I didn't even recognize my own heartbeat anymore. It wasn't a heartbeat, it was a drum, a thundercloud rumbling inside my chest, shaking my whole body.
As I reached the refrigerator, I stopped just before stepping on the blood. I couldn't leave any trace. If Carlos saw my footprints leading here…
I took a deep breath and positioned myself beside the fridge, carefully avoiding the blood. My fingers wrapped around the handle. It was cold, almost freezing against my skin.
I pulled.
Nothing.
I pulled again, harder this time.
It wouldn't budge. It was stuck. Or… locked.
A sharp chill ran down my spine. Why would a refrigerator be locked?
Suddenly, a sound echoed through the house. A faint but unmistakable noise, coming from the direction of the front door.
My breath hitched. My body froze.
*He's back.*
A cold wave of panic rushed through me, paralyzing my thoughts. My fingers slipped from the refrigerator handle as I took an unsteady step back. My mind screamed at me to move, to hide, to do *something*, but I couldn't think.
My chest tightened. My hands felt clammy. *What should I do?*
For a moment, my thoughts spiraled into chaos. Should I rush back to my chair and pretend I hadn't moved? Should I try to run? But the door was locked. *I'm trapped.*
My legs felt weak, my breath shaky. Every second stretched longer than the last as the sound of footsteps grew closer.
-
"Sir…!"
"Sir… are you okay?"
A voice pulled me back. My vision was blurry for a moment. I blinked and adjusted my glasses, trying to gather my thoughts.
The cold sweat on my palms, the tightness in my chest, it all felt so real. But as my surroundings came into focus, I realized the truth.
I wasn't in that house. I wasn't that scared boy anymore.
I was here.
Sitting in my office.
I exhaled slowly, grounding myself in the present. My fingers pressed against the smooth surface of the desk, reassuring me that this was real. That the past was over.
I looked up at the person standing beside me, concern clear in their eyes.
"I'm fine," I said, my voice calmer than I expected.
But deep inside, I knew, some memories never really fade.
I again looked up at the person standing beside me, It was Alice, my assistant. She stood beside me, concern still lingering in her expression.
I straightened up in my chair, adjusting my tie as I tried to shake off the remnants of the memory.
"Yes, Alice? What happened?" I asked, my voice steadier now.
She adjusted her glasses before answering, her tone professional yet urgent.
"Sir, your mother - Madam Amanda - just called. She said you weren't picking up. She wants you to get back home right away."
She hesitated for a moment before adding, "It's an emergency."
My fingers instinctively curled into a fist. *An emergency?*
The past was already haunting me. And now, the present was knocking on my door.
I reached for my phone, my fingers tightening around it as I glanced at the screen. My chest grew heavier when I saw the notifications, multiple missed calls. Not just from Amanda, but also from my wife, Ann.
Amanda had adopted me years ago, pulling me out of the life I once knew and giving me a place in her family. But she hadn't just given me a home, she had given me a future. She had molded me into the man I was today.
And then, two years ago, she had arranged my marriage to her daughter, Ann. It was an expectation, something she had always planned. And though I never fought against it, I had never truly *chosen* it either.
Yet, despite everything, I could never see Amanda as anything less than my mother. She raised me, shaped me, gave me a name that meant something in this world. And in her eyes, I was truly her son. Not just an adopted child, not just the man she had chosen for Ann, but her *own.*
It was the same for me. No matter the circumstances, she was *my* mother.
I took a deep breath, my thumb hovering over the call log. Whatever this emergency was, it had both Amanda and Ann worried enough to call me repeatedly.
I straightened my posture and looked at Alice. "Get the car ready."
She gave a quick nod and hurried out.
I exhaled slowly, bracing myself.
Whatever was waiting for me at home, it wasn't good.
I sat there for a moment, lost in thought.
Compared to the life I had once lived on the streets, this was *heaven.* A life of warmth, security, and power, things I could only dream about as a child. Back then, survival was my only goal. Now, I was surrounded by luxury, respected by society, and held a name that carried weight.
It was almost laughable.
It felt like I had stepped into a different world altogether. Like I had somehow become part of a *royal family.*
Oh, wait… that's exactly what happened.
Amanda had made sure of that.
I exhaled, running a hand over my face. Whatever this emergency was, it had both Amanda and Ann frantic. And knowing them, it wasn't something small.
I had a pretty good idea of what this was all about.
I needed to go home.
I walked out of my office and entered the private elevator. The sleek, polished interior reflected my own image back at me as I stood in the center.
"Zero," I said, my voice steady.
With a soft beep, the doors slid shut, and the elevator began its descent. The ride was smooth, almost too smooth, silent, efficient, almost unnatural.
Within seconds, the doors opened to the ground floor.
Standing just outside was my driver, waiting with an urgent expression. His posture was stiff, his eyes sharp, he was in a hurry.
He wanted me to follow him immediately.
But I didn't rush.
I walked at my own pace.