Chapter 44
Zioh
I stepped back into this residence.
The place I’d once called home.
The place I used to return to.
But every time I set foot here now, I stepped straight into my own hell.
Simply walking down the street already made my heart pound like hammers, driving nails deeper with every step I took closer. Once I entered, my body and throat felt as though they were being strangled by something unseen.
I couldn’t stop myself from darting glances left and right, like a hunted animal. When Dad was near, it was even worse. All the shadows inside me broke loose, leaving me sick as a wave churned my stomach, turning my body limp and boneless.
All I wanted was to run and never look back. But my siblings were here. And I knew… I knew Dad had plans for them, too. He always had.
The light shone bright, yet only darkness remained. There was no peace left for me in this house, not even in sleep. Whenever I slept here, I would wake up drenched in sweat.
That was why Mas Zaeem gave me the keys to his penthouse, though he shut many other doors to me. I knew he did it intentionally to make me feel somewhat safe. But even so, my brother insisted that I ‘come home,’ because he didn’t trust me to be away too long without supervision.
He didn’t know. He didn’t know that I never truly came home anymore. This was not a home for me. And the only place that word still applied to, the only home left to me now, I was fighting with all my sanity to keep it safe and far, far away from him.
I wouldn’t let him take Tshabina away from me.
Dad wouldn’t rob me again. I would make damn sure of that.
Breathe. Stay calm. Press it down.
Statues, paintings, sofas, chairs… people.
Wet, soft, smooth—
I couldn’t focus.
Zaeem’d been pressuring me since earlier this afternoon to come back here, insisting that we have some special event tonight.
Whatever that was meant to be, I didn’t care anymore.
If Zaeem and Zeraiah wanted to spend time together, they could do it at the penthouse or anywhere they liked.
But no, they had to drag me back here again and again.
When would Zaeem finally realise this place and that man were pure venom? Not just for me. Slowly, Dad would rot him and Zeraiah, too, until they end up broken and defective like me.
But today, he was so insistent. Almost pleading. He even said, “You’ll like this.”
Like? I scoffed. What on earth could make me happy these past few years? How could my brother possibly know, when even I didn’t?
But at the thought of that word, happy, only one face came to my mind.
Tshabina’s face.
As I stepped deeper into the residence, I stopped. Housemaids and staff rushed about, preparing the dining table nearby as I passed down the hallway from the living room to the family room.
Even the chef set out dishes on the table. The arrangement was meticulous: elegant cutlery, candles, and a vase of flowers. The napkins were perfectly folded, all in harmony.
What the hell?
“Who the hell is coming? Prince William?” I muttered, watching the frenzy.
Instead of amusing me, it made me sigh. Scenes like this usually meant one thing: either a celebration or some terribly important guest. It even reminded me a little of Christmas. Back then, we’d decorate the dining table in all its extravagance, eat together before church, and open our presents.
But Christmas was far off. No celebration on the calendar. Which meant they were welcoming someone.
I exhaled, my breath shallow and uneven.
One of the housemaids walked past, carrying a tray of drinks. I reached out and touched her shoulder, stopping her. “Who’s coming?” I asked, straight to the point.
The housemaid stopped mid-step and turned to me. “Guests of Mr Bakti and Mr Zaeem, sir,” she replied.
I frowned. “Who?”
She adjusted the tray in her hands, hesitant, as though searching for the right words. “If I’m not mistaken… Mr Tsabinu and his younger sister, sir.”
What?
My heart thudded, wild and frantic.
I couldn’t stop the sharp edge of my voice. “What did you say?” The ones who caused this fuss… were Tsabinu and Tshabina?!
No, she couldn’t come here.
I swallowed hard, glaring at the housemaid. “Tsabinu and his sibling?” My tone dropped, cold and sharp. “You mean, Tshabina?” Please, for fuck’s sake, tell me you’re wrong.
The housemaid fumbled, her eyes rounding as if they might burst. That look again. The same look everyone gave me. I had to bite down hard on the urge to explode. “Y-yes, sir… Mr. Zaeem himself told me earlier,” she answered, her voice low and cautious.
