Nothing Without You

2. Christian

TWO

CHRISTIAN

Osama grunted as he got back up to his feet, wiping away the blood from his brow. The idiot laughed like I didn’t just punch him in the fucking face.

“You would think,” he released a heavy breath as he ran his taped hands through his hair. “That you taught me how to fight instead of the other way around.”

Sweat pooled at the back of my neck while I bit back with a smirk. “I didn’t take you as a sore loser.”

Osama guffawed and winced at the pain. “Fuck.”

“Are we done or are you planning on getting beat up even more?” Without letting him answer, I started unwrapping the tape around my hands.

Hand-to-hand combat became my coping mechanism because of Osama.

He’d been doing it his whole life and when we met in college, he convinced me to start doing it with him. There was nothing better than punching another person without the repercussions of a lawsuit. The sweat, the pain, the adrenaline… It was an aphrodisiac.

The dingy warehouse smelled of sweat and oil. When I first bought the place, it was shit. Turning it into a personal gym was the best fucking decision made.

My eyes darted towards my phone resting on a worn-out bench.

“You realize you keep looking at your phone?”

Today was in the works for a while. Careful . Calculated . Controlled . Precautions were set in place for every possible mishap, but with the plan I curated… nothing would go wrong.

Osama strutted towards the ropes. “You realize the shit you pulled is insane, right?”

“How many times are you going to ask me that?”

“It’s a rhetorical question, smart-ass.”

Osama muttered something under his breath before following me out of the ring. He smelled sweaty as shit.

Grabbing a towel and my phone, I scrolled while wiping my neck.

She was everywhere.

Everything about Adelaide changed. Her short blonde bob-cut grew into long luscious strands of hair that reached mid-back. My fingers itched to run through them—- wrapping it around my hand. I squeezed my eyes shut. Fuck. I can’t think of her like that. Her tiny, lithe body conformed with extravagant dresses.

Adelaide once exuded confidence; I tightened my fingers looking at her now meek expression.

She was fine.

Even if she isn’t, it’s not your fucking problem.

Adelaide Mikael looked like the kind of woman little girls called a princess. All bright and full of smiles. She was the green in a field of black. She was rain after a drought.

Fucking nauseating, is what it was.

Scrolling further down, a video of reporters I sent popped up. She stared into the camera like a deer in headlights. My lips tightened when an all too recognizable man came into view and pulled her out of the shot.

“You might as well prepare for a war because if Eda finds out what you did, she’ll come for our throats.” I’d been prepared for the past seven fucking years.

“Eda won’t find out.” I shoved the phone into my shorts pocket. “Until I want her to.”

“This partnership you’re talking about is forcing Adelaide to marry you, Christian. It’s unethical . And when she finds out that you’re responsible for the girls…”

“ Osama ,” I snapped. “Adelaide won’t find out.”

She wasn’t a part of the plan. Sure, she was unintentionally going to help me succeed, but I wasn’t putting her in harm's way. Her use was temporary and afterwards, I’d make sure she wouldn’t be involved. Breaking up never meant hating her , but it did mean hating those surrounding her.

“Bullshit.” Osama looked at me with a raised brow. Osama only had two choices: stay with me or leave, and he didn’t pick the second one because the guy had a damn hero complex.

This revenge wasn’t about moving on. It was about satisfaction after I dug Starlight into the ground. Her broken face when I tore out her hard work from her hands.

Exhaling slowly through my nose, “We’ve been preparing a long time for this, Osama,” I said. Looking down at him didn’t hurt my neck since there was an inch of a difference between our heights. “There’s no backing out now.”

“Right,” he replied with a sigh. “I just didn’t realize how much Adelaide was getting involved in this. I’d rather not see her get hurt.”

What part of I’d make sure she didn’t, did he not understand?

She was Eda’s kryptonite and despite all of this being unethical, it was the only choice I had. She might be my layer of protection, but I swore before this began, I’d be her bulletproof vest.

Loving someone once meant they had a good place in my heart. Adelaide was a good girl who got stuck in a life full of bad people.

Osama spoke as if he was talking to himself but stared at me. “That girl looked at you like you were her world.”

Clenching my hands, I glared with a pointed finger. “One more word out of your mouth and I won’t hesitate to bust your throat into the ground, Osama.” My eyes narrowed, “Tread carefully.”

