The beeping sound of the elevator distracted her thoughts yet again.
She vividly remembered the first time she had come here. The elevator had opened, and she had walked out, feeling repulsive with each step she took towards the apartment. After entering the passcode, the one he had asked her to choose three months into the contract, he had wanted her to have access, warning her always to wear a nose mask whenever she visited. Those rules she had adhered to diligently over the years. The door beeped, and it opened. She pushed it open and as she stepped in, the familiar smell of him hit her sense of reasoning, and for some minutes, she felt like breaking down. He had made it clear that it was a contract. A contract with no strings attached. It was so unfair she had to feel this way, and with determination, she decided she was not coming back to his apartment again. The living room was extremely spacious and lively. It used to be gloomy and depressing until she couldn’t bear its emptiness—the exact feelings he had unleashed. With his permission to add some lively touches to the room, she had designed it into the homely look it had now. With a deep sigh, she started by disposing of everything she got, even though he had funded them. After seven hours at work, the house looked as loveless and lonely as when she had first arrived. She remembered his looks that day. There had been a glow of appreciation and warmth, though he had never mentioned it. “Were the changes enough?” was the only thing he had said, a way of saying he approved of the changes. Calista rubbed her hands over her temple, feeling tired yet content with the work she had done. She picked up her phone and pushed out the luggage. All the clothes, jewelry, and bags he had gotten her were all packed in the large bag. Minutes later, she cleaned the room. Satisfied, a sad smile crept onto her lips as she gave the almost barren house a final glance and closed the door behind her. She was selling them off and taking the proceeds to charity. She walked out of the building, giving it a last longing glare as she walked away, her bag filled with money she had gotten from trading the jewelry he had gotten her. She yawned, stretching her tired hands. Her phone beeped, and she reached into her pocket, smiling at the caller ID. “Emily?” she called, feeling warmth despite the odd feelings she had earlier. Her sadness disappeared in no time. “It’s late already, probably 4 pm,” she said, stopping in her tracks. “You found a place already?” “Yes,” Emily replied from across the call. “Your dad is with me. California seemed perfect to start a new life. We saw an apartment that you will like.” A pleasant, appreciative smile crossed her lips as she headed in another direction leading to the charity. She intended to drop off the proceeds she got from trading the jewelry and clothes at the bank before heading to Windsor Law Firm. “I trust you to find the perfect place,” she said, heading towards the cafe across the street. She was about to cross her way to the newly built cafe when she saw him. Her heart stopped as he typed diligently on his laptop. She wondered what he was doing there, and when she caught his lips twitching into a smile, it wasn’t wide enough, but his eyes held amusement. Her heart broke at the scene. “When should I indicate you’re taking up the house, Cal?” Emily asked, her voice braced with eagerness. But Calista couldn’t reply. She felt like she was a failure. She had never seen him laugh, not even the slightest twitch of his lips, nor had she seen him talk heartily the way he was doing now. She twisted her hands as jealousy burned through her. He had moved on quickly. Just yesterday, and he already moved on, laughing as if she never existed. Her eyes tried to scan further to see who he was with, but her tears blurred her vision. He was obviously out with her, the only woman in his heart. “Are you there, Cal?” Emily called. Calista nodded, finding it hard to voice an audible answer. “Calista, I asked when to indicate taking up the house.” “He never takes me out,” she blurted silently, tears flowing down her cheeks. Damn it! The last thing she wanted to do was cry. Why on earth was she crying? “What?” Emily asked, hearing a faint whisper and thinking Calista was talking to her. “Tomorrow, Emily. We’re leaving tonight,” Calista replied, stopping a taxi while tearing her gaze away from the sight. “What?” Emily asked, shocked. “You booked a flight ticket already? When did you do that?” “Now. I’m doing it after the call,” she said, ending the call to prevent further questions from her friend. “Where are we headed, ma’am?” the driver asked, ready to move the car to her destination. “Windsor Law Firm,” she said, putting on her shades. After a few minutes of the ride, the car pulled up in front of the building. She alighted, asking him to wait for a few minutes as she walked into the firm. She entered the elevator, pressed the last floor, indicating Ranya’s office, and just as the door was closing, someone slipped a hand, stopping the elevator from closing on Calista. Her heart jumped, hoping it wasn’t Ranya. He was someone she never wanted to see again. Calista raised her head to see who joined her in the elevator, and a slight “wow” slipped through her mouth as an extremely extravagantly dressed lady stepped in. Her strong perfume filled the confined space of the elevator. She was extremely beautiful, tall, slender, and perfectly curvy. She looked like an actress or some soap opera model. She slightly nodded