Chapter 8: Flashes of Past and love
1071 Words
“Why is all this information wrong, Albert?”
Zayd’s voice cut through the silence like a blade.
Albert froze, eyes wide. “Sir… there is not a single lie. I searched her bio data two years ago by myself.”
Zayd slammed the file shut, his hazel eyes burning. “No. That’s not accurate. Not a single thing here is true — except her name and her age.” His words dripped with fury.
Albert’s face paled. “Sir, Madam Aliyana told you herself. Her introduction, her past… everything matched with this information.”
Zayd leaned back in his chair, mind ringing dangerously. Something wasn’t adding up.
“Why is all this information wrong, Albert?”
Zayd’s voice cut through the silence like a blade.
Albert froze, eyes wide. “Sir… there is not a single lie. I searched her bio data two years ago by myself.”
Zayd slammed the file shut, his hazel eyes burning. “No. That’s not accurate. Not a single thing here is true — except her name and her age.” His words dripped with fury.
Albert’s face paled. “Sir, Madam Aliyana told me herself. Her introduction, her past… everything matched with this information.”
Zayd leaned back in his chair, mind ringing dangerously. Something wasn’t adding up.
Flashback – Two Years Ago
The morning after that night — the night she spat on his ground — Albert had walked in, carrying this very file.
Her name: Aliyana. Just Aliyana.
An orphan, abandoned as a week-old baby. The orphanage head had found her on the road, nameless, fragile, forgotten. She’d grown up within those walls, gone to a small school, then college. English Literature.
Her life on paper was pitiful. Bullied, beaten, called a “filthy little thing.” Until one day, she began fighting back.
Later, she’d worked at her friend’s father’s company. Lived with that friend in a villa, loved by their family as though she were their own.
Zayd had smirked at the time, tossing the file onto his desk. “Such a sad past. And nothing special.”
Albert had nodded carefully. “Yes, sir. Her life is very simple. Maybe… being an orphan is what made her bitter.” He was referring to the way Aliyana had spit and insulted Zayd the night before.
Zayd had chuckled. “Bitter? Albert, that was quite a shock to me.” Then he’d laughed — a dark, amused sound that made Albert smile nervously in return.
“Forget about her,” Zayd had added. “She’s not that important to me. For your sake, I’m sparing her.”
Albert had bowed his head in relief, thankful — not as Zayd’s subordinate, but as someone who understood the pain of being an orphan.
Flashback – In the Car, Later That Day
The car hummed along the road. Albert sat in the front beside the driver; Zayd was behind, flipping through more files, his mind already on business.
Then—
The car slowed. Stopped.
“What’s this?” Zayd’s brow furrowed.
“Traffic, sir,” the driver said quickly. “I’ll check.” He stepped out, leaving Zayd to sigh, irritated.
Zayd tossed the file aside, pulled out a cigarette, and rolled the window down. The lighter clicked in his hand—
And then his gaze caught on her.
A girl sitting at the side of the road. Long brown hair flowing in the breeze, a soft laugh escaping her lips as she fed a group of stray cats. One, two, then half a dozen strays padded toward her, and she welcomed them all with the same gentle hands.
Zayd froze. The cigarette slipped from his fingers, the lighter hovering in the air.
Her.
Her furious face from last night flashed in his mind, but the girl before him was different. Entirely different.
Pure. Innocent. Almost angelic.
And he… he was the devil staring at her.
She rose to her feet, brushing her hands with a tissue. Wide black jeans, a brown button-down shirt, a bag slung carelessly over her shoulder. She looked nothing like the woman who’d spat on him. She looked untouchable.
And then… she turned.
Their eyes met.
Zayd’s breath caught. His heart pounded in his chest, an unfamiliar, violent rhythm.
Aliyana tilted her head, squinting, as if trying to place him. Recognition dawned. Her eyes sharpened.
And then she glared. A daggered look, pure fire.
Zayd’s lips parted, his lungs burning, but before he could react—
She turned her face away, muttering a sharp, dismissive “Hmph.” And walked off.
Zayd’s world tilted. His chest was tight, his breath uneven.
“Boss?” Albert’s voice was distant.
“Boss?” The driver, panicked.
“BOSS!”
Zayd jolted, snapping back, eyes blazing. “WHAT?!”
The driver stammered. “S-sir, it was just a street fight ahead. The road is clear now.”
Zayd growled low, dragging a hand across his jaw, and rolled the window up. He slipped the lighter into his pocket and leaned back, eyes closing.
Her glare replayed in his mind. Again and again. Until his lips curved into a smile.
And then he laughed.
Albert and the driver exchanged a nervous glance, sweat beading on their brows. They had never seen their boss like this.
Not once.
The memory of her glare still haunted him, replaying in the quiet moments, burning into his chest. She had dismissed him with a single sound — hmph — and yet, it lingered, sharper than bullets. Zayd found himself laughing whenever it replayed, the way her lips had curved, the fury in her eyes.
Two days later, he saw her again as she come to his company with her friend’s father to sign a deal.
She was in a meeting with her friend’s father, seated across the long table in glass-walled office. Papers exchanged, pens clicked, and she signed something with calm efficiency. Zayd leaned casually against the wall at the far end, watching through the glass.
Their gazes met.
Aliyana stiffened. Her amber eyes darkened, her lips pressed into a line. Then—
Hmph.
She turned her head away as if his very presence irritated her.
Zayd’s lips curved into a grin. Amusement sparkled in his eyes as he walked off. Later that night, alone sitting in study office, he chuckled again, remembering the sharp tilt of her chin. Hmph.
It was ridiculous. Addictive. Dangerous.
- Writer