“Look,” he sighed. “Fuck. I hate this—everything you’re doing but you’re my friend and the reasons are pretty damn good not to do this.” He let out an aggravated sigh. “But you have to admit that this shit is insane.”

Through the small windows of the warehouse, the sun began to set. This plan had no boundaries. No matter how insane it might be to anyone else.

Osama shook his head in disbelief. “We should head out soon.” He turned around and walked towards the locker room. “I told Ayeza you’d meet at her house.”

I wiped away a bead of sweat above my lips with a nod. “Did it go well?”

“It did, but she’s a little shaken up.”

My head whipped up. “What do you mean?”

“We were late that night.”

“ Fuck .” Mishaps were bound to happen, fuck, when it involved someone else. The first step of our plan succeeded without hiccups, but this was the first time we faced an issue with the second part.

Starlight’s shareholders lured in newer, younger, female interns with the deception of helping them rise up to the top with a contracted job. When Osama—I became CEO of Moonshine, we hired women who’d pretend to be lured in by the members and record what they’d say. Thank fuck we had an officer on our side because if we didn’t, none of the women would have escaped.

Ever since our slip up with Ayeza, she’d been jittery, unapproachable, completely traumatized.

I was going to kill all five of them. “Are you sure she’s ready to see me?”

“She wants to get it over with.”

“You sent the money already, right?”

A nod.

“Any update on the other end?” We’d been waiting for the third member of our trio to send us a message. I left Osama in charge because I was pretty sure I’d break the phone from how often I was checking in on the group chat.

“He gave us the thumbs up.”

Another nod.

When the conversation ended, Osama disappeared behind the locker room door. I stood in the middle of the gym with my head up at the ceiling. I shut my eyes and counted to eight.

Eight seconds of thinking.

Eight seconds of peace.

Eight seconds of imagining round blue eyes staring up at me.

Fuck.

Not being able to control how I felt was unlike me.

Adelaide’s a beautiful woman.

Running a hand across my jaw, even a dead man’s dick would fucking wake up from witnessing Adelaide’s beauty.

Fucking hell.

Resisting my ex-girlfriend was proving to be harder than I thought.

Figuratively and literally .

“The money’s been sent?”

The girl with the bright blue hijab draped loosely over her head stared back at me with skepticism etched on every corner of her face. Ayeza Ali sat rigid on the couch and drank the hot liquid from the teacup. A subtle aroma of cardamom pursed through the air around us.

Whenever I moved, she flinched. Her eyes sauntered over to the open front door.

“I’m sorry about that night,” I said.

She placed the cup down. “Please eat something.”

The assortment of butter cookies looked incredible, but I refused. Straightening the lapels of my jacket and grunting from the squeak of her couch. “Do you have the recording?”

Time didn’t stand by and wait for the world to catch up, I needed to make sure she had no remaining evidence on her.

She cleared her throat with an unamused chuckle. “Subtlety isn’t your strong point, I see.” It took her a minute to meet my gaze, but she looked down when she did.

“I sent the recording to Mr. Taimoor.”

Ayeza shifted in her seat, playing with the hem of her shalwar kameez. Her fingers tightened around the fabric and her forehead perspired with sweat when I stood.

Walking towards the door, I hid my hands in the pockets of my pants. Waiting a minute, then two… precisely three before she calmed down.

“Can’t I just sign the papers?”

“Of course.” I used my head to direct towards the folder. “I need you to also tell me you won’t tell anyone the truth about this.”

She picked it off the table. “What if people find out? What if Ms. Mikael finds out?”

“I don’t want you to worry about that. Focus on taking care of yourself,” I fisted my hands in my pockets.

The moment of silence where she read the NDA, I looked around hole covered ceilings that were covered with masking tape.

Osama was right. She lived in a shitty neighbourhood where people got caught doing the most questionable fucking things. In some ways, I took advantage of her misery but there were legal forms and written consents, and she was aware of what she had to do. Then why the fuck did I feel terrible about it?

Helping people was expensive. There was no such thing as pure kindness or empathy—those were masks, a facade for people who didn’t understand the realities of this world. I was a bastard. I was mean. But I wasn’t inhuman. Hence, helping Ayeza out. I bet God is somewhere out there, begrudgingly writing this good deed down.

“I would recommend staying out of the public’s eyes for a little while. They’ll want to talk to you about what happened and find a way to put words in your mouth.”

