Araceli's Pov
My kitchen felt suffocating as I slurped down the last of my instant noodles. Hunger had won the war against dignity tonight. I dropped the empty bowl into the sink, ignoring the pile of dishes that had accumulated. My body was too drained to care, I can sort it out later. Sinking into my couch, I tried to distract myself with another episode of Love*****d, but my mind had other plans. His face, Mr. Stranger, kept creeping into my thoughts. His piercing gaze, the way he carried himself, his confidence, the air of authority that seemed to be flowing out of him, even in a dingy club like that... Who is he? What was he doing in a place that is clearly out of standard for him? His presence had done something to me, flipping a switch I didn’t know existed. On stage, his eyes had locked onto mine, and for a moment, I had felt like the only person in the room. I can't deny the little part of me that hoped he was pleased with my move. And then he had walked up on stage. That memory made my cheeks heat up. I shook my head to stop the blush from spreading so much on my cheeks. The way he had commanded my space, the silly temptation to feel his lips on mine... it was enough to drive me insane. Tony has been on my neck about him showing up again, and Ellen wouldn't stop teasing me about "Mr Handsome." She thinks I have a future with him. “Get it together, Araceli,” I muttered to myself, dragging my legs off the couch. I need a nap, but first, I have to shower. After a quick bath, I threw on an oversized, faded polo and collapsed onto my bed. The second my head but the pillow, I was out like a light. **** The shrill ringtone jolted me awake. Groaning, I squinted at the brightness of my phone screen. Doctor Michael. My heart dropped. Why was he calling this early? Sleep disappeared instantly, replaced by the cold familiar feeling of dread. I swiped my finger across the screen, “Hello?” I answered, my voice scratchy. “Araceli, how are you?” His tone was gentle, too gentle. “What’s going on, Doctor?” I cut straight to the point, bracing myself for any news. There was a pause on the other end, and I could almost hear him drawing a breath. “It’s your mother. She’s not doing well.” “What do you mean? She was fine the last time I visited,” I argued, clutching the phone tightly. “She was making progress, but her condition has taken a turn for the worse. Araceli…” His voice faltered. “We need to talk about her life support. I think it’s time to let her go.” The words hit like a punch. “No. No way. I’m not killing my mother!” My voice cracked, tears streaming down my face. “You have done everything you can. You have gone above and beyond. Maybe it’s time to focus on yourself,” he urged. “No!” The word came out before I could stop it, my lips trembling as tears didn't stop flowing down my cheeks “You can’t ask me to do that. She’s my mother!” “I understand how you feel, but Araceli,…” “No, you don’t!” Tears streamed down my face. “I’m not killing my mom, Doctor.” “You are not killing her,” he said softly. “You have done so much, more than anyone your age should have to. Maybe it’s time to let go and live for yourself instead. Travel, explore life, go have adventures.” “I don’t care what you think. You are not taking her off that machine. I will find the money for the next round of treatment. Don’t you dare touch her without my consent!” A heavy silence stretched between us before he sighed. “The next round of treatment is due in three weeks. It’s expensive, Araceli. I hate to ask, but it’s her best chance.” I glanced at the calendar, the date circled in blue marker staring back at me like a ticking time bomb. My throat tightened. He sighed again. “I hope you will reconsider. Call me if you need to talk. Bye Araceli.” By morning, I was out the door, dressed in an ill-fitting blazer but determined to find a job, any job. After a string of failed interviews, my confidence began to wear thin. My resume, full of ballet and theater, was a joke in the corporate world. But I couldn’t give up. Not when my mom’s life depended on it. Finally, I stood before a gleaming skyscraper. ‘Monolith Enterprises Inc.’ The name was bold on the glass, as if daring me to walk away. It was ridiculous, applying to the top-rated company in the city with my lack of credentials. But desperation was eating at me. "This is very foolish Araceli." Swallowing the lump in my throat, I walked into the building, trying my hardest to fit in. The receptionist, a woman with a perfect face and a nametag that read ‘Valerie’ didn’t bother hiding her disdain. “You are late for the interview,” she said, looking me up and down like I was gum on her shoe. “I…I didn’t know there was a scheduled time.” I stammered. She rolled her eyes “Take a seat,” she snapped, gesturing to a row of chairs where three impeccably dressed women sat. They looked like they belonged here, poised, polished, and oozing confidence. I swallowed my nerves and took one of the empty seats, feeling smaller with every passing second and more aware of my worn outfit and sweaty palms. When my turn finally came, I walked into the office, only to freeze in shock. It was him. Mr. Stranger. On the nameplate on his desk, “Zayn Vanderbilt, CEO of Monolith Enterprises Inc.” was boldy written on it. My heart dropped. Why him of all people? He looked up, his piercing blue eyes locking onto mine. “Are you here for an interview or just to stare at me?” he asked, voice cold and sharp. I snapped out of it, fumbling to hand over my file. He flipped through it, his frown deepening with each page. “Do I look like a joke to you?” he asked, shoving the file back toward me. “Am I supposed to hire you based on this?” His voice thundered through the room, but I refused to back down. “I may not meet your standards on paper, but I can assure you, there’s no one better for this job than me. Give me a chance, and I will prove to you that I’m the best person for this job.” He leaned back in his chair, studying me like I was some kind of puzzle he wants to figure out. “What’s your name?” he asked finally. “Araceli Wilson.” He glanced at a book on his desk. “You are not on the interview list. When was your appointment scheduled?” “I... I didn’t have one.” I admitted. His expression hardened. “So, not only are you unqualified, but you also had the audacity to walk in here without an appointment.” He clinched his fist, mumbling something about “dealing with the security team” “I need this job, Mr. Vanderbilt,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me. “Please, just