, his face sour. Ade tried again, his voice softer. “Come on, Mas, don’t be like that. Poor Aden, you know he’s dealing with so much—”
“I don’t care!” Andi snapped, chewing angrily. “So what if your young master’s got problems, debts, instalments—whatever. Doesn’t mean he gets to treat my bestie like that!” His voice climbed into a whine, sharp and grating.
Bestie. He meant Tshabina.
My foot jittered on the car floor, unable to stay still.
This bloody wanker.
Andi started to continue, but his words were cut short by the arrival of a silver McLaren, gliding through the gates. The guards scrambled to their feet, turned their backs to Andi, and bowed as the car passed.
My body went rigid.
I switched cameras, seeking a better angle—Post Two, aimed at the side lane towards the car park. My breath hitched as the car came into view. There he was. He had come early.
Then Andi’s voice came again, “Shit, McLaren 720s?! That’s my dream car! But… who’s that? Some new girl? Holy shit, but why does that old man have the guts to bring her here—”
“Shh, Mas!” Ridwan hissed. “Don’t talk like that! There’s CCTV over us, with sound recording too. You know that!” They glanced up—straight into the camera I watched from. They knew, and still, they kept doing this.
If Zaeem let them, if Dad didn’t care, then their chatter was nothing more than flies buzzing.
Ade added, lowering his voice. “That’s young Aden.”
Andi blinked. “Hah? Young Aden?”
Ridwan nodded, whispering. “Yes. The youngest. Mas Zeraiah, he’s here.”
Andi’s shock was written all over his face. “What?!”
Yes, Andi.
What indeed.
Why the hell had Zeraiah followed me here?