Calling Hawt Residence
1348 Words
It was still dark outside. The morning sunlight hasn't shined yet completely. Early morning!
Cambrik stood on the front steps of the bedroom door, the weight of her decision heavy but liberating.
Outside the mansion, Neor bodyguards could be looking at her curiously if she goes down right now. It is the middle of the night. Almost morning. Raining so much.
She knows they have so many questions on their mind. And Cambrik does not want to answer everything. She still cares about the reputation of Neor family. Because Otthen Neor is not the only person who is holding this name along.
And Cambrik doesn’t want to take the blame on her head. She has been always blamed enough. By everyone. Specially Otthen’s mother, Vivienne Neor, and sister-in-law Monika Neor.
Moreover, if she moves now, they will block her way and ask where is she going.
She can’t even order a taxi right now. Because this mansion is away from the city, a bit countryside.
She clutched her phone, her mind racing. She didn’t have much.
Or maybe she wasn’t completely alone—not yet.
There was someone she could reach out to as an emergency contact, someone who had been a steady, if distant, presence in the old business ties with her family. The Hawt. Genia Hawt.
Her hands trembled as she unlocked her phone, scrolling through her contacts. She hesitated, her finger hovering over his name, her heart racing with a strange mix of fear and hope.
Is this really who I’ve become? The woman who flees her home in the middle of the night, seeking help from a man she barely knows?
Standing alone in the darkened street outside the mansion, rain still falling lightly around her, Cambrik felt a hollowness settle over her, heavy and suffocating.
She had nowhere to go, no one waiting for her. She could feel Otthen’s final words echoing in her mind, taunting her.
The realization was bitter, and she felt a wave of anger welling up inside her.
And then, a name drifted into her mind with determination calling for the help: The Hawt Residence.
Her fingers shook as she scrolled through her contacts, searching for the number of the Hawt family mansion.
She found it quickly, her breath hitching as she hovered over the name for a moment before pressing the call button.
She pressed dial.
The phone rang, and with each passing second, her heart raced faster. She glanced over at Otthen, who was leaning against the bed, oblivious to what she was doing.
His eyes were unfocused, his mind still swimming in the remnants of alcohol, and Cambrik’s disgust only deepened.
After what felt like an eternity, the call was answered. A calm, familiar voice came through the line.
“Hawt family mansion, how may I help you?” the voice of one of the staff said politely.
Cambrik swallowed hard, trying to steady her voice. “This is Cambrik Neor. I… I need to speak with Genia Hawt. It’s urgent.”
There was a brief pause before the staff member replied, “Please hold, Mrs. Neor. I’ll transfer you immediately to someone from Hawt family.”
Cambrik waited, the silence between each second stretching out as her nerves tensed. Finally, the phone clicked, and a warm, familiar voice came through.
Cambrik taken aback. She was expecting Genia Hawt, not someone else.
"Hello, where is Genia Hawt from the Hawt Residence?" Cambrik's voice was clear and authoritative. Otthen's heart skipped a beat, wondering what she was up to.
Genia’s brother, Solen Hawt answered, his voice tinged with surprise and curiosity. "This is Solen, Hawt. Who is this?"
Cambrik’s voice caught for a second, her breath shaky as she struggled to gather her composure. “Solen… it’s Cambrik Neor,” she managed, her voice barely above a whisper. “I… I’m so sorry to bother you at this hour, but I didn’t know who else to call.”
There was a brief pause, but his voice softened when he spoke again. “Cambrik? Are you all right?” His tone was gentle, laced with genuine concern. “What’s happened?”
She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of the night press down on her. “It’s Otthen. He… things have gotten out of control. I had to leave the mansion, and I—” Her voice broke, and she bit down hard on her lip, willing herself not to lose control.
“Where are you?” he asked, his voice steady and reassuring. “Are you still in the city?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “I’m… I’m just outside Neor Mansion.”
“Stay right there. I’ll come get you,” he replied without hesitation, his words filled with a quiet, unwavering resolve. “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Just hold on.”
Before she could even respond, he ended the call. She stood there in the rain, clutching her phone, a strange mixture of relief and vulnerability washing over her.
She had called someone, reached out—and someone had answered. For the first time that night, she didn’t feel entirely alone.
Cambrik took her suitcase and went to the Mansion door. Waiting. As expected, bodyguards were watching her. But Camrbik kept a straight face. No one dares to ask anything.
True to his word, Solen’s car pulled up a few minutes later, the sleek, dark vehicle a stark contrast against the wet street.
That was fast. Hawt mansion was not far away from Neor mansion.
This is actually nor Neor family mansion. This is Otthen’s mansion. He purchased it after their marriage.
Solen got out, his face drawn with concern as he hurried over to her.
His eyes scanned her face, taking in her soaked clothes and the pain and exhaustion written across her features.
“Cambrik…” he said softly, reaching out but pausing, as though respecting her space. “Let’s get you out of the rain.”
He guided her into the warmth of his car, closing the door gently behind her before slipping into the driver’s seat.
For a few moments, he said nothing, letting her gather herself in the quiet, safe cocoon of the car. Finally, he spoke, his voice gentle, without any hint of judgment.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, glancing over at her with a patient expression, one that seemed to invite her to share whatever she was ready to let go of.
Cambrik took a shuddering breath, the flood of emotions she’d held back threatening to spill over. She looked at him, feeling a faint flicker of trust in his steady gaze, the way he looked at her as though she were not just Otthen Neor’s wife but someone worthy of care and understanding in her own right.
“I… I saw him with someone else,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “And when I tried to leave, he told me I had nothing without him. He’s right, Solen. I don’t even have a place to stay tonight.”
He watched her carefully, his gaze hardening slightly at the mention of Otthen’s words, a flicker of anger flashing in his eyes. “You don’t have nothing, Cambrik,” he said firmly, his voice steady and reassuring. “And you don’t need to stay with him, not for one second longer. You can stay at my place tonight.”
She felt a fresh wave of gratitude at his offer, though a part of her hesitated. “I don’t want to impose, Solen…”
“Trust me,” he said gently, “you’re not imposing. You have a place with me as long as you need it.”
Cambrik felt herself relax slightly, the tightness in her chest loosening as she allowed herself to accept his help. Solen’s presence was steadying, his voice grounding her, reminding her that she still had options, still had the chance to rebuild her life on her own terms.
He drove her away from Neor Mansion, Cambrik looked back one last time.
- Writer
