Kazia
I'm scrolling through social media reels when I see a new email notification from my father's company… well, former company. It's a notice, cold and formal, informing me to hand over the special home project Since it is under Gratis Empire.
This project was my life's work, a home I built from scratch for children who had nowhere else to go. And now, since my father's company was transferred to Tyson, he wants to take it away from me?
How could he do this? I poured everything into that home, and now they want me to give it up? There's no way I'm going to let that happen.
Anger surges through me, leaving me practically shaking. I feel helpless, wondering if I should go down to the company myself. But what would I say? Beg Tyson not to take it away?
My eyes tear up at the thought of those precious children losing their home. If they take it away, what will I do? We're already barely getting by financially, and this would ruin everything.
Without informing Aidan, I rush out of the house. Since I don't own a car in this house I opt for public transport—My father would be rolling in his grave if he knew his daughter was on a crowded bus, but right now, none of that matters.
I walk up to the company building that used to belong to my father. Determined to see Tyson, I step through the front doors, only to be stopped at the reception desk by Alice, the same receptionist who used to run errands for me back when I worked here.
"Alice?!" I exclaim, stunned to see her.
She lowers her gaze, almost looking embarrassed. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Mr. Gratis gave strict instructions not to let you into the building. Please, don't make this difficult."
I'm not leaving until I see him. I don't care if I never come back here again; I just want Tyson to understand what this project means to me and to those children. Ignoring Alice, I try to move forward, but two security guards stop me, grabbing my arms and dragging me out of the building. I struggle against them, but it's useless. They're rough and unyielding, making every of my attempts to go in futile.
How can people be so heartless? Those children haven't done anything wrong. Why do they have to lose their home because of corporate greed?
I'm still fighting to get back inside when I suddenly feel my arms yanked behind my back. I turn, only to realize I'm being handcuffed—not by the guards, but by police officers.
"Let me go!" I scream, thrashing and trying to break free, but it's no use.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll cooperate and keep your mouth shut," one of the officers growls, gripping my hair and yanking my head back to face him. I glare at him, furious, and in a moment of defiance, I sink my teeth into his jaw as hard as I can.
All I hear is a loud slap, and suddenly, everything goes dark. Stars dance before my eyes as the sting of his slap reverberates through my head. The world fades away as I lose consciousness.
…
The door to my cell creaks open, and a different officer leads me out. My face throbs, and tears sting my eyes.
Through my blurred vision, I see a familiar figure waiting in the hallway—it's Aidan.
He's standing there, watching me with a furrowed brow, clearly angry. Is he upset because I left without telling him?
Aidan steps forward, studying my cheek where the officer slapped me. He gently rubs his thumb across the red mark, making me wince in pain. I pull his hand away, trying to stop him, but he catches my wrist and notices the raw, red marks from the handcuffs.
"Who did this to you?" he asks, his voice barely containing his anger.
At that moment, Leo walks over, joining us. How did they both find me here? I didn't tell anyone where I was going—I don't even know how I got here.
"Which one of the officers slapped her?" he demands, his tone icy.
The officer leading me out tries to defend his colleagues. "Sir, there was a misunderstanding. They didn't know who she was, and things got out of hand—"
"Bring me the one who slapped her," Leo cuts him off.
I'm too shaken to understand what's going on, so I just stand there, silently sobbing. A few moments later, the officer returns with the man who had hit me. Leo asked if he was the one and I nod in confirmation.
In a swift movement, Aidan lunges forward, landing a punch on the officer's face. The officer stumbles backward, hitting the ground with a loud thud.
"Ahhh… Ahhh…" he cries clutching his face in pain.
I gasp in shock, not recognizing this side of Aidan. I didn't know he was capable of such violence.
But Aidan doesn't stop. He moves toward the officer again, delivering punch after punch. I can't bear to watch him like this—it's terrifying.
I rush forward, grabbing his arm in a desperate attempt to pull him back, but it's as if he doesn't even feel me.
"Aidan, please, stop!" I cry, my voice shaking. Hot tears spill down my cheeks as I plead with him. He's scaring me, and I don't want him to get in trouble because of me.
I glance around, expecting someone—anyone—to step in and stop him. Leo and a few other people are standing nearby, watching with indifferent expressions. Are they all crazy, Why isn't anyone doing anything?
Summoning all my strength, I push against Aidan, trying to wedge myself between him and the officer. "Aidan, please, you have to stop," I sob, barely able to control my own panic.
My push is enough to break through his rage for just a second. He pulls back, breathing heavily, his eyes still filled with a cold fury I've never seen before.
I kneel down and check if the officer is still breathing. Relief floods through me as I feel his faint breath against my fingers—he's alive, but barely conscious.
When I look up, I meet Aidan's gaze, but it's like staring into the eyes of a stranger. His face is set, cold and unyielding, as he watches me. In that moment, I realize there's a side to him that I don't understand, a darkness I never knew he carried. The thought sends a chill down my spine, and I have to look away.
As we leave the station, I feel a mixture of gratitude and fear swirling within me. I'm thankful that Aidan was there to defend me, but at what cost? The violence in his eyes, the way he so easily let his anger consume him—it's a side of him I hope I'll never have to see again.