CHAPTER FIFTEEN
1560 Words
Meanwhile in Zurich
Aziel stepped off the jet straight into a flurry of legal teams, cybersecurity experts, and foreign partners demanding answers. He didn’t sleep. Didn’t pause.
The next 36 hours were war.
In boardrooms, Aziel stood firm, dissecting the breach line by line. He identified the leak—an employee bribed by a rival firm. Contracts were shredded. Executives fired on the spot. And Aziel’s wrath was cold, calculated.
He didn’t take a single personal call—not even from Flora, whose messages had turned from pleading to profanity.
On the second night, as he stared out of the hotel window overlooking Zurich’s financial district, his phone buzzed.
A single message.
From Iris.
“Thank you for not picking up.”
He didn’t respond.
Aziel returned from Zurich with fire still in his blood. The Lantex crisis had been neutralized, the hacker traced andq detained, and Aziel had already ordered Julian to begin an aggressive acquisition of the rival firm behind the sabotage. It was a ruthless move—classic Aziel—but it wasn’t enough. Something in him was unsettled.
He walked through the vast Valen estate, exhausted but prepared to confront Flora about the countless missed calls. He hadn’t had the chance to hear her side—not with fires to put out on three continents.
He found her in her bedroom, curled under heavy blankets. Her skin was pale, damp with sweat, her hair clinging to her face. She looked up weakly when he entered.
“Aziel,” she whispered, her voice raspy. “You didn’t answer... I was so scared.”
Without hesitation, he crossed the room and touched her forehead. It was burning.
“What happened?” he asked tightly.
Flora’s lashes fluttered. “I was outside… I begged Iris to let me in… but she locked me out. I only asked for help…”
He didn’t wait to hear more. Fury climbed his throat like bile. On his way out, he met Iris coming down the hallway.
“Iris,” he said, stopping her cold. “Why was Flora calling me all night?”
“She slept in the rain,” Iris said carefully, folding her arms. “Because she insulted my entire family—including Imani. I only kept her outside for one night.”
Flora’s frail voice drifted from behind him: “I only asked for a favor… I didn’t know she’d do that…”
Aziel turned to Iris, his expression like ice. “She’s my guest. Do not ever disrespect her again.”
Flora was taken to the hospital. She was diagnosed with a mild cold—no real damage, just exhaustion and exposure. Aziel waited by her bedside, tense, still believing he was right.
They returned home together.
Iris wasn’t there—she had taken Imani out for evening walk and on a whim, stopped by the bookstore for some new storybooks and a parenting guide she’d been eyeing.
Back at the mansion, the sky darkened with more rain. Flora, still wrapped in layers, paused at the top of the stairs.
“Aziel,” she murmured.
He turned, about to ask if she was okay.
She stepped closer, her fingers curling into the collar of his shirt. “Stay with me. Just a little while.”
Before he could respond, she pressed her lips gently to his.
He didn’t resist.
Whatever restraint he had left was lost in the silence of her room.
The door closed. The curtains billowed. The world forgot them for a moment.
They became entangled, breath to breath, skin to skin.
Iris returned home just before night swallowed the sky.
One arm carried Imani, the other her bags. Rain had caught her on the walk from the car, damp hair clinging to her cheeks, but she didn’t care. Imani had laughed at the sound of it drumming on the umbrella, her little hands reaching for the drops.
Upstairs, as Iris passed the guest wing, she froze.
Low, unmistakable moans seeped from behind Flora’s door.
A soft thump.
Then again—louder.
Her stomach hollowed.
Her arms tightened instinctively around Imani. The little girl looked up at her mother, confusion flickering in her eyes. Iris said nothing. Just kept walking.
She didn’t notice, not yet, that Imani’s forehead was hot.
In their room, she started the routine—warm bath, soft pajamas.
“Mummy… I’m tired,” Imani whispered.
Iris brushed a damp curl from her face, pressing her palm to her forehead—and froze.
She was burning.
“Sorry, baby… just let Mama finish here, then I’ll get your medicine,” Iris said softly, dressing her quickly. But the redness in her cheeks wasn’t fading—it was deepening.