Her eyes simmered with anger and pain. “What about the emails from Ms. Mikael?”

For fucks sake, Adelaide couldn’t talk to a group of reporters without getting eaten by the cameras and their lack of etiquette.

People believing it was her left an ugly flavour in my mouth that tasted awfully like wet cement.

Starlight’s board members had been doing this for many years. They were smart men with a highly intelligent woman standing behind them.

“Osama will update you with all the details related to work and living conditions. Thank you for your time and commitment, Ms. Ali.” My fingers clamped around the papers while I walked back to the car.

Osama sat in the driver's seat with his brows raised when I slammed the door behind me, “What happened?”

My response was a grunt.

“You do realize I don’t speak grump , right?”

The papers find their humble place in the compartment of my car. “Shut up and drive.”

“Not before you tell me what got your panties in a twist.”

“I don’t wear panties,” I deadpanned.

Osama snorted. “And yet you act like you do.”

“She signed the papers.”

“That is what we came here to do, yes.”

This shit was ruining my mood.

“Are you mad that she signed the papers because deep down you wanted her to tell the world that you helped her so Addie would…” Would what? Be taken out of the public’s eye? Osama’s eyes widened and muttered some bullshit under his breath.

I looked out the window, tuning out whatever words he was saying in Urdu.

The sudden sharp headlights from a car parking shone in the rear-view mirror. People needed to learn some fucking manners because the first rule of driving in the dark when there are people around is don’t flash your fucking headlights.

It had to be an old white man because, in my head, those were the only people who forgot how to drive. I’d blame it on the old age, but it was because they didn’t give a shit about the people around them.

“...Don’t tell me you want to get back together with Adela–”

Long blonde hair and an ankle-length dress came into view.

Time stood still as she glowed in the darkness. Something inside me ached viciously at the sight of her. Years had passed and the image of her remained imprinted on my mind. But for the first time in a while, I stared with my head empty and my throat stricken with dryness.

She turned her head to the left and her… her eyes were on me.

“Shit, duck!”

Osama’s big ass head bonked against the wheel and the horn went off.

Oh, what the fuck .

“Stop doing that,” I hissed.

“You stop,” he hissed back.

“You’re the one honking the car.”

“You’re the one making me fucking honk the car.”

Oh fuck, he was right.

Once I removed my hand from his head, it stopped.

“Fuck, she heard it.”

“Yeah, well no shit, the whole neighbourhood must have heard it,” Osama said while both of us kept our heads down. “Wait,” he turned his head to look at me. “Why are we ducking?

“Adelaide’s here,” I mouthed.

Osama snorted.

“Shut the fuck up,” I smacked the back of his head and the car honked again. Fuck, I had to stop doing that.

Osama gave me the middle finger and I returned his gracious act with a flick to his forehead. Even at a time like this, he acted like a complete idiot.

A real best friend, truly .

Silence erupted around us as we waited for her to leave. Why was she just standing there? She walked a couple of steps forward with her shoulders back but as she’d reach the door, they huddled close, and she turned around. Her lips moved at a crazy speed with shut eyes. If I didn’t know her, I’d guess she was praying. But it was a wrinkled patch on her dress that gave her away.

She was muttering encouraging words to herself.

The nerves in my body jumped with their hands held together. Couldn’t she have looked a little less… pretty?

Her eyes flung over to the car again.

Osama cleared his throat.

Our faces turned towards each other. Oh, fucking hell, if someone saw us from the outside, they’d think we were lovingly gazing into each other’s eyes or some shit.

Grimacing, I turned my head to the door.

“Another second longer and I would’ve fallen in love with you,” Osama whispered with a dreamy sigh.

It was my turn to give him the middle finger.

Discreetly peeking up at the side mirror, Adelaide was gone. A snippet of a smile pulled at the corner of my lips. Alas, she gathered the courage to head inside.

An uncomfortable, sticky feeling inside of my body made me wonder what changed— why she hesitated.

How long had it been since I’d seen her in front of me? Since I saw her bright smile blind my entire existence?

The pounding of my heart was telling me it had been a long fucking time.

Raising my head, Osama followed suit.

We stared ahead, neither of us talking.

“So…” He began. “Are we gonna talk about that?”

“I’m gonna punch you in the face if you don’t start driving.”

He snickered under his breath and put the car in drive.

It was when we got into the elevators of my apartment complex, that I remembered the windows of my car were fucking tinted.