It hit me all at once. I couldn’t move or speak for a second. This was his doing. He did it on purpose.
I remembered the sound of those moans, ringing in my ears. The way my father called that fucking slag. The things thrown all over the floor—a denim jacket, underwear, a bag, and shoes. And the young version of me, standing in the doorway, unable to move.
I squeezed my head, my hands trembling. “Zioh… It’s all in your head. I didn’t do it, remember?” One. Two. Three. Four. “You’re exaggerating, son.” ONE. TWO. THREE. FOUR.
“It’s your defective brain that made you believe it. But that’s okay, son. We’ll fix you.”
Even in the UK, not a day passed without me scanning my surroundings—checking and rechecking—because I knew he was watching. He was always there, waiting to punish me for everything I knew, and for every defect in my soul.
I spun around, everything spinning, everything noisy. My eyes caught the CCTV cameras mounted on the ceilings. He knew. He knew Tshabina was the only calm I had left. My peace. My happiness.
And he wanted to steal her away.
Because that was what he always did.
My breath came faster. My whole body trembled—fuck, I hit my head like a punching bag. I tried to steady it, but the dark flooded over, spilling uncontrollably.
With my fist clenched and my vision blurred, I stumbled towards my eldest brother’s room. When I reached the third-floor hallway, I grabbed the door handle and shoved it open with a crash.
Zaeem, fresh from the shower, nearly jumped out of his skin. He was half-done buttoning his shirt, staring at me wide-eyed. “What the hell are you—”
I lunged at him, jabbing a finger towards his face. “You’re going too far!” My voice cracked into a snarl, and I dragged a hand over my face. “You can’t ask Tshabina to come here!” I roared, yanking my hair. “She can’t be here, don’t you understand—”
“Calm down,” he cut me off, already stepping forward. “What? Why?” His eyes searched mine, his brows furrowed in worry. “Understand what?”
What kind of bloody joke was that?
He knew!
The muscles in my jaw locked tight. My fists shook. “You know what I mean.”
He couldn’t pretend he didn’t understand. Tell me I wasn’t the only one sane here!
“Zioh…” His tone softened as he started to realise. “It’s just in your head, Dek,” he said, edging closer, trying to find my eyes. “Besides, Zeraiah agreed too.”
Zeraiah as well?
What the actual fuck was wrong with them?!
Fuck all of them!
I couldn’t believe it. Their thoughts. Their reasoning. They should understand what happened now! They’d always known! How that old man ruined us all. And now he wanted to destroy this, too. Leave me with nothing.
My body felt as though barbed wire was tightening around my chest, and I couldn’t breathe. When could we ever breathe a sigh of relief?
I clawed my hair, fists striking my head. “No, no, no, shit, shit, shit—”
“Dek—” Zaeem reached for my shoulders, but I shoved him harder than I meant to.
Sweat poured down my temples, stinging my eyes. I stared at my brother through the blur. “Mas—”
“What happened?” Zeraiah’s voice cut through the chaos as he stepped inside, startled, mouth agape. His eyes flicked between Zaeem and me as he hurried over.
What happened?
I whipped my head towards him, a burning snap in my eyes. “You let Tshabina come here, Zeraiah! That’s what happened!”
He stiffened, then looked at Zaeem. “Zioh—”
I jabbed a trembling finger at him, my voice a raw snarl. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Zeraiah’s expression softened, and I noticed a subtle shake he forced himself to contain.
“I met Biba some time ago, and I promised I’d call her back.
” He blew out a breath, searching for my eyes.
“And Zaeem reached out to Bibu directly for dinner, and I asked Biba to come along. It’s just a bloody dinner, Zi.
Like old times. We’ve all been falling apart lately—”
I barked a harsh laugh, cutting him off. “That’s your excuse?”
