**CHAPTER ONE THE NIGHT THAT SHATTERED THE W WORLD**
661 Words
The air that Christmas Eve smelled of roasted chicken, fried rice, perfume, and heartbreak waiting to happen.
Amara Cole stepped out of the taxi, clutching a small gold gift bag to her chest. Harmattan wind brushed her cheeks, carrying dust and cold into her thin jacket. Tunde’s family house glowed with lights — gold, green, red — like it was trying too hard to be festive.
She swallowed, nerves knotting in her chest.
It’s Christmas. Just be happy, Amara. Just smile. Please.
She walked toward the house, heels clicking softly on the pavement. Music spilled from inside — loud, messy, too many people for what Tunde had called a small gathering.
She hesitated at the door.
Something felt wrong.
A tightness.
A whisper in her chest.
Like the universe trying to warn her.
But she pushed the feeling down and stepped inside.
Warmth and noise swallowed her whole.
Laughter.
Drinks.
Shouting.
Someone already dancing on the table.
She scanned the room.
“Tunde?” she asked one of his friends.
A shrug.
“Upstairs. I think.”
Upstairs.
Her heartbeat stuttered.
She moved through the crowd, weaving between people, heading for the staircase. Her feet slowed the higher she climbed. Halfway up, she heard something.
A gasp.
A soft moan.
Her vision blurred. Her soul seemed to float outside her body.
Her heart shattered with every step.
She didn’t stop until she reached the quiet end of the street — where the streetlights flickered and trees cast long shadows on the ground.
Amara bent forward, gripping her knees, sobbing so softly it hurt.
“What did I do wrong?” she whispered.
“You did nothing wrong.”
She froze.
The voice behind her was deep. Smooth. Almost… haunting.
She turned.
A man stood several steps away, half-hidden in the darkness beneath the trees. Tall. Broad shoulders. Dressed in black like he had stepped out of a night that had swallowed him.
But what held her breath captive were his eyes.
Golden.
Not brown.
Not amber.
Golden.
Glowing faintly in the dark.
Her heart hiccuped.
“Who… are you?”
He walked forward — slow, controlled, predatory. Like he knew exactly how much space to give her before she ran.
His presence filled the world.
“I’m someone who has waited a very long time to find you.”
A tremor ran through her bones.
Step.
Step.
Step.
He stopped a few feet away.
“You shouldn’t walk alone at night,” he murmured. “Especially when you’re hurting.”
Her mouth parted. “How do you know I’m hurting?”
His eyes softened — barely.
“I feel it.”
Her heart shattered with every step.
She didn’t stop until she reached the quiet end of the street — where the streetlights flickered and trees cast long shadows on the ground.
Amara bent forward, gripping her knees, sobbing so softly it hurt.
“What did I do wrong?” she whispered.
“You did nothing wrong.”
She froze.
The voice behind her was deep. Smooth. Almost… haunting.
She turned.
A man stood several steps away, half-hidden in the darkness beneath the trees. Tall. Broad shoulders. Dressed in black like he had stepped out of a night that had swallowed him.
But what held her breath captive were his eyes.
Golden.
Not brown.
Not amber.
Golden.
Glowing faintly in the dark.
Her heart hiccuped.
“Who… are you?”
He walked forward — slow, controlled, predatory. Like he knew exactly how much space to give her before she ran.
His presence filled the world.
“I’m someone who has waited a very long time to find you.”
A tremor ran through her bones.
Step.
Step.
Step.
He stopped a few feet away.
“You shouldn’t walk alone at night,” he murmured. “Especially when you’re hurting.”
Her mouth parted. “How do you know I’m hurting?”
His eyes softened — barely.
“I feel it.”
- Writer
