Candle in a Black Hole

Chapter 4

The Akkarabadi Manor

Maya pressed the accelerator to the floor. The raw, primal terror she felt propelled her toward the Akkarabadi Estate with a frantic, near-reckless speed. The moment her tyres struck the stone tiles of the front courtyard, the sensation of being tracked by those phantom eyes vanished, as though a dark curse had suddenly been lifted.

She collapsed against her seat, clutching her chest as it heaved with jagged breaths.

"What on earth is happening... who have I crossed to deserve this?" she whispered into the void before summoning the strength to step out of the car.

Only yesterday, she had viewed this house as a tedious, suffocating prison. Yet, in the seconds where fear had seized her entire being, instinct had commanded her to crawl back to her final refuge. ‘So... I truly had to crawl back here in the end,’ Maya reproached herself silently before forcing her feet to carry her inside.

Yaya, who had been sitting in the drawing room with a restless, agitated expression, rushed toward her daughter the moment the girl appeared. "Maya! You’ve returned, darling!"

Maya closed her eyes, fighting to suppress the chaos within. She shifted her stride and moved toward her mother. "Yes, Mother... I’m back. But what is it? You look quite unwell."

Yaya faltered, her face a mask of discomfort she couldn't hope to hide. Maya sensed the aura of turmoil gathering around her mother and knitted her brows. "Whatever is the matter, Mother?"

Yaya drew a deep breath, as if wringing out the last of her courage. "Tomorrow... Grandfather Frost and Alex are coming to discuss your marriage. Officially."

The announcement was a thunderbolt that struck her to the core. Maya nearly collapsed where she stood. She stumbled backward in a daze, her mind struggling to process the brutal reality. "Why so soon, Mother? I’ve only just..." ‘I only just placed my hopes with P’Thee this afternoon.’

"Go upstairs and rest. Since you’ve deigned to return, don't make us hunt for you again. You’re staying here tonight."

Banharn’s stern voice rang out from the staircase. He descended, his gaze sweeping over his shell-shocked daughter with eyes heavy with burden. Maya stared back at her father, her heart aching with a bitter sense of resentment. The rift between them widened as she realised that not a soul in this house was on her side.

"Father! Mr Zandier is only a few years younger than you! And besides, he’s—"

"That’s quite enough! Go to your room!"

The commanding, authoritative voice of Grandfather Pin cut through the air from behind them. Maya recoiled, her frame trembling like a leaf caught in a gale, severed from its branch and falling aimlessly.

Regret surged through her like a physical blow. Why had she chosen to come back here? Why hadn't she gone to Jum, or sought out P’Thee? But in the moments when fear had shattered her reason, home had been the first sanctuary to spring to mind—unaware that she was walking straight back to the very people prepared to cast her into the flames.

Slumping her shoulders, she retreated to the pink bedroom that had once been her childhood heaven. But now, it appeared drab and withered... for tomorrow, this heaven would become the threshold of the hell she was destined to endure.

Pink Bedroom, Akkarabadi Manor

The Following Morning

Maya stared at her reflection in the full-length mirror with hollow eyes. She allowed Yaya to fuss over her, dressing her like a porcelain doll without a word of protest. Her attempt to slip away under the cover of darkness had been thwarted from the very first step; she had found Grandfather Pin sitting as motionless as a stone effigy in the central hall, waiting to intercept her. The result was the confiscation of her smartphone and car keys—the final remnants of her liberty stripped away.

Ultimately, she was forced back into this seat, playing the role of a lifeless mannequin while her mother applied layers of vibrant colour to her skin.

"Mother... please, cease putting those things on my face. I am not a five-year-old child to be adorned with such glittering baubles," Maya interjected softly as she watched Yaya attempt to press a tiny crystal onto her cheekbone.

Yaya’s hand froze. "Oh... but I was under the impression this was the current fashion, darling," she murmured, yet she continued to decorate the girl’s slight frame as if it were the only thing she could offer her daughter in such an hour.

"Regardless of how much finery you drape over me, or how ethereal you make me appear... that lecherous old man won't truly look at me," Maya remarked, her voice laden with profound weary.

The words made Yaya recoil. She swallowed a bitter lump with great difficulty. "How could he possibly fail to look at my daughter... when you are so perfectly exquisite?"

"You know the truth of it in your heart, Mother." Maya met her mother’s gaze through the reflection, her eyes brimming with reproach. "You’ve seen the reports—the endless parade of women on his arm. And what of the ones he keeps hidden away? Even the dramas you so enjoy portray such things... so tell me, what makes woman number one-thousand-and-one any different from just another plaything in his collection?"

Maya closed her eyes, allowing tears to well at the brim as she surrendered to the destiny her mother had handed her.