in acknowledgment at Calista, who reciprocated with a nod. She pressed the last button, the one that housed a penthouse, one Calista had never had the privilege to visit. Maybe she was a family member or sibling. She couldn’t possibly be Vivian. Ranya didn’t like heavy makeup and thick cologne. She must be a distant cousin of some kind. Talking of family, aside from the fact that he was Ranya Windsor, Calista knew nothing about him. To what extent was his discreteness that not even his family background was known on the internet? Or maybe she was so caught up in paying her debt that she had no time to ask and look him up. She didn’t do that when they were together, and she was absolutely not doing that now. After all, he knew nothing about her either, not even her house, something she was utterly grateful for. The beep sound from the elevator distracted her thoughts, and she walked out, bowing slightly at the woman whose eyes were up and glued to her phone. Calista smirked as she walked, envelope in hand, to the secretary. “Arrogance is definitely Ranya’s sibling.” She turned again, but the elevator had already closed. With a slight smile, she walked towards the secretary and handed an envelope to her. *** Lewiston Villa, Texas *** “You’re leaving Texas tonight, Anthony, and that’s final,” Mr. Lewiston said angrily, as he stormed out of his son’s bedroom, with his mother closely behind him. “What?” Anthony, an extremely good-looking guy in his early twenties, exclaimed, looking troubled and unable to come to terms with what his father had just said. “You’re not chasing him away to California because you want your good-for-nothing lawyer son to inherit that company, are you?” Mrs. Carolyn Lewiston barked, shoving her slim body into Mr. Lewiston’s presence. She exuded an air of wealth. Observing her, one might mistake her for being in her mid-thirties. She looked much younger and vibrant. “Are you even listening to yourself, woman?” Mr. Lewiston groaned angrily, pointing his index finger at her. “Would you rather have him stay and do more harm to my political agenda? Haven’t you both caused me too much trouble already?” “Oh!” She laughed scornfully, contempt and anger laced in her voice. “If anyone is causing you trouble, it’s your son who changed his name and status to ridicule you. He stood against you three years ago, and you did nothing... absolutely nothing!” “Watch your tongue, Carolyn. Watch your tongue!” Mr. Lewiston warned, anger surging through him. “I will not have him take up the case. I would rather die than have him defend my son and take the glory.” “Well then, have it all cleared,” he replied, turning towards Anthony, who was already seated on the sofa in the elaborate living room of the villa. “You can sleep, party, and do your filthy acts over there. But don’t return until the election is over. The only way to prove you aren’t the one in those pictures is if you are believed to be out of Texas.” “But, Father...” “Take any money you want,” Mr. Lewiston cut him off, preventing him from saying any further words. “Take whatever you want and get out! I would rather not have a son than have you.”“Mr. Ranya Windsor,” Damian said confidently as he walked towards Ranya, his face no longer masked with anger but replaced with a smile. Ranya looked up from the system as the well-dressed man in a blue suit approached his table.“You’re not kidding me, are you?” Ranya asked, gesturing towards the system on the table. “This is a cafe, not your office.”Ranya scoffed loudly, shaking Damian’s outstretched hand, and whispered, “The last time I checked, we were supposed to meet for work. I agreed to this cafe meeting because I know you brought him with you. I can only avoid unnecessary drama by choosing to meet in public.”Damian laughed and took a seat across from his friend. Damian Lillard was Ranya’s cousin, and he chose to work for him due to his political agenda. Being the Prime Minister’s personal assistant had many advantages for a politically minded person like Damian.“I see you’re avoiding questions about Vivian,” Damian remarked, staring intently at Ranya, whose expression turn
“Did she sanitize this?” Ranya asked, wearing a puzzled look as he stretched the empty paper towards Valerie. She took it and brought the blank sheet to her nose.She coughed slightly, perceiving a deeper scent than expected. “It’s sanitized, sir. The card is too,” she replied, handing the sheet back to him.He accepted the blank sheet, bewildered by why she would send it along with his keys.“Sir, are there any threats of any kind? Should I inform the police?" Valerie asked, watching her boss intently. She couldn’t help but wonder what business he had with the lady in shades.She did not say anything when she arrived because Mr. Windsor had already informed her that a lady would be returning his card, and she was to take it.“I thought I gave her a week?” he asked, walking into his office, scanning through the sheet in his hands to see if she left any hidden message. Valerie watched her boss walk away with surprise overly written on her face. She had never seen that look on him befor
