Behind all that Glam
1613 Words
The VIP ward was unnervingly quiet.
Too quiet.
The steady hum of medical equipment filled the space, each mechanical beep a cold reminder that Justin Bennett’s life now depended on machines.
Keziah sat beside the bed, her fingers wrapped gently around her father’s hand. It was warm — but lifeless. Gone was the strength that used to reassure her with a single squeeze.
Now, there was nothing.
Across from her, Noah watched in silence, his usually sharp expression softened by concern.
“How long has he been sick?” Keziah asked suddenly.
Her voice was calm, but the question carried weight.
Noah lowered his gaze to the tiled floor.
“He developed heart disease about two years ago.”
The words struck harder than she expected.
Two years.
Two entire years.
“Were you ever going to tell me?” she asked quietly.
Each word felt carefully placed, as if speaking too loudly might shatter what little control she had left.
“I was following the boss’s orders,” Noah replied. “I’m sorry.”
Her brows knit together.
“He told you not to tell me?”
Noah nodded.
“Why?”
“He didn’t want you to worry. You were in your final year at college. He wanted you focused.”
For a moment, Keziah said nothing.
Pain pressed against her ribs.
Had he been suffering while she complained about exams… about deadlines… about trivial inconveniences?
“Was he in a lot of pain?” she whispered.
Noah managed a sad smile. “He tried his best to endure it.”
That was exactly like Justin Bennett — carrying burdens alone so no one else had to.
Tears slipped silently down her cheeks.
Noah was about to speak when his phone rang. He stepped away to answer it, his voice dropping into a low murmur at the far end of the room.
Keziah barely noticed.
Her attention remained fixed on her father’s face.
The ever-lively Justin Bennett — the man who commanded boardrooms with a glance — now lay motionless beneath sterile white sheets.
It didn’t feel real.
It couldn’t be real.
“Mrs. Hannah called,” Noah said as he returned. “She’s worried you didn’t come home. It’s almost 1 AM… you should get some rest.”
“I don’t want to go,” Keziah replied immediately. Her grip on her father’s hand tightened. “I’ll stay until he opens his eyes.”
“Your schedule won’t allow that.”
Her head snapped toward him, anger flashing through her grief.
“What freaking schedule?” she burst out. “They can all go to hell!”
The words echoed sharply against the hospital walls.
Noah didn’t flinch.
“He wouldn’t want that,” he said gently.
The anger drained from her face almost instantly.
Those schedules mattered. Justin had built his empire on discipline, precision, and presence. Missing important appointments now could spark rumors — and rumors could shake the company.
“You know you’re the only family he trusts to stand in for him,” Noah added.
She closed her eyes briefly.
He was right.
Justin Bennett was feared in business circles, respected by rivals, admired by partners — but trusted very few.
And at the very top of that short list…
Was her.
“Fine,” she said at last, though the word tasted bitter. “But who stays with him?”
“There are security guards outside the ward. No one gets in without clearance,” Noah assured her. “I’ll return after dropping you off.”
After one last lingering look at her father, she stood.
“Okay… let’s go.”
***********************************
The mansion felt unusually hollow when Keziah stepped inside.
Mrs. Hannah rose from the sofa immediately.
“How is the boss?” she asked anxiously.
Keziah slipped off her heels, exhaustion suddenly crashing over her like a wave.
“Can we talk at dawn? I’m exhausted.”
“Of course,” Mrs. Hannah said softly.
Without another word, Keziah went upstairs.
Sleep, however, refused to come easily.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw hospital lights… heard the flat tone of Dr. Kyle’s voice… felt her father’s unmoving hand.
By the time morning arrived, she had barely rested.
Still — weakness was a luxury she could not afford.
Keziah woke early and prepared for the day ahead with mechanical precision.
No matter what was happening behind closed doors, the world must never see her shaken.
Apart from her intelligence and charisma, her image was part of her power.
If she appeared different — even slightly — questions would follow.
And questions led to rumors.
So she dressed exactly as Keziah Bennett always did.
Impeccably.
Unshakably.
Untouchably.
She chose a black double-breasted blazer dress, sharply tailored to perfection. Gold buttons lined the front with military symmetry, while the fitted cut preserved an unmistakable femininity.
A white cape with black trim draped over her shoulders, giving her an air of quiet authority.
Over-the-knee black suede boots elongated her stride, each step destined to command attention.
Her voluminous waves cascaded elegantly to one side, softening the severity of her look.
Diamond studs added just enough brilliance.
Finally, she picked up her structured black leather handbag — understated, powerful, expensive without trying to be.
Armor complete.
No one would see the storm inside her.
As she entered the sitting room, the cleaners paused to greet her.
“Good morning, Keziah,” Mrs. Hannah said warmly.
“Good morning.”
Mrs. Hannah studied her carefully.
“It looks like you had trouble sleeping.”
Keziah lifted her phone, checking her reflection in the selfie camera.
“How can you tell? I made sure my makeup covered it.”
A gentle smile touched the older woman’s lips.
“I’ve been with you since you were a baby. I can always tell when something is wrong.”
For the first time that morning, Keziah’s expression softened.
“Will you have breakfast?” Mrs. Hannah asked.
“What are we having for dinner?” Keziah countered absently.
“Lobster Thermidor.”
“Fine. I’ll eat a little.”
“It’s already served.”
After forcing down a small meal she barely tasted, Keziah stepped outside.
Nelson was waiting.
Her personal assistant.
Her best friend.
Tall, striking, and immaculately dressed in a sleek black suit with a turtleneck, he looked every bit the modern executive.
The moment she saw him, the fragile composure she’d built cracked.
“Nelson…”
A tear escaped before she could stop it.
He closed the distance quickly and pulled her into a warm hug.
“Everything will be alright,” he murmured, rubbing her back soothingly.
“Dad is in a vegetative state,” she whispered, her voice splintering. “That is so not right.”
He gently pulled back, studying her face.
“Stop crying — you’ll ruin your makeup. Focus on the meetings. You know how important they are.”
Typical Nelson.
Practical when she needed grounding.
He handed her a crisp handkerchief, and she dabbed at her eyes.
“We’ll talk after the meetings,” he said.
She nodded.
“Let’s go.”
***********************************
The Mercedes-Maybach Exelero glided onto the road like a moving fortress.
Inside, silence lingered until Keziah finally asked,
“Where are we headed first?”
“The opening ceremony of K Shopping Mall.”
Her stomach tightened.
“How large will the crowd be?”
“Information leaked about your attendance,” Nelson replied calmly.
“There will be many uninvited guests.”
Crowds unsettled her — ghosts of past traumatic incidents she rarely spoke about.
“You know how much I hate crowded places.”
“I’ve arranged strict security,” he assured her.
A faint smile appeared.
“That’s why you’re the best PA in the world.”
“Glad to see you smiling.”
But the smile faded as soon as the mall came into view.
People flooded the entrance.
Phones raised.
Voices rising.
Energy surging.
“How are we getting through that?” she asked.
“The security team will escort you.”
She checked her reflection again.
“Do I still look like I cried?”
Nelson smiled reassuringly.
“You look as beautiful as always.”
Moments later, security surrounded the vehicle.
“Ready?” he asked.
“I’m good to go.”
The door opened.
Noise exploded instantly as she stepped out.
Yet Keziah Bennett walked forward with flawless composure — smiling, waving, every inch the untouchable heiress.
No one in that roaring crowd would have guessed that just hours earlier…
Her world had nearly fallen apart.
And somewhere deep inside her, an unsettling thought lingered:
If her father didn’t wake up soon…
Nothing would ever be the same again.
- Writer
