Ties and Tangles

Chapter 6 – The Puppet

The streets of Italy blurred past me like ghosts.

But my mind wasn’t here. Not on the night. Not on the road. Not on the city I’ve seen a thousand times before.

It was her.

That girl.

That face.

Black hair like spilled ink down her back. Black eyes so sharp and deep they could cut you without a blade. Skin like it was carved from some old forgotten marble, kissed by moonlight. So fragile, so wild, so terrified.

God.

Ive seen her before

My hands gripped the wheel tighter as her voice echoed in my head. The way she screamed for help. The way she fought him. Like a cornered animal. Like someone who had nothing left but her will to survive.

I want to tear the laugh off the throat of all those who hurt her. She's strong. I can see it, feel it.

And yet…

There was something so painfully beautiful about her.

It messed with me.

F*ck! I still don’t know her name.

I reached the hotel’s penthouse, killing the engine. The weight of the night sat on me like chains. My steps dragged as I entered. The scent of perfume and expensive furniture filling the air.

“What took you so long?”

My mother’s voice.

I didn’t even look at her. “Went for a drive," I lie.

I was running from her image—and failing miserably.

I dropped onto the living room couch, raking my hand through my hair. Exhausted. Haunted.

And there was Zack, sitting cross-legged like a damn monk, remote in hand, eyes on the TV.

“Hey.” His voice cut through the silence. “Did you know the CEO of HJ Corp never had a daughter?”

My eyes drifted to him lazily. “What?”

He gestured to the TV. “Beckham Carla. He told the press today he never had a daughter.”

I sat up a little, a frown tugging at my face. “Why are you asking?”

Zack scoffed, running a hand down his face, frustrated. “Liam... do you remember when we attended Mirada Carla's will enlisting?”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah. Beckham transferred everything to his wife before she died.”

“Exactly,” Zack snapped. “And the lawyer said Mirada herself transferred the property to her only daughter. Her heir. Yet now Beckham says there is no daughter?”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Did they mention any names?”

Zack shook his head, bitter. “No. They didn’t.”

“Then maybe she was never born.”

Zack looked at me like I was insane. “Liam. You seriously believe that? A whole inheritance set for a non-existent daughter?”

I sighed. “If the Carla’s say they don’t have a daughter, then they don’t have a daughter. End of story.”

Zack grumbled under his breath. Pacing now. “I came to Italy to find her. Maybe even make her fall in love with me. Do you know what that means for us? For Mesh Industry?”

I snorted, laughing dryly. “You’re delusional.”

He glared at me. “Getting married to the Carla’s heir would open doors, Liam. Multiple cooperations. Big companies. A chance to save us.”

I leaned back, shaking my head. “We don’t need dirty influential men to save Mesh Industry. We stand on our own.”

Zack doesn’t seem convinced. “Oh, come on, man. I know you. You wouldn’t turn down a $10 million investment offer from a billionaire. You wouldn’t even blink.”

I wave him off, the frustration rising in me. “Let’s just get some sleep. We’ve got an early flight back to Moscow tomorrow.”

I get up, moving toward the hallway, but then I stop. I can’t shake it. The image of her. It’s still there. The girl from the alley. The one with the haunted look in her eyes.

I turn back to Zack, but he’s already flipping through the channels on the TV, clearly not paying attention anymore. Just as I’m about to walk away, the news comes back on with a breaking report.

Beckham Carla is on screen. He’s glaring at the camera, a bitter smile on his face.

“Beckham Carla confirmed today that he has no daughter. No children. There is no record of him ever having a daughter, despite the claims made at his wife’s funeral,” the news anchor reports.

My heart skips a beat.

On the screen, a picture of Beckham Carla is shown, his stern face like a shadow.

And right there…

My mind went back.

To her black hair, to her black eyes, to the girl who looked like she wasn’t from this world.

Her features, her eyes, her lips—everything about her matches Beckham Carla’s. She looks just like him. She looks just like his blood.

I whisper, barely audible. “That girl.”

Zack doesn’t even look at me. He just asks, “What did you say?

“Her,” I say, my voice strained. “She looks just like him.”

I sit down, running a hand through my hair. My world spinning, like I’m caught in the middle of crossfire, something deadlier than I can realise.

“Who?” Zack asks, now a little less interested in his TV show and more interested in me.

I lean back, rubbing my eyes. “I... I don’t know. But I found her again. Today. The girl we almost bumped into two days ago.”

Zack raises an eyebrow. “Found her where?”

“Not long ago at the market place, with a man who pretended to be her husband,” I explain, my voice quieter now. “She was screaming for help as soon as he grabbed her and there was so much fear in her eyes. I didn’t even get her name again. I couldn’t. But she told me she lived by the countryside.”

Zack frowns. “So, what now?”

I shake my head. “I... I don’t know. She looked terrified, Zack. I called the police to take her home. I just wanted her to be safe.”

Zack doesn’t reply at first, but then he grumbles, “Nothing good ever happens in this blood- hound town.”

I don’t know if that’s true, but I feel it deep down something’s not right about all this. Something’s not right about her.

And for the first time in a long time...

I didn’t know if I could argue with him.