Chapter 6: Curse
"Yes, sir," the bodyguard replied before quickly leaving the room. An uneasy silence settled over the space, thick with tension, as though just the mere mention of Zylan’s name demanded a moment of reverence. It felt as if the very air itself had to be still, holding its breath for what came next.
Then, the door creaked open, and with fluid, graceful steps, Zylan casually walked into the large, dimly lit living room. His movements were effortless, as if he owned every space he stepped into.
Anna noticed him first—his presence was impossible to ignore. She immediately straightened in her seat, her posture suddenly poised, and her chest held high as though trying to impress him without uttering a word.
Naomi, on the other hand, froze the moment her eyes fell on him. Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening in disbelief. The shock of recognition sent a jolt through her system. ’It’s him,’she realized, her thoughts spiraling. The man from the gala. The man who wanted to commit suicide.’
But what was he doing here? Her heart began to race uncontrollably, pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird. Each beat echoed in her ears, drowning out the silence of the room.
He didn’t jump that night ... but how is he here?’ Naomi’s mind raced. She hadn’t seen him jump, but she had assumed the worst that day. And now, here he was, standing in her home, radiating an air of command that chilled her to the bone.
Zylan’s gaze swept briefly across her, his eyes dark and unreadable. It was just a glance, nothing more, but Naomi felt the weight of it as if he had peeled back the layers of her soul. Her veins felt cold, an icy shiver creeping up her spine.
"Is he... Zylan?" she whispered to herself, her voice so low it was barely audible.
Her father suddenly rose to his feet, breaking the silence. His movements were jerky, betraying the anxiety that had settled in his bones. With an uncharacteristic bow, he addressed Zylan, his voice shaking slightly. "W-Welcome, Mr. Zylan, to our humble home."