“Is your heart made of stone, Calista?” he mumbled to himself, hastily finding his way into the empty home. It wasn’t completely empty, as he had presumed. The house still looked luxurious and well-fashioned, but the things Calista had bought to make the house less cold and frightening were gone. She had brought colors to his home, and her absence made the whole place feel extremely out of place for him. It felt quiet, making it look less like home.With his heartbeat pounding loudly against his chest, he roamed the entire house seeking something connected to her—a single item she must have touched or something he had gotten for her—but he found nothing.He walked through the rooms, his footsteps echoing in the silence. The apartment was filled with memories of moments shared and emotions felt. He searched for any sign of her presence but found nothing. No lingering scent, no personal belongings. It was as if she had never been there.Before she came, his home was void of colors. The
“Mr. Windsor,” Valerie called, her breath shaky and her eyes avoiding him. Ranya’s face furrowed in displeasure as a web of inquiries filled his mind.Despite his internal conflict, he was determined to meet with Vivian to address and resolve any misunderstandings, knowing he had to confront his inner turmoil to prevent further harm.“What, Valerie?” His voice was cold and dismissive. “What is it?”“I’m extremely sorry, sir, but while you were away, the Prime Minister came.”“What?” Ranya asked, casting a dreaded look at her. “Did you?” He stared at her and then at his office door. “You’re not saying you let him wait for me?”“I couldn’t stop him, sir,” she replied, following closely behind him as he walked faster yet calmly into his office, anger visibly exuding from his entire being. He opened the door to his office, and there he was, standing elegantly, watching the view of the city, his broad shoulders turned away from them.Ranya’s angry eyes bore deeply into Valerie, causing her
“California isn’t all bad, really,” Willie MacQuoid said, munching on a ramen burger. Ever since they arrived in Los Angeles, she had fallen in love with the city’s unique culinary delights. “You all just said California; nobody told me we’re coming to LA.”“I told you,” Mr. MacQuoid replied, sitting across from her at the dining table, his eyes on the magazine gifted to him by a friend he met on the plane. “I’m good with locations.”“Dad, you need to try this. No one will believe how magically delicious it is until you have a bite,” she persuaded, pushing the burger towards him with an encouraging smile.Mr. MacQuoid forced his eyes away from the magazine, nodding his head while eyeing her emphatically. “There’s no way I’m eating a burger made of noodles.”A long, throaty laugh escaped Calista’s throat as she walked into the dining room holding a dish filled with chicken-fried steak, its sweet aroma filling the whole room.“Don’t feed Dad those crispy things. We left Texas, but we sh
“You are the rude brat from the airport,” Willie interjected stubbornly, despite the glares from her mother.“I remember you,” his husky voice laced out, walking closer to the family. “How am I having just limited people here? I asked for twenty, and I have just four.”Mr. MacQuoid stared, stunned by his extreme arrogance. But having worked with such people, he knew how good they could be. He squinted, trying to identify where he had seen the cute face before.Anthony turned to Mr. MacQuoid, displeasure evident on his face as he watched him intently. “I bet you’re their leader since you’re the eldest. Where are the rest of you? And please make sure she...” he pointed at Willie, “...does most of the cleaning. Now get to work.”Calista stared, her lips partly open as he walked to the sofa, sitting comfortably while he rubbed his temple in agitation.Willie scoffed loudly, her eyes staring daggers at him. Mrs. MacQuoid seemed to be tongue-tied, as a slight smile played across her lips.T
“Ranya?” Vivian squeaked from the bathroom, her legs clashing against the marble floor as she approached him. “Why wouldn’t you let me fix this house? It looks so lifeless to me.”Ranya sighed, turning slightly towards her, the coldness in his expression easing as he gazed at her. “The house looks perfectly fine, Vivian.”“Why won’t you let her fix it, Ranya? What are you scared of?” Ranya thought.“No...” she blurted, grabbing his tie, attempting to help fix it, but he stepped back, a forced smile on his face. “I can handle it.”Her lips parted slightly, trying to say something, but her lips wouldn’t budge.Since she moved in a month ago, she had noticed his changed demeanor. He seemed to be pushing her away, despite his skilled attempts to hide it from her, not wanting her to feel unimportant. She knew he wasn’t the loving Ranya she had once known.She released the tie and observed him adjusting it around his neck. Her gaze lingered on his eyes, noticing the absence of the warmth th
Damian’s eyes widened in shock at Ranya’s proposition. How was the almighty Ranya Windsor asking for a favor with pleading eyes?“What?” Ranya asked, his voice deep, with a hint of displeasure. “You can’t go?”“No... not really,” Damian replied, blinking his eyes repeatedly. As expected, whatever emotional gaze Ranya had on a few moments ago disappeared like it had never been there in the first place. How Ranya was able to do that remained a mystery.“I think this is bullshit anyway,” Ranya groaned, igniting the car. “I shouldn’t be here in the first place.”Damian furrowed his brow, confusion laced across his face. “You’re giving up already? Aren’t you here to see someone you obviously don’t have the balls to face?”Damian knew saying those nasty words meant little or nothing to Ranya; in fact, not a bit of his ego was bruised, but he couldn’t help giving in to his rising curiosity. Firstly, who was Calista MacQuoid, and what business did he have with this cold personality?One good