Three years ago

ARICA

Arica stepped down from her private jet feeling overjoyed and content. She had spent the last two years in America shaping her mom's business and she had done an excellent job out of it. 

She had good friends, a seven figure amount in her bank account, a thriving business and a man who loved her deeply, and she was just 25. 

 Now it was time to settle in Italy and build a life with her man. Their long distance relationship has been quite difficult to keep up—with her busy schedules and the difference in time zones, but time and again he had continued to prove his undying love for her.

"Have you reached out to him?" She nodded to the body guard beside her. He was calling her close contacts in Italy to inform them that she was back, she had told no one prior in a bid to surprise them.

'He isn't responding to my calls ma'am'

'What about his social media handles?' she asked as the other bodyguard swung open the door of the stylish BMW for her to enter. 

'Okay, let me try that'.

As the car navigated the streets of Venice, Arica felt a pang of nostalgia hit her. How she loved her home country!

She recognized the cafe she and her man used to patronize frequently during the early years of her relationship, and she smiled to herself at the warm memories. 

The car started pulling along familiar streets and Arica saw the cake and flower shop she and her man usually frequented. 'Stop here'. She commanded the driver. The car abruptly stopped. She brought out a gold card from her purse and handed it to the bodyguard. 'Buy me an almond cake and forest lilies'. Her man's favorite cake and flowers. Yes, he liked flowers. Said it reminded him of his late mother who always smelt like lilies. 

'So?' she turned to her bodyguard holding her phone.

'He hasn't posted or been online for some days now. But his location reads' your mansion at Garden estates'. Home. They had built the mansion together over the years. Their home to be after their wedding. He was home; probably arranging a surprise party for her, not wanting to share details about it online. She shook her head smiling to herself. She had kept her coming back a secret but he would always have a way to find out.

The bodyguard came back with the cake and flowers and 20 minutes later she reached home. Cake and flowers in hand, she reached the front door and noticed the absence of shoes; he and his private party were hiding their shoes so she wouldn't know they were inside. She chuckled to herself. 

The silence that greeted her however when she swung the doors open was deafening, and her smile crumpled.

Her heart raced. Something felt off–it was quiet, too quiet. The scent hit her first–perfume that wasn't hers, a floral oud musk. A blouse and bra lay discarded on the arm rest, lacy and red.

Her breath quickened as she marched up the stairs towards her room. The peace in the still air was shattered by the laughter echoing from her bedroom. The laughter was foreign and female. 

She paused outside her bedroom door, dread inking into her very being. With trembling fingers, she pushed it open a teeny bit and peeped inside.

Her man was on their supposed matrimonial bed affectionately stroking the silk hair of someone else–that wasn't her!

He was saying something and Arica strained her ears to hear. 'Oh, she wouldn't know what hit her. When we get married, I'll work my way to the top of her company, transfer and launder enough funds to carry us for a lifetime, and then we'll both elope to wherever you want, my love. Build a new life and a business there'.

A cold numbness spread through her veins as if her body couldn't decide between fight and flight. She couldn't believe that someone she cherished with her life could say this. He was her teenage sweet heart, they have been together for the past nine years. All those years he showered her with love and care and yet it was the same person who said this.

'I hate her so much, you know,' the woman said. The voice sounded familiar. 'I hate that when papa was alive, papa loved them more than us'. It was her half-sister, Amaris. 'He maltreated us but gave them all the good things in life. We suffered. It's her turn now'.

'She deserves it' he affirmed. 

Arica's chest tightened as she looked down at her engagement ring glittering on her ring finger. She recalled how he'd proposed to her via video call and had the engagement ring flown down the next day to her. It was the most romantic thing in the world. Or so she thought. 

But her half sister wasn't done talking. 'Let's arrange for her mother's death, then destroy her company. It will truly shatter her'. His reply shocked her to the marrow. 'I agree with you. But it will be after the wedding, then our plan of actions will suffice'. A wave of nausea churned her stomach, rising to her throat. What exactly had she done to him to warrant him saying all these hurtful things?

Each forced breath was harder than the last as she tried to calm herself down. Anger coursed through every fiber of her being as she tore the ring off her finger and stuck it on top of the cake she bought for him. She kept it with the flowers on the ground. When he comes out, he'd see it and know she was done with him. 

A storm of emotions–grief, fury and disbelief–ravaged her, all screaming for control. How could the love of her life lie tangled in another arms, talk about destroying her life and all she'd built like it was the most normal thing in the world? As she was about to retract, her foot mistakenly kicked the door open. The two abruptly sat up, eyes widened like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. 

Her eyes flitted from the sweaty bare chest of her fiance and her half sister's bare body that was partly covered by the duvet. Her half sister's shocked face broke into a smile and then a smirk.

Arica's hands clenched into fists, nails digging into her palms. He didn't look guilty, or even sorry. 

He only glared at her like she was a cockroach he would step on for interrupting them. There and then, all the emotions she'd tried to suffocate boiled and bubbled to the surface. She found herself screeching, voice cracking with tears. 'How could you Bryan?

She flung the cake at them. 'How could you?!