Lovers At War

"Admit to Monica's crimes and serve a simple five-year term. I promise your mother will be safe. Once released, you'll still be regarded as the lady of the Hussain family. This is actually a bargain. Take it if you're smart!"

--

Five years later, Sandra Hussain emerged from her prison term only to find the Hussains disowning her and barring her from seeing her mother.

Her sister Monica Hussain even threatened her to terminate her engagement with Darryl Owen, the Owen family heir, or forfeit any chance of meeting her mother.

Sandra yielded, agreeing to dissolve her engagement with Darryl. Yet, her grandmother, Theresa Hussain, the family matriarch, insisted she marry someone else within three days.

To marry someone else in such haste? Fresh from her incarceration, they seemed to be pushing her towards a hasty and undesirable match to thwart her future.

Despite her reluctance, she complied just so she could finally be with her mother.

Now she had a mere three days to break ties with Darryl.

Learning that Darryl dwelt in the opulent Gale Mansion, she headed there directly.

Clad in the same white dress from half a decade past, her hair in a plain ponytail, she appeared unsophisticated at a glance.

Yet her bare face shone clear and bright, her natural beauty suggesting an underlying charm.

At eighteen, her visage was yet to mature. Now, five years later, her beauty blossomed.

Sandra evaded observation and chose the stairs, reaching Darryl's room undetected.

As her hand grazed the door in preparation to knock, it creaked open under her touch.

Peering inside, she inquired, "Is anyone in here? Mr. Owen? May I enter?"

Her question hung unfinished in the air as an imposing hand clasped her arm, yanking her into the room.

Within moments, she found herself ensnared against a robust frame.

The man's faint yet captivating scent enveloped her, sending tingles through her body.

Struggling to break free from his grip, she was instead effortlessly twirled and pressed against the door.

A sharp click signaled the door locking.

Sandra's gaze lifted to the towering figure behind her. The room's dim light veiled his face, yet she presumed this must be Darryl since it was his room.

His breath warm against her cheek, drawing nearer to her ear, Sandra sensed that something was off.

In that instant, the man leaned into Sandra, his body pressing against hers, and murmured into her ear with a seductive undertone, "Help me, and I'll give you as much money as you want."

The mention of paying her made Sandra recoil, suspecting Darryl had confused her with a woman of the night. Incensed, she swung her hand to deliver a slap, but found her strength waning.

Within moments, her body turned feeble and mute, unable to utter a sound.

Taking advantage of her vulnerability, he scooped her up and strode towards the bed.

Time blurred as Sandra wrestled with her feeble state until at last, she broke free. But freedom brought no solace, as she discovered her naked body under the sheets.

The sound of water cascading in the bathroom jogged her memory. Her initial intent had been to sever the ties of engagement with Darryl. Such a reunion after the decade-long gap was definitely not what she had envisioned.

The recent misadventure in the room had deviated horribly, and she didn't want things to become more awkward than they already were.

Resolved, Sandra cast away the sheets, climbed out of bed, and scrambled for her clothes.

On the brink of departure, the man's murmur echoed in her mind. "I'll give you as much money as you want."

Feeling offended, Sandra searched her bag, found a coin, and left it on the nightstand with a hastily penned note.

Yet, as she reached for the door to leave, the knob twisted from the other side.

The door was being opened from the outside.

Sandra's ears caught an outside voice as she sidestepped. "Mr. Darryl, my boss is truly unwell..."

Her heart missed a beat.

Was that Darryl out there? And if so, who was the man behind the bathroom door?

Sandra was on the verge of panic, trying to recall the identity of the person she had just been with.

Yet, the imminent arrival of Darryl meant she needed to leave quickly.

Surveying the room, her eyes landed on the window behind her. Compelled by urgency, she dashed toward it just as the door creaked open.

Fortunately, the Gale Mansion rose only five stories high. She escaped through the window on the top floor and deftly descended, using the ledges as her pathway.

Reaching the ground, she exhaled in relief, only then noticing the ache in her body. She hadn't anticipated that her first sexual encounter would be so painful.

However, she couldn't linger on these thoughts. She was contemplating a return to the Gale Mansion to confront Darryl and end their engagement when she was drawn to a disturbance nearby. A crowd had formed, their pleas for a doctor piercing the air. "Does anyone here have medical training? This man needs assistance!"

Sandra didn't hesitate to push through the crowd. There, an old man lay twitching on the pavement, hands gripped to his chest.

As she dialed for an ambulance, she instructed the bystanders, "Give him space; he needs air."

With the call placed, she swiftly tilted the man to a safer position and started CPR.

After several compressions, she checked for a heartbeat, her ear pressed to his chest, and felt a flicker of hope.

She then found a pill bottle in the man's coat, from which she took two pills, and sat beside him. She gently lifted his head, requesting water from the onlookers to aid him in taking the medicine.

When the ambulance arrived, the paramedics took over, and the old man was transported to the hospital. Sandra, now composed, made her way back to the Gale Mansion to confront Darryl.

This time, she entered with her head held high, handing a servant a token to signify her identity, and settled herself to wait in the grand hall.

Darryl stepped into the room as Sandra had left through the window.

His gaze swept the area. He even went up to the bathroom door to take a closer look. Everything appeared normal.

With a smile, he said, "Uncle Kristopher, grandfather's set up this blind date for you, and it's important. Please, honor his wishes and settle down soon. It'll ease his mind."

In the same room where he had earlier lifted Sandra and threw her onto the bed with ease, the man now sat in a wheelchair, looking pale and delicate.

Resting back, Kristopher Owen let out a soft cough and replied, "Given my health, wouldn't I just be a burden to others?"

Darryl's patience thinned after another unsuccessful search with his eyes.

"Grandfather has always wanted you to marry. See it as your duty as a son."

Kristopher agreed. "You have a point. I'll consider my options carefully. Have the prospective brides arrived for the blind date? Bryan, I need to change."

Darryl took it as his cue to leave. "Then we'll meet in the banquet hall."

With that, he departed.

The door had barely shut when Kristopher stood up from his wheelchair, scanning the room for any sign of a woman.

His face clouded over as he asked, "Where did she go?"

Baffled, his assistant Bryan Smith responded, "Sir? Who are you looking for?"

Kristopher rummaged through the room, even checking inside the wardrobe. No sign of the woman. Frustrated, he flung the bed sheets aside and was struck by a bright red stain.

He stared at the stark crimson mark, lost in thought. Recollections of their encounter flooded back, and he understood her naivety. It turned out it had been her first time.

As Kristopher was struggling to divert his attention from the blood stain, Bryan noticed a coin and a note by the bed.

He lifted them, reading out loud the message written on it. "Somewhat average. Hardly remarkable." Once he finished, he asked Kristopher, "What's this supposed to mean?"

A headache pulsed as Kristopher advanced, seizing the note, his scrutiny fixed on the script, with a single coin beside it.

The realization hit Kristopher!

That woman had the audacity to provoke him.

She had left a mere dollar and deemed him unremarkable?

Average? Hardly remarkable?

Was he truly unremarkable?

He clenched his jaw and sneered. "Search for this woman! Turn the world upside down if necessary."

Bryan caught on to the situation.

Yet, what astonished him more was the insinuation of the note. "No way, sir? Did you just have sex? This.... Is this the encounter Mr. Darryl set up for today?"

Holding the coin and note, Kristopher approached an incense burner, glancing at the residue of some kind of aphrodisiac before giving it to Bryan. "This pawn of his seems to be out of line, and Darryl is on her trail too. Find her before Darryl can, and resolve this promptly."

Accepting the incense burner, Bryan nodded, affirming, "Certainly! I'll get on with the search straight away!"

Darryl burst out of Kristopher's room, his frustration palpable.

"Where is she? The woman who was meant to come to Uncle Kristopher's room?"

A subordinate stepped up to inform him, "She didn't even enter the room. It was locked from the inside."

In anger, Darryl punched the railing and commanded, "He's with another woman then. Find out her identity!"

The subordinate quickly agreed, "Understood!"

But then he hesitantly continued, "Sir, a lady downstairs claims she's your fiancee..."

Before he could finish, Darryl's phone rang. He saw it was his grandfather's butler calling. With a gesture for silence, Darryl took the call. "What? Grandpa is in the hospital? I'm on my way!"

With his men behind him, Darryl rushed down the stairs. Sandra, who had thought he might want to talk about their engagement, stood up expectantly. But Darryl strode past her without a glance.

A person from Darryl's group returned Sandra's token to her, saying, "Miss Hussain, Mr. Owen must handle an emergency. Could you please return later?"

Clutching her token, Sandra stood confused, pondering what emergency could overshadow their engagement cancellation.

That evening when Kristopher received the news, his father had already been released from the hospital.

Several limousines rolled into the Owen family estate, and Kristopher was being wheeled inside the house.

While sitting calmly in the wheelchair, Kristopher's expression was stoic, betraying no emotion.

It wasn't until he was in the main hall that he allowed himself a slight softening of his features.

His father, Caiden Owen, exhaled wearily, but Kristopher said first, "I said I didn't want that blind date. You pushed for it, and now your heart's suffered because I escaped the setup. Was it worth it?"

Caiden let out another heavy sigh and uttered, "I'm growing weaker with each passing day. How much time remains for me? I long to see you wed, to embrace your offspring, to gaze upon my lineage while I yet draw breath..."

Before he could continue, Kristopher cut in, "Today, in my room, your grandson seemed genuinely eager to fulfill that wish."

Caiden's attention swiftly turned to Bryan, who was attending to the wheelchair, and Bryan relayed the day's happenings in Kristopher's room.

Caiden's hand struck the table as he commanded, "Bring Darryl to me at once!"

With a laid-back tone, Kristopher suggested, "Perhaps ease up a bit. You've just had a heart attack, but your fiery attitude remains."

Caiden exhaled deeply, saying, "Should I lay bare all to set him straight?"

Kristopher slightly shook his head, advising, "No need. Let's just say, I'm his sharpening stone. A few more years should hone him well."

Caiden continued his lament, "My days are numbered, and it weighs heavy on me. Marry soon, even just for my peace of mind."

Kristopher, his gaze lowered, briefly saw a vision of the enchanting woman from earlier that day.

Unsure why she came to mind, he appeased Caiden, "No need to rush."

But Caiden's impatience flared. "It's urgent for me! If need be, I'll find a match for you, and you shall marry her!"

Kristopher was well aware of Caiden's determination.

Wheeling away, he declared, "The socialites, the fine ladies you speak of, they hold no allure for me. Besides, I have no desire to have my days filled with chatter about limited-edition purses and fancy high heels."

As Kristopher's words hung in the air, Caiden's thoughts turned to an angelic woman unaffected by worldly desires, a vision of grace, kindness, and exceptional healing prowess. She wouldn't be the type to fuss over trivial luxuries.

Caiden, with a playful gleam in his eye, pointed at Kristopher. "Lucky you. I actually know of such a woman. She is a medical expert. Should you marry, she'd be perfect to tend to your health."

Kristopher's surprise was palpable.

What did his father mean? Was he truly being steered toward marriage with a woman handpicked for him?