Chapter 3 QUEEN MARABELLA ISLAND(3)

CHAPTER THREE

"This is truly a double celebration," said Mr. Benjamin Garcia, raising his glass with a satisfied smile. "Not only are we marking the day after Velmara Independence anniversary, but also the awarding of the government shipping and logistics contract for the Port of Oceania to our family company."

"A toast to Zayan and Annalise, and to the trust the government has placed in us," Mr. Kelvin Jackson added, pride evident in his voice. "This contract secures our role as the primary handler of freight operations at the port for the next five years, a legacy handed down from our great-great-grandparents, now entrusted to us."

Mr. Jackson clinked his glass against Mr. Garcia's glass, both men reveling in the joyous occasion. The celebration took place in the Garcia home, an elegant dining room adorned with blue and gold decorations subtly echoing the national colors. The aroma of roasted lamb and freshly baked bread filled the air, while soft classical music played in the background. Laughter and animated conversations blended with the clinking of glasses as family members toasted the bright future ahead.

But Annalise sat stiffly at the table, her hands clenched beneath the cloth. Unlike the others, she was far from happy. Her mind churned with resentment, her appetite vanished.

Why would her family hold dinner with these people?

Her piercing blue eyes darted toward her uncle, Kelvin Jackson. He was the embodiment of arrogance, controlling, selfish and manipulative. Status and wealth were his currency, and he looked down on those who had neither.

And then there was Zayan.

Seated across the table, laughing at something his father whispered, he looked carefree-too carefree. Handsome, yes, but his charm only deepened Annalise's irritation. Their uncanny resemblance was a constant reminder of everything she despised about him.

Zayan's confidence was unbearable. Brilliant and athletic, always in the spotlight, he seemed to believe the world owed him everything. Yet beneath that smug exterior, Annalise sensed something else. It was a flicker of insecurity, a boy shaped by a fractured family and a father's cold expectations. It was this hidden vulnerability, masked by arrogance, that made him all the more infuriating.

Her mind drifted to her room, to the comfort of her bed where she could be alone, away from this forced gathering. She imagined herself curled up under her blankets, reading a novel, or simply enjoying the quiet, rather than sitting here wasting time in the presence of the one person who had been a thorn in her side since childhood. The anger bubbling inside her was nearly impossible to suppress. And what truly made her blood boil was knowing that Zayan was now at the same university as her.

The University of Antares.

Of all the places in the world, he had to end up there.

Annalise could already predict how unbearable he was going to make her life. He had always been an expert at getting on her nerves, always finding ways to irritate her just for his amusement. Now, with them both at the same university, she knew he wouldn't stop. He would taunt her, challenge her, and push her buttons every chance he got.

Annalise stood up and abruptly pushed back her chair, the legs scraping against the floor. The conversation at the table briefly paused, her parents casting her a questioning look. She needed to step away before her anger got the best of her.

Without meeting anyone's eyes, she strode toward the kitchen, her chest tight with barely controlled frustration.

Just as she was lost in her thoughts, a familiar, smug voice broke through the air.

"Someone is building up her facial muscles," the voice teased.

Her entire body tensed.

Turning around slowly, she found herself face to face with none other than Zayan. He was standing behind her with that infuriatingly confident smirk, hands casually tucked into his pockets, watching her like he had caught her in the middle of something amusing.

Her expression hardened instantly.

She didn't look pleased. Not in the slightest.

"What do you want?" Annalise asked, her tone sharp with irritation.

Zayan leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest as he regarded her with a cocky smirk. "Well, I came to say hi."

Annalise rolled her eyes. "I think it would be best if you let me be."

Zayan raised an eyebrow at her choice of words. "Let you be?" he echoed, tilting his head slightly. "What is going on with you, cousin?"

"I said let me be," Annalise demanded, her voice rising slightly. She was already angry about his presence in her home, and now he was intentionally getting under her skin.

Zayan let out a small chuckle. "Well, I don't know why you hate me," he said with a shrug. "But now that we've both been admitted to the same university, I expect we'll start getting along. Don't you think, Mackayla?"

The moment the name left his lips, Annalise's entire body stiffened.

She knew exactly what he was doing. He was playing dirty, poking at an old wound he had no business touching.

No one called her by her middle name. No one except Skye.

Zayan's smirk deepened when he saw her reaction. He had struck a nerve.

Annalise clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palm. "Look, I know what you're trying to do," she said through gritted teeth. "Whatever it is that you're cooking, you better be ready for whatever it is you're going to get."

They locked eyes, neither backing down.

Zayan could see the storm brewing in Annalise's gaze, the sheer fury radiating off of her in waves. And he enjoyed it. He relished the challenge, the intensity. He was willing to push her further just to see what she was capable of.

"I've been wondering what happened between you and Skye," Zayan said, his voice slow and taunting. "You two were practically inseparable, from what I remember." He tapped his chin thoughtfully before adding, "Your first kiss was with him, wasn't it?"

Annalise's breathing hitched, but she said nothing.

