As I stepped out of the hospital, the bright sunlight made me blink. Anderson's arm wrapped gently around my shoulders, guiding me towards the waiting car. I felt a mix of relief and trepidation, unsure of what lay ahead.
The drive was smooth and quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of the engine and the occasional seagull cry. My eyes drifted shut, exhaustion and emotion catching up with me.
When I opened my eyes again, I was startled to find myself in front of a stunning beachside mansion. The house was a masterpiece of modern architecture, with sleek lines, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a rooftop deck that seemed to disappear into the sky.
My jaw dropped as I took in the breathtaking view. "Where are we?" I asked Anderson, my voice barely above a whisper.
Anderson smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I brought you here so you can unwind and think about what you want to do next," he said, helping me out of the car.
As we stepped inside, I gasped in wonder. The interior was just as exquisite as the exterior, with polished marble floors, crystal chandeliers, and plush furnishings in soothing shades of white and cream.
The walls were adorned with stunning artwork, and the air was filled with the sweet scent of fresh flowers. I felt like I'd stepped into a dream world, one where my troubles seemed to fade away with each passing moment.
Anderson led me to the rooftop deck, where a warm breeze carried the sound of waves crashing against the shore. I closed my eyes, feeling the sun's gentle warmth on my skin, and let out a deep sigh.
For the first time in weeks, I felt a sense of peace, a sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something new, something beautiful.
As I settled into my new surroundings, Anderson showed me to my room, a serene oasis with a plush bed and a balcony overlooking the ocean. I felt a sense of gratitude towards him, but he just smiled and told me to rest.
Later that evening, I heard a gentle knock on my door. "Dinner's ready," Anderson called out.
I made my way to the dining area, where Anderson had set up a beautiful table with fine china and candles. The aroma of roasted vegetables and grilled chicken filled the air, making my stomach growl with hunger.
Anderson smiled as I took a seat. "I hope you're hungry. I cooked your favorite – chicken parmesan."
I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Sir, You can cook?"
Anderson chuckled. "I have many hidden talents, Lyra."
As we sat down to eat, Anderson poured me a glass of juice, and I noticed he had initially picked up a bottle of wine. "I forgot," he said, smiling wryly. "You can't have wine right now."
I smiled, touched by his thoughtfulness.
After dinner, we sat down in the living room, and Anderson turned to me with a serious expression. "Lyra, I want you to know that you can trust me. I already know what happened, but I want to hear it from you. I want you to be open with me."
I felt a lump form in my throat as I looked at Anderson. There was something in his eyes that made me feel safe, like I could tell him anything.
"Thank you, Sir Anderson," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "Just thank you." It has been a long time I had this feeling towards anyone. A feeling that I was loved and cared by someone but I hesitated, my heart racing with fear. Could I really trust him? But as I looked into his warm, gentle eyes, I felt a sense of calm wash over me.
Anderson took my hand, his touch sending a surge of comfort through me. "Lyra, I want you to know that I'm here for you. You can trust me. I already know some of what happened. I know you were sent to Reginald's house to gather information, but...how did you end up pregnant?"
His voice was soft, non-judgmental, but I could sense the concern behind his words. I felt a lump form in my throat as I struggled to hold back tears.
Anderson's grip on my hand tightened. "Lyra, I've seen the pictures. I know you were hurt. Did Reginald...did he assault you?"
The words cut through me like a knife, and I felt myself shatter. Tears poured down my face as I sobbed uncontrollably. Anderson didn't say a word; he just scooped me into his arms and held me close.
"It's okay, Lyra," he whispered, his voice a soothing balm to my shattered soul. "I'm here for you. I'll take care of you. We'll get through this together."
As I cried, Anderson gently patted my head, his touch sending waves of calm through me. For the first time in weeks, I felt a sense of safety, of being protected. And in that moment, I knew I could trust Anderson with my secrets, with my heart.
As I cried, Anderson held me close, his arms wrapped tightly around me. I felt his warmth, his solid presence, and it was like a balm to my shattered soul.
