EpisodeFour
1191 Words
CHAPTER FOUR
ISLA
Antiseptic. It was worse than before.
I blinked.
“ More ….outburst…kill her” I heard heated conversations outside but I couldn't make out what was being said.
“ She …therapy….not schemes”
I tried to sit up but my arms trembled and slumped. I tried again…. ultimately, I gave up, eyes scanning the ward.
White pretentious walls. Beeping machine. No overbearing figure. Just emptiness.
I inhaled deeply, my mind reeling back to the scene I had witnessed.
My funeral. Cold. Unreal. No love..
It was a press conference. A campaigne disguised as a funeral.
I recalled the way my husband had walked in with Sia accompanying him. The way they walked too closely.
Tears slid down my cheeks, my hands gripping my chest as I tried to stabilise my breathing.
I had always seen them. I have seen his gaze linger on her while we talked business. The way he tensed up when her orchid scented perfume filled the air.
I had asked but he only kissed my forehead, “ she is just a secretary. How could she compare to my wife” he had said and I had smiled, my chest full from proud.
I didn't think strategistically, I didn't think realistically ….instead, I chose to believe his lies out of love.
The door open snapping me out of my thoughts..
Zayne walked in, calm. Eyes searching mine.
“ Why did you save me?” the question rolled out of my tongue.
He smiled, then fished out his phone,“ Your funeral–we left too early” he said, his face straight. Emotionless.
I gulped.
“ luckily, the press captured the moment”
My stomach flipped. He was enjoying my pain. He revelled in my misery..even when I didn’t know his intentions towards me..
He bared the screen to me and Samuel’s face appeared.
“ She would be missed..” he began, but I slapped the phone away. It took everything in me to find that strength.
I helped Samuel become the monster he was. I helped the snake and he did a good job of sinking his fangs into my neck. Deep and final.
I had seen enough in the funeral, there wasn't anything new.
I glanced up to look at Zayne whose hands hung midair, his phone still lying on the floor.
I swallowed the lump that gathered in my throat. I was done feeling sorry. I was done breaking.
“ What do you want? Why do you show me all of this? You want something, who are you?”
Impatience and rage engulfed me that my blood boiled ten times over.
“ Zayne Castellan” he said, then stared at me. He was waiting for something and I knew exactly what it was.
My reaction to the name. Castellan. That was the late president’s name. The one that had died mysteriously a few weeks back.
Loved by all. Strong. Fair president.
He undoubtedly would have been the greatest obstacle in Samuel’s path to becoming elected …but he died.
But I made no assumptions, not yet.
“a name isn't an identity, benefactor”
“ Isn't it Mrs Rivers?” He asked, words dripping with sarcasm and layered mockery.
My palms burned but I swallowed, forcing a smile, “ miss Isla” I corrected but he only raised a brow like he had expected it.
“ Then the name Castellan should mean something to you as a strategist. An obstacle perhaps. A superior figure”
I swallowed.
“ You are… the president?...the president’s son?” I whispered, lips quivering.
He smirked, “you'd figured, fantastic”
“ I'm sorry for your loss Mr…”
“ If you could destroy him, would you?” He asked, cutting me off with a wave of his hands.
I paused.
Silence stretched for what felt like an eternity.
Two seconds …..
Ten ….
Fifteen.
I knew the answer. I understood the question. It was obvious by the way my hands subconsciously clenched but I couldn't bring myself to voice it.
“ Do you need a fresh reminder? I'm particularly good at it”
He asked and my face paled. He was nothing good.
“ What do you want me to do?”
“ Dismantle him the same way you built him”
I swallowed. I could….but I didn't want to used anymore. I had trusted too much but I wouldn't let the same mistake happen twice. I couldn't trust anyone, not even the one that saved me.
“ Why?” I asked but he smacked his tongue against his lips and stood up straightening his long coat like my question just rumpled it.
He covered the distance between us, then bent down. So low.. terrifyingly close. Any woman would have felt their heart race in s****l tension but mine ….it dropped to my stomach in dread.
He came so close that I could feel his uneven breath slicing through the thin hospital wear and tingling my skin.
“ Tell me Isla, what do you want?”
My hands gripped the bed. The answer was at the tip of my tongue.
Justice.
“ What do you stand to gain?”
“ Power. Strip him of everything slowly. Painfully. In the way he took something from me” he whispered against my skin, gaze fixed on me.
I saw the bloodlust in his eyes. A flash of the cold blooded monster he actually was. The one he did a good job hiding.
He was nothing like the late president. Nothing like his father. He was the devil!
It was obvious what he wanted. He didn't want the power that came from the title of presidency. He wanted to strip Samuel before the public eye, strip him so slowly and watch Samuel turn desperate…turn miserable.
The thought excited me but ….I couldn't let a man like him become the president. The people will suffer. He was too rigid, too cruel for the presidency.
“ We should hand over all the evidence to the police” I said and he burst out in a loud, croaky laughter.
He leaned away, the pressure from the earlier closeness vanished.
“ Police? You are a strategist. You know better what power an acting president possessed. Do you really want to go through that path?” he asked, his eyes red from the mocking laughter.
I clenched my fist.
“ I won't let you be the president. The world is already being led by one evil bred by me. I can't add another”
“ Oh but you will”
“ I won't. I won't let myself be a pawn any longer”
He covered the distance between us and grabbed my chin rashly.
“Don't help me. Let the monster you helped raise find more victims while you rot away in here He said and leaned back, “ you choose”
I inhaled deeply. I recalled. Samuel’s speech, he looked too happy after almost killing me. Too confident..
“ I will help you”
If I must burn, why not let my dear husband burn with me?
“The world doesn't need a heartless president.
- Writer
