Candle in a Black Hole

Chapter 3

Early Morning, The Next Day

The pale, early morning sun filtered through the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows left uncovered from the night before, coaxing Maya’s heavy eyelids open. As she stirred on the sofa, a throbbing headache surged through her temples, making her wince in discomfort. Yet, amidst the grogginess of her hangover, a chilling realization dawned on her—something was fundamentally wrong.

A peculiar scent lingered in the air.

It was a crisp, commanding fragrance, far too masculine and powerful to belong to any of her own perfumes. Then there was the matter of the room’s temperature. Maya remembered with absolute certainty that she had set the air conditioning to a frigid twenty degrees—perfect for her solitary, alcohol-fuelled brooding. But when she fumbled for the remote to check, the digital display mocked her with a steady twenty-five degrees.

"Was I truly so far gone that I’ve lost my senses...?" Maya murmured, her voice a raspy thread as she tried to reconstruct the previous night’s events. "And what on earth is that scent? It smells like a man’s cologne... or did someone actually come in here?"

The thought made her heart plummet. She racked her blurred memory, searching for any fragment of a moment where she might have risen to unlock the door. And if she had indeed let someone in, why had she not moved to the comfort of her bed instead of remaining curled up on this very sofa?

With her heart racing and her head pounding, Maya gave her head a sharp shake to dispel the encroaching panic. She forced her unsteady legs to carry her toward the bathroom, desperate to wash away the grime and the intoxication of the night before—leaving her unanswered questions to fester in the morning light.

Once the restorative power of the shower had begun to return a sense of vitality to her, Maya sat motionless, allowing suspicion to gnaw at her heart. Yet, the more she attempted to exhume her buried memories, the more she was met with nothing but a hollow, confounding void. With a sharp shake of her head to dispel the intrusive thoughts, she reached for her smartphone.

The device was riddled with missed call notifications from the previous night, vibrating incessantly as if delivering tidings of life or death.

"Jum... and P’Thee... wait, Mother called this many times?" Maya knitted her brows in surprise before deciding to return her mother's call first.

'Maya!!!' Yaya’s voice shrieked through the speaker the moment the call connected, forcing Maya to recoil and pull the handset away from her ear.

"Mother... please, lower your voice."

'Why on earth didn't you pick up? Do you have any idea how many times I’ve tried to reach you!' Yaya stammered, her voice thick with yearning and a mother’s desperate concern.

"Mother... please, allow me some privacy. I was merely stressed and wished to occupy my mind in solitude." Maya let out a long, weary sigh. She cherished her mother’s affection, but she took pride in her own conduct; she was not one to indulge in debauchery or bring scandal upon the family name.

'Maya... shall we flee to another city, darling?' Yaya ventured, her voice visibly trembling.

"Whatever are you talking about? What would we do there? Live on Grandfather’s estate and tend to the fields?" Her frown deepened, unable to fathom why her mother would propose such a bleak alternative.

'I... that is...' Yaya faltered, the words dying in her throat. Only yesterday, she had been the one coaxing her daughter to submit to the marriage with Alex for the sake of survival. Yet this morning, her maternal heart cried out for her child to escape that impending hell.

"That’s enough for now, Mother. Father and Grandfather Pin would never allow us to depart."

Maya ended the call, exhausted by the mounting chaos. After another heavy sigh, she dialled the next number awaiting her attention.

'Maya! At last, I’ve reached you. I’ve been worried sick.' The voice of Thee Siraphop—the man who represented the sole flicker of hope in her heart—rang out with urgent relief.

"P’Thee... I am so sorry. There was a bit of a muddle." Her voice was laced with genuine contrition.

'It’s quite alright. As long as you’re safe, I can breathe again... But is something the matter? Is there anything I can do to assist?'

"P’Thee... would it be convenient for you to meet me at the café beneath my flat? I truly have something of great importance to consult you about." She swallowed hard, a lump of anxiety forming in her parched throat as her heart hammered against her ribs.

'Of course. I’ll be there in half an hour.'

"Thank you, P’Thee. I shall see you then."

As Maya ended the call, she felt as though a leaden stone had been placed upon her chest.

‘If P’Thee is willing to help today... then tonight, I shall return to settle this madness regarding the wedding with Grandfather once and for all. I won't let it happen,’ she vowed silently to herself.

After sending a brief message to her dear friend Jum to confirm she was safe, she began to prepare herself. With bated breath, she headed down to wait for her 'final lifeline' at the café below.

The Café Beneath the Flat

Thirty Minutes Later

Maya sat at the furthest corner table of the café, trying to shake off the peculiar sensation that had plagued her since the moment she stepped out of her flat. It was an unyielding restlessness, as though a pair of phantom eyes were tracking her every move. Yet, whenever she glanced around, she found only the empty, tranquil atmosphere of the shop. She began to fear that her nerves had simply grown frail from the lingering effects of the previous night.

"Over here, P’Thee!" Maya waved to the lanky young man who had just entered.

Thee Siraphop walked straight over and took the seat opposite her, a gentle smile lighting up his face. "Is something the matter? You look rather peaky," he chuckled softly, his tone laced with affection. "Don't tell me my darling was out drinking until the small hours again?"