After a while, my tears slowed, and I pulled back, feeling a little embarrassed. Anderson smiled softly and handed me a tissue.
"Feel better?" he asked, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
I nodded, blowing my nose. "Yeah. Sorry about that."
Anderson's expression turned serious. "Don't apologize, Lyra. You've been through a lot. You deserve to cry, to scream, to feel whatever you need to feel."
His words touched something deep within me, and I felt a surge of gratitude towards him.
As we sat there, Anderson reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. The touch sent shivers down my spine, but it was a good kind of shiver.
"Thank you, Anderson," I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Anderson smiled, his eyes warm. "Anytime, Lyra. I'm here for you."
In that moment, I felt a connection with Anderson that went beyond mere gratitude. It was as if we'd crossed a threshold, into a place where we could be vulnerable, open, and honest with each other.
As the night wore on, he made us some tea, and we sat on the couch, sipping our drinks in comfortable silence.
Every now and then, he would reach out and touch my hand, or brush a strand of hair behind my ear. The touches were small, but they spoke volumes about his care, his concern, and his growing feelings for me.
I couldn't help but feel drawn to him, to his kindness, his empathy, and his gentle strength.
As the night drew to a close, he walked me to my room, his arm around my shoulders.
"Sleep tight, Lyra," he whispered, his breath warm against my ear.
I smiled, feeling a sense of peace wash over me. "You too, Sir.....Anderson."
As I drifted off to sleep, I felt a sense of hope, of possibility. Maybe, just maybe, I'd found a true friend, a confidant, and something more in Anderson.
I woke up early the next morning, feeling a sense of restlessness. The events of the previous day still lingered in my mind, and I couldn't shake off the feeling of uncertainty.
I decided to take a walk along the beach, hoping the fresh air and the sound of the waves would clear my head. As I walked, I thought about the baby growing inside me. What did I want to do? Should I notify Reginald about the pregnancy? Should I keep the baby or consider abortion?
The questions swirled in my mind, and I felt overwhelmed. I stopped walking and stood at the water's edge, staring out at the horizon.
Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to see Anderson running towards me, his face pale and worried.
"Lyra, what were you thinking?" he exclaimed, out of breath. "I woke up, and you were gone. I thought...I thought something had happened to you."
I felt a pang of guilt, realizing I had worried him. "I'm sorry, Sir. I just needed some fresh air."
Anderson's expression softened, but his eyes still held a hint of concern. "You should have told me where you were going. I was scared to death when I couldn't find you."
I nodded, feeling a little chastised. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
Anderson's gaze held mine for a moment, and then he nodded. "Okay. Let's get back to the house. We can talk more about...everything and like I've said before call me Anderson" he said and I nodded
As we walked back, Anderson's arm brushed against mine, and I felt a spark of electricity. I looked up at him, and our eyes met. For a moment, we just stared at each other, the tension between us palpable.
As we walked back to the house, Anderson suggested making breakfast. I offered to help, but he refused, telling me to just sit and watch him. I wanted to protest, but Anderson was adamant.
"Relax, Lyra," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "You're supposed to be taking it easy, remember?"
I nodded, feeling a little indulged. Anderson moved efficiently around the kitchen, whipping up a fluffy omelette and crispy bacon.
After breakfast, Anderson brought out a puzzle game, and we spent the morning playing together. He was patient and kind, explaining the rules and helping me when I got stuck.
As the days passed, our routine fell into a comfortable rhythm. Anderson took care of me, making sure I ate well, rested, and didn't worry about anything.
He was good to me, always looking out for my well-being. We'd take long walks on the beach, watch sunsets together, and just enjoy each other's company.
Anderson's presence was a balm to my soul, soothing my fears and anxieties. For the first time in months, I felt like I could breathe again, like I wasn't alone in this journey.
As I looked at Anderson, I felt a sense of gratitude and affection. He'd become more than just a friend or a protector; he'd become my safe haven.