give me a chance.” For a moment, he said nothing, his sharp gaze pinned on me. Finally, he leaned forward. “You are not what I’m looking for,” he said bluntly. “Try somewhere else.” I left the office with my head held high, refusing to let him see how much his rejection stung. Back in my apartment, I collapsed onto my bed, tears spilling over. I felt lost, I have no idea on what next to do. The weight of everything, my mother, the rejection, my dwindling savings, it all felt too much to bear. An email notification buzzed on my phone. Wiping my eyes, I opened it. “Be in my office at 8:00 AM on Monday morning.” My heart stopped. What?Araceli's PovI lost track of how long I have been lying on my back. The floor underneath me was hard and cold, and every inch of my body ached. My hair was a mess, stuck to my sweaty face, and my white robe was no longer white, it was stained with blood, dirt, and something sticky I did not want to think about. It hurt to even breathe. I closed my eyes, wishing the pain would go away. Suddenly, I heard people shouting somewhere far down the hall. Heavy boots slamming against the floors and doors crashing open. "Maybe I'm dreaming."I muttered to myself. But then I heard someone yelling my name. I forced my eyes open, my heart pounding even though I could barely move. The door to my cell swung open so hard it banged against the wall. And standing there, like someone who fought his way through hell to get to me, was Zayn. He looked different. His eyes were crazy wide, his chest rising and falling like he had been running forever. "Araceli!" he shouted
Araceli's Pov The rain hit the windshield as I drove faster. The wipers worked their hardest, but it was still hard to see. I could hear small groans from the back seat. I looked away from the road for just a second. My mom was there, shivering under a blue blanket, trying to stay warm. "Please hang on, Mom. I will get us to a motel soon. I will get you some medicine," I said. Sweat stuck my curly hair to my face. My hands were wet on the steering wheel. I pressed the gas harder, wanting to go faster. "Water..." my mom whispered. "Water, Ara." I leaned over a little, stretching my hand to grab the water bottle on the floor of the passenger seat. My other hand stayed on the wheel. I touched the bottle first with my fingertips, then grabbed it fully. I quickly sat back up and passed the bottle to her while keeping my eyes on the road. In the rearview mirror, I watched her struggle to open the cap. Her hands were shaking so badly, my heart broke at the sight. Tears burned the b
Zayn's Pov (Lengthy chapter) After the call, I could not sit still. Araceli's voice stayed in my head. She was scared. The sound of her yelling replayed in my head on loop. She had scream something along the line of her father before the call ended and that's all the clue I needed. That was it, no more guessing. It was not Freya or Caleb. It was Victor, her father. The one she feared and never wanted to speak about. I can still remember the night she woke up after having a nightmare about him. I left my office and walked fast to the security room. My heart was beating hard, and fast. A lingering feeling of fear tried to crawl up my spine but I pushed it back down. When I got there, three men were watching the cameras. "Pull up all security footage from the last three weeks," I said, walking straight in. They all looked up from their monitors. "Right away, sir," said Jerry, the one with the medicated glasses. He always wore them because he had a bad eye from an ol
Zayn's POV "Sir," my P.A called, stretching my phone out to me. "Your phone has been ringing for over an hour now. I think it's really urgent." I took the phone from her. It was my home line. "How many times do I have to tell you? If there's a call from home, no matter what, give it to me right away." "Sorry, Sir. I didn’t want to interrupt." I clicked on the screen and picked the call. "Yes?" The voice on the other end was shaking. "Mr. Vanderbilt, it's Araceli, Sir. She’s gone." I stood still. My heart dropped. "Gone? What do you mean gone?" "She was kidnapped, Sir. We were knocked out. I just woke up. The kids are here, but she’s not in the house." I didn’t wait for more. I rushed out of the room, ignoring the looks and questions. My driver saw me and didn’t ask questions. "To the airport, now." I said. The ride back felt to the airport was antagonizing. I kept calling Araceli’s phone, but there was no answer. It was switched off. When we got to the airpor
Araceli's Pov I opened my eyes slowly. The sun was just rising, painting the room in a soft orange glow. Zayn’s arm was wrapped around my waist, and I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. I didn’t move. I didn’t want to. This moment felt peaceful, like nothing else in the world mattered. He shifted behind me and kissed my shoulder. “You awake?” “Yeah,” I whispered, smiling. “Mmm. Good. I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye.” I turned to face him. “You are still going?” He nodded. “Yeah, the flight is in a few hours. I have to be at the airport soon.” I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Can’t you cancel it?” He chuckled. “Business doesn’t wait, baby.” I sighed. “Fine. But let me help you pack.” We both got up slowly. I pulled on a robe and tied it around my waist. He walked to the closet, pulling out a few shirts and slacks. I joined him, folding things into his suitcase on the bed. “How many days will you be gone?” “Just four days, mi amor.” “Four days is
Araceli's Pov I leaned over Zayn, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. He did not stir. His face looked so peaceful when he slept. I smiled to myself and pulled the covers up around him a little more before tiptoeing out of the room. I checked on the kids first. Kamila was wrapped up in her unicorn blanket, her mouth slightly open as she snored quietly. Kamrin, on the other hand, had kicked his covers off and lay sideways on the bed like he had tossed and turned all night. I shook my head and gently pulled the covers over him. He grumbled a little but settled down. Downstairs, I got started on breakfast. The smell of pancakes and eggs filled the air. "Good morning mummy." I turned to find the twins coming downstairs, sleepy-eyed and smiling. "Good morning my love." I rinsed my hand before drying it with a napkin as I walked toward them. "How did my babies sleep?" "I dreamt of princess Elsa, mummy." Kamila exclaimed, smiling like she was given the biggest candy ever.