Zayan smirked. "Oh, don't act surprised. It was rated as one of the best romance dramas in my school, with each new episode more dramatic than the last. My personal favorite? The one about your breakup. Though, I must say, the speculation about you giving him your body was quite..."

Annalise felt her entire world shatter at that moment.

There was a sudden rush of adrenaline, a fire igniting inside her so violently she thought she might explode. The rage consumed her, burned through every fiber of her being, until all she could feel was white-hot fury.

And then, before Zayan could utter another word, before he could continue his twisted game, her hand moved by instinct.

Like lightning splitting the sky, followed by the deafening roar of thunder, she slapped him.

Twice.

The sharp crack of her palm meeting his cheek echoed through the room.

The force of the blows sent him stumbling, his vision spinning for a second as dizziness took over.

Annalise stood firm, her chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. She didn't regret it. Not for a second.

Zayan straightened himself, his hand moving to touch his burning cheek. Slowly, he turned to look at her, and for the first time, the smirk had been wiped clean from his face.

He had underestimated her.

But now?

Now, he knew.

Annalise Mackayla Garcia was not to be messed with.

From the dining room, chairs scraped against the floor, followed by hurried footsteps. Annalise's family and uncle had clearly heard it.

The entire room fell silent.

Before anyone could say a word, she turned and bolted to her room, her heart pounding against her ribs. Once inside her room, she shut the door and leaned against it, struggling to catch her breath. Her hands trembled as she stared at them in disbelief. Had she really slapped Zayan?

Moving to the window, she watched as dark clouds thickened, and within moments, heavy raindrops began to pour down. A wave of relief washed over her.

"He asked for it and received it," she muttered to herself.

Annalise sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her trembling hands. The echoes of Zayan's words still rang in her ears, burning her with rage and humiliation. She clenched her fists, trying to suppress the mixture of anger and hurt boiling inside her. The heavy rain outside drummed against her window, mirroring the storm within her.

She took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair, shutting her eyes tightly. Why did he have to bring up Skye? Why now? She had worked so hard to bury the memories, to move past them. But Zayan, in his usual arrogant and taunting manner, had decided to rip open a wound she had barely managed to heal.

Silence hung thick in the air. Zayan was still trying to recover from whatever universe that slap had sent him to.

"Are you okay, Zayan?" Mrs. Garcia finally asked, concern evident in her voice.

"I'm fine, Aunt Katherina," Zayan replied weakly, rubbing his stinging cheek.

"We are so sorry, Zayan. We apologize for my daughter's behavior," Mr. Garcia said sincerely.

But Mr. Jackson's patience had run out. "Annalise should be apologizing, Benjamin, not you! How can she raise her hand on a man?" he snapped.

"Kelvin, I am just as surprised as you are," Mr. Garcia responded, his voice laced with disappointment. "Annalise is not one to react this way. Please, forgive her."

Mrs. Garcia turned her sharp gaze on Zayan. "What happened?"

Zayan smirked slightly despite the dull ache in his cheek. "Well, I simply told her the bitter truth she's been running away from."

"And what truth is that?" she pressed.

Zayan shrugged. "I think Annalise is the only person in the right position to tell you. But do tell her she's forgiven," he said smugly.

Mr. Jackson exhaled in frustration and turned to the Garcias. "Well, Katherina, I have to get going. Benjamin, I think you should talk to your daughter. I can't hide my disappointment. This party was meant for her, and she ruined it. Let's go, son."

With that, he walked toward the door, Zayan following closely behind.

As soon as they left, Annalise's parents exchanged a weary look. Mr. Garcia's jaw was tense, his hands clenched at his sides. He was a man of peace. He despised conflict and anything that forced him to take sides. Yet, deep down, he knew why Annalise had reacted the way she did.

They all knew Zayan had always been ill-mannered, just like his father. That was precisely why his mother had divorced his father and left the city, and her one mistake was leaving Zayan behind to be spoiled under his father's influence.

Now, it seemed, Annalise had finally snapped.

Mrs. Garcia let out a sigh and rubbed her temples. "I can't believe this happened today of all days," she murmured.

"I can," Mr. Garcia responded, his tone filled with exhaustion. He turned to his wife. "Katherina, let's not pretend we don't know the kind of boy Zayan is. He's exactly like his father."

Kelvin Jackson scowled as he drove through the rain-soaked streets. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, his anger palpable.

"You embarrassed yourself today," he muttered to his son.

Zayan, who had been staring out of the window with a faraway look in his eyes, turned to his father.

"You let a girl humiliate you in front of everyone. A weakling, that's what you are." Kelvin's voice dripped with disgust.

Zayan clenched his jaw. He wasn't weak. He knew that. He just hadn't expected Annalise to react the way she did. It wasn't just the slap, it was the fire in her eyes, the intensity of her anger. He had seen her mad before, but this time, it had been different. It had been personal.

He exhaled sharply and turned his gaze back to the raindrops racing down the car window. "She thinks she won tonight," he mused. "But this is just the beginning."

Mrs. Garcia's lips pressed into a thin line. She had always disliked the way her brother raised his son, spoiling him, encouraging his entitled behavior, and turning him into a mirror image of himself. It saddened her that Zayan had never been given the chance to be different.

"I think she taught him a lesson," Mrs. Garcia finally admitted. "Zayan is used to saying and doing whatever he wants without consequences. Maybe Annalise's slap will remind him that he is not invincible."

Mr. Garcia sighed, shaking his head. "Regardless, she shouldn't have let her anger control her. Kelvin will make a big deal out of this."

Annalise's mother was pleased that her daughter had finally put Zayan in his place. Though she didn't voice it aloud, a part of her felt satisfied, Zayan had it coming.

Many people have often wondered if Kelvin and Katherina were truly siblings. The contrast between them was striking. While Kelvin was brash, selfish, and quick-tempered, Katherina was the exact opposite. She was kind-hearted, graceful, and effortlessly elegant. Her beauty wasn't just in her appearance but in the way she carried herself with dignity and quiet strength.

Her long, luxurious blond hair and blue eyes were one of the most defining features of the Jackson lineage. It was a family trait that never faded, passed down through generations like an unbreakable thread. Even her daughters had inherited the same striking blond hair and blue eyes.

Despite coming from a high-class background, Katherina never let wealth or status define her. She was a woman of poise, respect, and integrity. Above all, she was a devoted mother, one who, at that moment, couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in her daughter for standing up for herself.

"Well, I know our daughter too well. This is not the first time Annalise and Zayan have been at each other's throats," Mr. Garcia said, his frustration evident. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "Kelvin indirectly told us we didn't raise our daughter well. Who does he think he is? He should focus on that ill-mannered son of his. Zayan has no idea when to speak or how to control his tongue." His voice was laced with irritation, his fists clenching at the thought of Kelvin's arrogance.

Mrs. Garcia, sitting beside him, folded her arms and shook her head. "Annalise needs to avoid Zayan's trouble; that boy brings trouble wherever he goes. He thrives on conflict, and I don't want our daughter caught up in his mess." Her tone was firm yet weary, as if she had spent years repeating the same warning.

"She did that to Zayan for a very good reason. Zayan says terrible things. The law says to ask, and you shall receive. He deserves more slaps." Meredith said quietly, her voice calm but firm.

Meredith, the second daughter, was perched at the edge of her chair, her long curly blond hair framing her thoughtful blue eyes. She was known for listening more than speaking, often observing family dynamics with quiet insight.

Erica, the youngest, huffed and crossed her arms, a mischievous glint in her striking blue eyes. "I still think Zayan's the coolest," she muttered, shooting a defiant look at her parents. Mischievous and bold, Erica often pushed boundaries and wasn't afraid to show her loyalty, especially when it came to Zayan.

As she spoke, Erica's playful smirk softened for a moment when she glanced toward the door Annalise had disappeared through, a flicker of concern hidden beneath her bravado.

"I hope Annalise is okay. Should we talk to her?" Mr. Garcia asked, concern lacing his voice.

Mrs. Garcia sighed. "We should let her be for tonight. Tomorrow, we will talk to her," she suggested.

Annalise couldn't sleep. Her mind kept circling back to what had happened. Frustrated, she got out of bed and walked over to her reading table. Sitting down, she pulled open her drawer and took out her diary. It had a small lock, and the key hung around her neck as a pendant. She unclasped the necklace, unlocked the diary, and began flipping through the pages.

As she read through her past entries, a smile tugged at her lips, then a quiet laugh escaped her. But when she turned another page, her expression changed. There, tucked inside, was a picture of Skye taken two years ago at his high school graduation ceremony.

Two years. That was how long it had been since she last heard from him. She missed him every day, yet she still couldn't understand the real reason he had broken up with her. Calling her a distraction never felt like the truth. Those words had hurt her deeply. Skye wasn't just her childhood friend; he was the only guy she had ever loved.

Annalise wondered if they would ever meet again. More importantly, was she even ready to see him?

Resentment simmered beneath the surface. He had left her behind to study abroad. The thought of it made her chest tighten. A tear slipped from her eye, landing on the picture she held. She wiped it gently with her thumb, but the memories it carried were impossible to erase.

"You'll come back to me, won't you?" she whispered. "I miss you so much, Skye. I love you, and I need you. And I'm so pissed at you. I hope you know that. I want to believe you had a good reason for breaking up with me, a reason I hope you'll share with me someday."

Sniffing back more tears, Annalise carefully placed the picture back inside her diary, locked it, and returned it to the drawer. She climbed into bed, pulling the blanket over her body, and soon after, sleep claimed her.

Outside, the rain continued to pour heavily.

Meanwhile, Zayan lay awake, replaying the events of the night in his mind. Rage burned in his chest. He was furious with himself for letting it happen. For not hitting her back. His anger only deepened after his father called him a weakling.

He clenched his fists.

Annalise would pay. He would make sure of it.

Zayan was never loved by many, but that never mattered as much as he got whatever he wanted. His father had ensured that. Yet, despite everything, Zayan missed his mother. At the same time, he resented her. She had left him to endure his father's wrath alone. Now, his father was determined to mold him into an indestructible force, someone strong enough to take over his empire.

And Zayan had no choice but to become exactly that.