As the days turned into weeks, I began to feel the physical changes of pregnancy more pronounced. My body was transforming, and I was struggling to come to terms with it.
Anderson noticed my mood swings and always comforted and reassured me. "We'll face this together, Lyra. We'll figure out what's best for you and the baby." He'll always say.
As my pregnancy progressed, Anderson took on more responsibilities, ensuring I ate well, exercised, and got enough rest. He even accompanied me to my first prenatal appointment, holding my hand through each one. I was more than grateful to him.Here's the revised scene:
One days as I settled into the plush couch, cradling my book in my lap. Anderson had gone out to buy some supplies, leaving me alone to relax. The warm sun streaming through the windows and the sound of the waves outside created a soothing atmosphere.
Just as I was getting engrossed in my book, I heard the sound of cars pulling up outside. I frowned, wondering who it could be. We were supposed to be hiding out here, away from prying eyes.
I set my book aside and walked to the window, peeking out from behind the curtains. My heart sank as I saw Mrs. Smith and James stepping out of their cars, accompanied by their bodyguards.
What were they doing here?
I felt a surge of panic, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. Anderson had specifically chosen this location because it was secluded and safe.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. Maybe they were just passing by and saw the house. Maybe they didn't know Anderson and I were hiding out here.
But as I watched them approach the house, I knew I was kidding myself. They were here for a reason, and I had a feeling it wasn't good.
I grabbed my phone and dialed Anderson's number, my hands shaking as I waited for him to answer.
"Hey, what's up?" Anderson's voice was calm and cheerful, but it immediately turned serious as he sensed my distress. "Lyra, what's wrong?"
"It's your mother and brother," I whispered urgently. "They're here, with their bodyguards. I don't know what they want, but I'm scared, Anderson."
Anderson's voice turned firm and reassuring. "I'm on my way, Lyra. Just stay inside and lock all the doors. Don't let them in, no matter what. I'll be there in 10 minutes, tops."
I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. "Okay...okay, I'll be fine."
Anderson's voice softened. "You're going to be more than fine, Lyra. I'll take care of everything. Just hang in there, okay?"
I took a deep breath, feeling a tiny bit better knowing that Anderson was on his way. But as I looked out the window and saw Mrs. Smith and James waiting impatiently outside, my fear spiked again.
What did they want? And how was Anderson going to protect me from them?
I tried to gather my composure cuz I was panicking. Then I took a deep breath, steeling myself as I opened the door. Mrs. Smith and James stood on the porch, their faces stern and unyielding. I tried to stand up straight, to look confident, but my heart was racing and my palms were sweating.
Mrs. Smith swept past me, her eyes scanning the room before settling on me again. She looked me up and down, her gaze lingering on my stomach.
"Oh," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "So it's true. You're actually pregnant."
I didn't say a word, my eyes fixed on the floor. I could feel James's gaze on me too, but I didn't dare look up.
Mrs. Smith's heels clicked on the floor as she moved closer to me. "We need to talk, Lyra," she said, her voice cold and menacing.
I nodded, still not looking up. I knew I was in trouble, and I had no idea how to get out of it.
Mrs. Smith's voice dripped with venom as she began to belittle me. "You think you can just pin this pregnancy on my son? You think you're clever, don't you? Trying to trap him with a baby?"
Her words cut deep, and I felt my eyes stinging with tears. "How dare you," she spat. "You're nothing but a manipulative little gold-digger. You're not even worthy of being in the same room as my son."
She took a step closer to me, her eyes blazing with anger. "You're just a pathetic little girl who can't even take care of herself. You're going to ruin my son's life with your lies and your...your..." She waved her hand dismissively. "Your bastard child."
Mrs. Smith's voice was laced with venom as she sneered at me. "You think you can just waltz in here, carrying Reginald's child, and manipulate my son to take responsibility for it?"