Then it happened.
“Imani?” Iris’s voice broke as her daughter’s knees buckled. She caught her before she hit the floor.
Her skin was blazing.
Her small body trembled, breaths short and uneven—
And then, without warning, she seized.
“No, no, no—baby!” Panic slammed into Iris, stealing her breath.
She screamed Aziel’s name, pounding her fists against the wall, shouting down the hall—
But the house answered with silence.
He didn’t come.
He didn’t care.
Outside, rain lashed the windows in furious sheets. Iris’s chest heaved, her pulse a thunder in her ears. She yanked on a coat, wrapped Imani in her blanket, and grabbed the umbrella with shaking hands.
The cold hit her like ice knives as soon as she stepped outside. Rain soaked her within seconds, plastering her hair to her face. She couldn’t drive—not in this storm, not without risking both their lives.
The road was empty—private estate, no cars, no help. She stood there, shivering, clutching Imani’s trembling body, begging the wind for someone—anyone—to hear her.
Then it hit her.
Kiato.
She fumbled for her phone, slippery in her wet hands, and dialed.
He picked up on the first ring.
“Uhmm hello?” he didn't know who he was onto.
Her voice cracked. “Kiato—it’s—Iris. Please—Imani’s burning up—she—she had a seizure—I—”
“I’m sending an ambulance right now. Stay on the line,” he said, his voice suddenly sharp, commanding. “Iris—listen to me. Keep her close. Keep her head tilted. Breathe with her. I’ve got you.”
And in that moment, with the rain beating down and her arms locked around her daughter, those three words were the only thing keeping her from breaking apart entirely.
By the time the ambulance reached her, Iris was drenched through, her teeth chattering as she clutched Imani against her chest. The paramedics moved fast, their questions firing in quick bursts over the pounding rain.
“When did the seizure start?”
“Any prior history?”
“Did she hit her head?”
Iris’s answers came in broken pieces. “Y..yess—a day before… but s-she was fine earlier… just fever—then…” Her voice broke.
They loaded Imani onto the stretcher, securing her tiny body under warm blankets as one paramedic clipped a small oxygen mask over her nose. The sight almost undid Iris completely.
The ride was a blur—sirens cutting through the storm, the city lights smeared against the wet windows. Iris sat wedged beside the stretcher, gripping Imani’s hand, whispering prayers she wasn’t sure she believed in.
When the doors burst open at the hospital bay, he was there.
Kiato.
No lab coat this time—just a dark jacket thrown over scrubs, hair damp from the weather, eyes locked on Imani.
“Let’s move her,” he said to the paramedics, his voice crisp, no hesitation. They followed his lead without question, wheeling the stretcher down the corridor.
Iris moved to follow, but Kiato glanced back. “Stay right by her side,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Inside the pediatric emergency room, he switched seamlessly into action. “Vitals—temp, BP, oxygen saturation. Get an IV line—20 gauge. Start fluids. Prep a cooling blanket.”
A nurse handed him the chart. He scanned it fast, then crouched beside Imani, his voice softening. “Hey, little fighter… we’re going to make you feel better, okay?”
Imani whimpered, her eyes glassy.
Iris stood frozen at the foot of the bed, arms crossed tightly, her soaked coat still clinging to her. She couldn’t take her eyes off her daughter, couldn’t unclench the dread in her chest.
Kiato noticed.
“Iris,” he said firmly, drawing her attention. “She’s stable right now. We’ll get the fever down, run blood work to see if there’s an infection. You did the right thing calling me.”
She swallowed hard. “If you hadn’t answered—”
“I would have,” he said simply, then turned back to his team. “Let’s keep her oxygen steady. Call me as soon as labs come in.”
The room buzzed with quiet urgency—monitors beeping, nurses moving in sync, Kiato giving orders without raising his voice. Somehow, his calm steadied her enough to breathe again.
She knew, with a cold certainty, that Aziel didn’t even know they were here.
And maybe—just maybe—she didn’t want him to.
- Writer
