The sun began to set, casting a warm orange glow across the sky as darkness slowly enveloped the world. The Moon emerged, its ethereal light painting the night with a touch of enchantment.
I sat wearily in front of the mirror, my hand growing tired from the repetitive motion of combing my hair. Frustration washed over me, and I let my hand drop onto the dressing table, feeling completely drained.
"Need a hand?" he asked, stepping closer to me.
I looked up at him with surprise as he reached out to take the comb from my grasp.
Was he offering to help me? It felt surreal, like a strange dream. But there he was, standing right behind me, his gaze meeting mine through the mirror. My heart skipped a beat, but I swallowed hard, determined not to let my emotions show.
He took hold of the comb and gently began running it through my hair, his touch tender and delicate as he smoothed it down.
I had never expected him to be so gentle with me. It made me wonder if he had bumped his head or something because this was not how he usually treated me.
"Anna," he murmured, his voice barely audible, sending a flurry of butterflies dancing in my stomach. Hearing him say my name was something entirely new, sending shivers of delight down my spine.
"Yes?" I whispered, my voice barely above a breath.
"You have beautiful hair," he whispered, surprising me. I turned to look at myself in the mirror, my face flushing with a rosy hue.
He had never openly complimented my beauty before, even though he had silently admired me. He would keep his thoughts hidden, locked away in his mind. But tonight, he chose to praise my raven-dark hair, comparing it to the midnight sky and silk.
My hair flowed like liquid, soothing and calming to the touch. He seemed to want to run his fingers through it for an eternity. He tied my hair back in a neat braid, securing it with a hair tie he found, all the while gazing at me through the mirror.
"Done," he said, dropping the comb and heading straight for the bed.
"Thank you," I whispered, but received no reply.
I stood up and shook my head, noticing the braid swaying gently from side to side.
I felt an overwhelming sense of happiness. My hair was now secure, and I wouldn't have to sleep with it loose tonight.
*****
The night sky shimmered with a tapestry of twinkling stars, creating a celestial spectacle. The radiant lights of the city below added to the captivating nocturnal display.
A woman stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of her penthouse, a glass of wine in hand, gazing out at the world beyond. She longed to step outside, to feel the gentle breeze caress her skin and witness the stars up close. But her opulent home, heavily guarded, kept her confined within its walls.
"Ma'am, I have some news for you," her secretary informed, prompting the woman to turn and take a seat on the nearby couch.
"What news do you have for me?" the woman inquired, her expression filled with curiosity.
"Here are the papers, ma'am," her secretary said, handing over a stack of white sheets fastened together.
The woman's eyes scanned the pages, struggling to comprehend their contents.
"What does it say? I'm having trouble understanding," she said, her confusion evident as she feared the worst.
"It's from the old master," her secretary replied.
"The old master? What does he want?" the woman questioned.
"He wants you to hand over Dè Villa World and submit your resignation letter to the board," her secretary explained.
"What?! Why? Why would he ask me to do that?" the woman exclaimed, her hands trembling and her body overcome with shock.
"Someone sent him a growth report on the company, and he noticed a significant decline. He wants you to resign as soon as possible," her secretary calmly revealed.
"Who? Who is behind this? I will find that person and make their life a living hell," the woman declared, her anger flaring.
"Arrange a meeting with the old man for me," she demanded, and her secretary nodded before leaving the room.
That old man, clinging to power even in his old age. It wouldn't hurt to expedite his departure from this world, she thought, a wicked smile curling at the corners of her lips.
But first, she needed to make a call to her son.
She walked over to the table, picked up her phone, and dialed her son's number.
******
His phone rang, and he lazily reached over to the nightstand to pick it up.
Once he saw his mother's name on the screen, he promptly declined the call.
He didn't have the energy to deal with her, and he didn't want her to ruin his good mood tonight.
Ignoring the persistent ringing, he let the call go unanswered.
"I think someoneis trying to reach you," Anna said, her voice filled with sleepiness.
He gazed at her for a few moments, making her wonder if she had said something wrong.
"I'm sorry," she murmured and drifted back to sleep.
He stood up, grabbed his phone, and walked out of the room, finding a seat on the patio outside the mansion. He wanted to shield Anna from whatever his mother would unleash.
Reluctantly, he answered the call, bracing himself for the impending storm.
"Mother," he said, his tone filled with resignation.