She took another step closer, her eyes blazing with anger. "I know the truth, Lyra. I know Reginald is the father. And I'm giving you two options: you can either get rid of the child or go back to Reginald. At least you might get a chance of becoming a member of a prestigious family if you give them a male child or better still be the concubine But you will not impose this pregnancy on my son."
Her words cut deep, and I felt my eyes stinging with tears. "How can you be so cruel?" I whispered.
Mrs. Smith's expression twisted in disgust. "Cruel? You're the one who's being cruel, Lyra. You're the one who's trying to trap my son into taking care of your mistake."
She sneered at me again. "I'm sure you've enjoyed your little taste of luxury and wealth, but let's be real, Lyra. You're just a maid. A servant. You're not meant to live in a world like this. It's time for you to return to your proper place in life."
I felt a surge of anger and humiliation, but before I could respond, Mrs. Smith turned to her bodyguard "Take her away. We'll take her to the hospital and let the doctor proceed with the procedure"
I felt scared and weak in the knees.
But before the bodyguard or James could move, the door burst open and Anderson strode in, his face thunderous. "Mother, What's going on here?" he demanded, as he walked to stand close to me.
Mrs. Smith's face turned red with rage as she raised her hand and slapped Anderson across the face. The sound echoed through the room, and I felt a gasp escape my lips.
"How dare you!" Mrs. Smith spat, her voice venomous. "How dare you try to bring shame onto our family! What are you doing here with this...this...maid?"
She sneered at me, her eyes filled with disgust. "A lowly servant? Is this who you've chosen to associate with? You're disregarding your responsibilities at the company, your responsibilities to our family...and now you want to take care of a bastard child? Take responsibility for something you didn't even do?"
Anderson's face remained calm, but I could see the anger simmering beneath the surface. "Mother, that's enough," he warned.
But Mrs. Smith wouldn't stop. "You're being stupid, Anderson! This isn't love, it's just stupidity! And I won't stand for it! You need to stop this madness right now!"
She turned to me, her eyes cold and calculating. "As for you, Lyra...I'm taking you to the hospital to get rid of that...thing. And if you insist on keeping it, then whoever is responsible for it will take care of it. Not my son."
Anderson's eyes blazed with determination. "Lyra isn't going anywhere, Mother. Whatever she decides to do with the baby is up to her. It's her life, and she gets to choose how it's played out."
Mrs. Smith let out a sarcastic laugh. "Oh, please, Anderson. She doesn't have any rights over her life. But I won't dispute that. Whatever it is that she wants to decide, I've also decided that it must have nothing to do with my son."
James stepped forward, supporting his mother. "Anderson, come on, man. You need to stop being stupid and acting like a teenager in love. Focus on our businesses, focus on making yourself better, building yourself up. Instead of running away with a lonely maid servant."
Anderson's jaw clenched. "Whatever decisions I make are mine to make. Whatever decisions I make in my life are my decisions. And I'm tired of you, Mother, trying to control everything that concerns me and my life."
He took a step forward, his eyes locked on his mother's. "I've decided to be with Lyra, to care for her, to take care of her. And that's final."
But Mrs. Smith wouldn't let him finish. She raised her hand and slapped him again, the sound echoing through the room. "You're going to regret this, Anderson. Mark my words."
Mrs. Smith turned on her heel, her face still twisted in anger. "We're leaving," she spat, striding out of the room with James and the bodyguards following closely behind.
The door slammed shut behind them, leaving Lyra and Anderson in stunned silence.
Anderson was the first to move, he held lyra. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked softly, his eyes scanning her face.
Lyra nodded, still trying to process what had just happened. She was devastated, shocked, and guilty all at once.
She wanted to cry, but the only thing that seemed to be falling apart was her composure. She was surprised that somebody had stood up for her, and that Anderson was willing to fight his family for her.
But at the same time, she felt guilty for putting him in this position. She knew that his family would never approve of their relationship, and now it seemed like they were willing to do whatever it took to keep them apart.
Anderson's eyes locked onto hers, filled with concern and determination. "I'm not going to let them hurt you, Lyra," he promised. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe."