That afternoon, when I got back from school, I noticed my mother's car parked in the driveway. That alone made my stomach twist a little she was never home that early. Usually, she didn't get back until late in the evening, after her sessions with patients.
The moment I walked through the front door, the faint scent of lavender met me, and there she was, sitting on the couch, waiting. Her phone was face down on the table, her eyes distant until she looked up at me and smiled.
"Azalea," she said softly. "Welcome home, sweetheart."
"Mum?" I blinked, surprised. "You're home early."
She nodded, patting the seat next to her. "No I didn't go to the office today, I also wanted to talk to you before your father gets back."
That alone made my heart race a little. I dropped my school bag on the armchair and sat down slowly. "What's going on?"
She hesitated before speaking. "Sweetheart, I know things have been unsettling lately. You've been trying to stay strong, but I can't ignore what's happening around us anymore."
I frowned.
She took my hand gently. "I've reached out to some of the Modeling agencies there. Remember the ones who showed interest after your last shoot? They're willing to meet with you earlier than planned if you come in the next two weeks.They said it's a good time to start."
I felt my chest tighten. "Wait….you talked to them? Without even asking me?"
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "I had to make sure there was something for you to look forward to. I didn't want you to feel like I was just sending you away. This way, you can start building something for yourself. Safely."
I shook my head slowly, my voice trembling. "Mum, I don't want to leave yet. You and Dad are here, and I just… I want a little more time with both of you. Everything's been so tense lately, and I don't want my last memories here to feel like this."
She turned fully toward me and took my hands in hers. "Azalea, this isn't about disappearing. It's about protecting you. Your father and I can handle everything else, but I need to know you're far from danger."
Tears stung the back of my eyes as I looked away. "So that's it? You've already made the plans?"
She hesitated before nodding. "Yes. Your flight is in two weeks." She paused, squeezing my hands gently. "Your father already prepared the mansion where you'll be staying as soon as you get there. It's in a quiet part of the city secure, private, and fully staffed. You'll be comfortable."
I blinked hard, trying to process it all. A mansion. Agents. A flight in two weeks. Everything sounded so planned out, like the decision had been made long before this conversation even started.
My voice came out smaller than I wanted. "You both already decided this without me, didn't you?"
Her eyes softened. "We did what we thought was best, love. I know it feels unfair, but sometimes the hardest decisions are the right ones."
I let out a shaky breath, fighting the urge to cry. "It just feels like running away."
"Maybe it is," she whispered. "But sometimes, running keeps you alive."
Her words lingered long after she left the room, and as I sat there staring at the soft glow of the evening sun on the marble floor, it hit me
In two weeks, I'd be gone.
New York. A mansion which is fully staffed both with servants and guards. Modeling agents.
It all sounded like a dream, but right then, it felt nothing like one.
It felt like goodbye.
Days had passed since Lila's disappearance, and the police searched tirelessly for any trace of her. Her mother had stopped eating, stopped sleeping her entire world now revolved around the sound of the phone and the sight of the front gate. Every time a car slowed down outside, she rushed to the window, hoping it was the police bringing her daughter home. Every unanswered ring made her heart ache even more, yet she couldn't stop waiting, couldn't stop believing that any moment, she'd hear the words she longed for "We found her." However on the hand, Azalea have been missing her best friend, even though sometimes Lila was annoying she missed her so much. This also made her feel so sad cause she would be going to New York soon without getting to say goodbye to her friend whom she loves and cares about so much.
One day, after Nolan reviewed the final pages of a new contract, his focus sharp despite the tension around him.
A knock came at the door.
"Come in," he said.
Emily stepped in. "Sir, someone's here to see you they said they're the ones who proposed the contract."
"Send them in," Nolan replied.
After some while, A young man walked in, followed by his associate. He was tall, with jet-black hair, broad shoulders, and a calm, commanding presence. His black shirt, neatly ironed with a few buttons undone, revealed a glimpse of his chest; paired with black trousers, he looked effortlessly confident. While the other man who trailed behind him was so silent and observant, stayed a step behind him.
Nolan's gaze lifted from the papers on his desk, his words catching in his throat the moment their eyes met. The young man's face stirred something in him a sharp flicker of recognition he couldn't immediately place.
Aiden stopped a few feet from the desk, a faint, almost polite smile plastered on his lips. "Mr. Nolan," he greeted, his tone smooth and deliberate. "It's good to finally meet the man behind the contract."
Nolan forced a thin smile, gesturing for them to sit. "And you are?" He asked.
"Aiden," he replied calmly. "And this is Kent. I thought it was time we met in person."
The room fell silent, tension quietly settling between them.
Nolan's brows furrowed as realization dawned on him. "Wait" he murmured, his voice low. "You're Timothy's son." He said Hesitantly.
Aiden's smile didn't fade, but the warmth in it vanished. "So you do remember."
Nolan's grip on his pen tightened, his throat dry. But he still kept the cold expression on his face "What exactly do you want from me?"
Aiden took a slow step forward, his tone steady, every word precise. "Let's just say… I'm here to make sure you pay back what you owe."
After Aiden said these words, Nolan tried to keep is expression still cold and calm rather is expression hardened and his pulse betrayed him, beating fast beneath his calm exterior. "I don't know what you are talking about," he said, his voice clipped but uneasy.
Aiden tilted his head slightly, studying him like one would study a liar who wasn't worth the effort of arguing with. "You don't have to," he replied softly. "The truth always has a way of resurfacing… even after years of being buried."
Kent remained still, his sharp gaze looking briefly around the room before settling back on Nolan. The silence stretched thin.
"I'm not here to cause a scene," Aiden continued, his tone smooth but cold, the kind of calm that carried quiet threat. "For now, let's just consider this" he paused, the faintest smirk touching his lips "a friendly introduction."
The words hung in the air like smoke, slow and poisonous.
Aiden turned toward the door, his shoes clicking softly against the marble floor. Kent followed closely behind, his silence unnerving the kind of silence that made a man's thoughts louder than they should be. Aiden didn't look back, didn't need to. His presence lingered even after he stepped out.
The door closed with a soft click.
Nolan sat frozen, his eyes still fixed on the space where Aiden had stood. For a few seconds, he didn't move couldn't. Then, almost involuntarily, he exhaled, the sound trembling through the quiet room. He pressed both palms against his desk, trying to steady himself, but his fingers wouldn't stop shaking.
The air felt different now heavier, thicker, as though Aiden had left part of his darkness behind. Even the hum of the air conditioner seemed distant, muffled by the pounding in Nolan's ears.
He'd thought he buried that name. That memory. That night.
But it had found its way back wearing Timothy's eyes.
Nolan sank back into his chair, his mind spinning. He told himself it was just business, that Aiden couldn't possibly know the truth. But the way Aiden had looked at him with quiet certainty, with restrained hatred it told him otherwise.
He ran a hand over his face, trying to suppress the growing unease in his chest. But the fear wouldn't go away it crept in slowly, wrapping around him like a memory he could no longer deny.
For the first time in years, Nolan felt it again the same cold, suffocating fear he thought he'd buried with Timothy.