“Zeraiah!” My voice cracked, torn between rage and despair. “You, of all people, should bloody know better than Zaeem—”
“Shouldn’t you be happy?” His brows furrowed. “You two have been close lately, haven’t you?” His voice was rising. “What’s the fucking matter—”
“This is different!” I exploded, my voice breaking with fury. “You know she can’t set foot in this place.” My eyes darted between them, desperate. I really wanted to scream at them so they would listen to me. “Especially while Dad is in this house!”
Zeraiah flinched, his lips pressed tight. His gaze flickered from me to Zaeem, his throat working as he swallowed hard.
“Mas Zaeem already spoke to me, Zi…” Zeraiah’s voice trembled. “You’re not the only one who hates him. I hate him more than you do. But—” He shook his head, looking torn. “But maybe we’ve been wrong all along. Maybe Dad isn’t as—”
Before he could finish, I seized his collar and yanked him forward, snarling in his face. I didn’t need his doubts. I didn’t need his soft heart.
Not when it was Tshabina’s life at stake.
They kept hiding and denying, unable to bear the belief that our father could be a monster. But he was.
He’d been our damnation for years.
“While I’m still sane… tell them not to come. Now.” My gaze flicked between him and Zaeem.
“Zioh—”
Before either of them could speak, the noise from downstairs rose—voices, movement, and a car horn, the kind of sound that leaves no doubt.
Tshabina and Tsabinu were here.
Shoving Zeraiah aside, I stormed out, leaving them both in my wake. The hallway blurred, heat flooding my veins. I stepped into the lift and hammered the button, pacing like a caged animal as it dragged me down, floor after floor. Everything was too slow, too bloody slow.
When the doors finally opened, I rushed into the parking area, my eyes darting.
And there—the car that just pulled in.
It stopped. And she stepped out.
Tshabina.
She was radiant. Her white lace blouse caught the light, intricate as frost. A floral skirt hugged her waist, cascading down with pink blossoms; it was the first time since my return that I had seen the colour pink on her. Her grace was maddening—serene, beautiful.
But I had to break it.
I was at her side in an instant, seizing her arm and shoving her back towards the car.
She turned, startled. “Zioh—” she began, but I cut her off. My eyes snapped to Tsabinu, who had exited the driver’s seat.
“Are you going to take her home, or me?” I said in a rush.
I was hanging by a thread, and the thread was tearing. If I lost it, my sanity would be gone. Again.
She had to leave. Far from here. Far from this hell.
Both of them froze, staring. Tshabina’s eyes widened when my figure came into her clear view, and she saw the state I was in.
Tsabinu stayed frozen for far too long. His eyes flicked between me, his sister, and my grip on her arm. Silent. Calculating.
Every second stretched, and my pulse was a thunderous drum. He stood there, studying a bloody equation, while I fought with all my strength to hold myself together.
Enough.
With a violent tug, I pulled Tshabina closer. “Fine. It’s me then.”
Dragging her with me, I headed for my car parked opposite theirs. Tshabina whimpered in shock, her arm twisting under my grip, but I couldn’t loosen it.
As if Tsabinu had finally realised what was happening, he quickly followed our steps and was about to pull Tshabina back. “Zioh—”
Until a car arrived, and we stopped.
An Aston Martin. Midnight blue. Sliding to a stop directly in front of us. We halted, squinting against the glare. The blinding beams pinned us, making us freeze like prey caught in a hunter’s light.
Then, with a quiet click, the headlights dimmed.
The door opened, and a woman stepped out.
My heart felt like it wanted to stop.
The moment I saw her, my grip on Tshabina’s hand trembled, tightening with sheer dread.
No. No. No. This isn’t real. It is.
The world blurred. My body locked.
She looked straight at me. Her voice—smooth, venomously familiar. Like a nightmare given flesh and sound. “Hello, babe… It’s been a long time since we met.”
Her words slithered through my ears, unmistakably clear, and I could feel my old wounds cutting open.
In this moment, the darkness swallowed me whole.
I loosened my hold on Tshabina’s arm.
My lips trembled, barely able to form her name. “Ci… Cindy…”