"Oh, P’Thee..." Maya murmured, her face flushing a deep crimson at being so easily found out.

"Tell me then, what could possibly drive 'my beloved' to ignore everyone’s calls and resort to solitary drinking?" Thee teased, his eyes shining with happiness as he watched her bashful reaction.

In that moment, Maya’s brow furrowed once more. A sudden chill swept across her back—that sensation of being stared at intensely refused to fade. But as she scanned the room again, she saw only a man some distance away, seemingly engrossed in work on his MacBook with a look of stern concentration. She tried to brush the paranoia aside and turned her full attention back to Thee.

"P’Thee... my father’s firm is currently facing a severe investment crisis. Do you think your family might be able to help find a solution for me?" Beneath the table, her slender hands clutched each other tightly in anxiety.

Thee’s expression soured instantly. It wasn’t that he was entirely unaware of the crisis at ‘Bodi Group’, but for the Siraphop family to bolster a technology firm that lacked its own research team was a gargantuan risk.

"I shall have to consult my parents regarding this matter first..." he began, his tone turning cautious. "But Maya, why hasn't your father considered collaborating with the government’s research teams? I should think that would be a far more sustainable path." He proposed what he believed to be the most viable business solution.

Maya bit her lip, lost in thought. "I truly don't know why Father and Grandfather haven't chosen that route."

Thee reached out, covering her trembling hands with his own. "I’ll speak with my father for you. Perhaps he might have a better way to assist." He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Maya looked into his eyes with a glimmer of hope. A faint smile finally graced her lips; at least the man before her was willing to strive for her—unlike her own kin, who seemed prepared to cast her into the flames to preserve their interests.

However, at a table further away... Barshow, who appeared to be preoccupied with his work, was silently typing every word and detailing every gesture into a report for his master.

Maya’s smile and Thee’s warmth were recorded as mere 'data points'. The photographs of their clasped hands and their every reaction were being dispatched, awaiting the cold judgement of the predator, Alex, in due course.

The 25th-Floor Flat

Maya stepped back into her sanctuary with a heart far lighter than when she had departed. The flicker of hope Thee had extended helped to disperse, at least for a moment, the dark clouds looming over her mind.

However, the instant the door swung open, an unnatural, biting chill surged forward, striking her with such force that she instinctively hunched her shoulders. The temperature in the room should not have been this frigid—not like the polar wastes—considering she was certain she had switched off the air conditioning before heading down to the café and subsequent late lunch with Thee.

But what caused her to stumble to a sudden, petrified halt... was that scent.

The charismatic, yet aggressively masculine fragrance was far more concentrated than it had been that morning. And this time, it was accompanied by the faint, acrid lingering of cigarette smoke—a scent that had no business being in the flat of a single woman.

Maya’s gaze swept the room in a fit of paranoia. Every object remained in its precise place as if nothing had transpired. There were no signs of a struggle, no evidence of a break-in, and nothing was missing.

"What on earth is happening...?" she murmured, her voice trembling with a raw edge. "Where are these scents coming from? Who would be mad enough to intrude, sit here smoking, and then vanish—all without triggering a single security alert!"

The more she dwelled on it, the more the hair on the back of her neck stood on end, chilled by the dread of an unseen presence.

Ten Minutes Prior

Alex sat on that very same sofa, his piercing gaze sweeping across the minimalist décor—a style he had never particularly cared for—with a stern, brooding expression. He had ensconced himself here the moment he received the report from Barshow. The photographs of his ‘bride-to-be’, wearing such a radiant smile while clutching the hand of another man, were a darkly comic farce.

Yet, what was even more laughable was the Siraphop family’s audacity in thinking they could interfere with his grandfather’s designs.

Alex lit an expensive cigarette, inhaling with a languid air of leisure as he contemplated his next move. Should he leave it to old Frost to grind them into the dirt, or should he take matters into his own hands? To allow her hope to swell to its absolute zenith, only to watch it shatter alongside the total ruin of the Siraphop Group... that felt like a far more delectable reward.

A predatory, ruthless smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

He rose to his full height and strode out of the room, leaving behind only the faintest traces—a lingering omen of the mastermind’s visit.

The Present

Maya swallowed hard, her throat parched and stinging with a bitter dryness. Her eyes flickered down, catching sight of a stray fleck of cigarette ash nestled within the dark grey pile of the rug beside the sofa—a damning piece of evidence that confirmed she wasn't merely seeing things or losing her mind.

"Someone was here... but how on earth did they get in!"

Panic surged past its limit, leaving her entire frame trembling violently. Without a second thought, she bolted from the flat, fleeing for her life toward the Akkarabadi Estate. At the very least, there would be guards and people there—a semblance of sanctuary.

A terrifying realization began to take root in her mind: ‘Was he here last night as well? Did he sit there, watching me while I lay drunken and unconscious?’

Maya threw herself toward the lift and raced for her car with every ounce of strength she possessed. Her heart hammered against her ribs like a war drum, so frantic that she failed to notice she had just sprinted past a towering figure leaning against a luxury car in the shadows, calmly smoking.

Alex exhaled a thin plume of white smoke, his eyes tracking her as she fled in a blind, headlong panic. There was a glimmer of dark amusement in the predator's gaze... his new plaything was becoming quite deliciously terrified.