Yaya pressed her lips into a thin, tight line. Her daughter’s words had lanced through her heart, leaving it raw and bleeding, for she knew better than anyone that what Maya said was a reality far more brutal than any fiction.

Drawing Room, Akkarabadi Manor

Maya sat in rigid silence beside Yaya, who was struggling to conceal the visible tremor in her hands. A wave of agony and suffocating tension radiated through the room, heavy enough to choke the breath from one's lungs. At this very moment, Maya felt she was nothing more than an ornament in the grand hall—a porcelain figure put on display to be appraised by its prospective owner. Or, to be more precise... to have a price tag affixed to a new plaything destined for a private collection.

"Cease looking as though I am sending you to the slaughterhouse," Grandfather Pin remarked, his voice resonating with a sharp edge of rebuke as the clock hands neared the hour of their guests’ arrival.

Maya closed her eyes and drew a heavy, laboured breath. She fought to compose her features, desperate not to appear too wretched, even though she knew with soul-crushing certainty that within minutes, she would inevitably become nothing more than woman number one-thousand-and-one.

When the appointed hour arrived, the butler escorted Grandfather Frost and Alex into the drawing room. The heavy atmosphere that had previously hung over the chamber instantly curdled into a tense stillness. Frost entered with a beaming countenance, the very picture of a benevolent patriarch. This stood in stark contrast to the towering figure following closely in his wake. Alex’s expression was austere and frigid, looking for all the world as though his grandfather had dragged him away from a pleasant dream merely to perform the chore of acquiring a forced new plaything.

"Have you come to your senses then, old Pin?" Frost moved to embrace his old friend with the casual brevity of a lifelong confidant before they settled into their seats.

"Heigh-ho... I grow older by the day. I have but one child, and but one grandchild. If you give me your word that you will care for my granddaughter well, then I am prepared to agree." Pin spoke while casting a measuring look toward Alex. His granddaughter’s words from the night before still echoed in his ears: 'He is only a few years younger than Father.' Yet, beholding Alex at such close quarters, the man remained flawlessly handsome. The passage of years had done nothing to diminish his elegance. But then Pin looked back at his granddaughter... Maya was still so young. She was at an age where she ought to be discovering herself in the vast world, not being thrust into a marriage merely to buy the family firm another breath of life.

"Of course, old friend! This is the granddaughter-in-law I’ve had my eye on since she was a babe," Frost teased in high spirits. "A little longer, and she might as well have been a child I raised myself." He had indeed watched Maya grow; not a single birthday had passed without him arriving with some priceless treasure in hand.

"Very well, very well. Let us get down to the brass tacks," Pin interrupted, steering the conversation toward the essential details.

An hour slipped by. Maya, seated on the periphery and not far from Alex, began to knit her brows as a familiar fragrance reached her... that crisp, commanding, and aggressive scent that still haunted her senses. It was the very same scent that had lingered in her flat—the reason she had fled back here in a state of sheer terror.

She stole a glance at the young man, her suspicion mingling with a mounting panic. Alex, it seemed, was acutely aware of her every move. Each time her beautiful eyes flickered toward him, a derisive smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. It was the smile of a predator, telling her through a single, wordless gaze... there is nowhere you can hide.

"Right then... it’s settled," Grandfather Frost concluded, his voice ringing with absolute finality. "This coming Monday, the two of them shall have their marriage registered. As for the wedding ceremony itself, we shall arrange that a month hence. Don't you fret about the formalities, old friend; since I am the one so keen to have your granddaughter as my daughter-in-law, I shall see to every detail myself."

"B-but... Mr Frost," Yaya stammered, her voice thin and trembling. Her maternal heart felt as though it were being torn asunder at the realisation that her daughter was to be legally bound so soon. It was a mere four or five days away.

Frost spared a brief glance at Yaya before locking eyes with Pin. "What say you, old man? Or would you prefer to dally further?" He knew the answer all too well; the fading pulse of ‘Bodi Group’ was pinned entirely to those two marriage certificates. There was no time left for procrastination.

Pin closed his eyes, the image of a defeated man whose strength had finally ebbed away. "Let it be as you say... Frost."

At that precise moment, Alex rose to his full, imposing height. His massive silhouette cast a long, dark shadow over Maya, making her appear infinitesimally small beneath his wing. He gazed down at his ‘bride-to-be’ with the eyes of a man holding every conceivable advantage.

"Since the matter is settled, I shall take my leave," he addressed the elders. Before departing, however, he dropped a verbal bombshell that turned the air so cold it felt like ice against the skin.

"I must get back to work to earn a living... I have to ensure I can afford enough beer for my future wife to drown her sorrows."

Alex flashed a ruthless, parting smirk at Maya, who sat frozen to her core, before striding away with an air of cold arrogance.

Maya’s entire frame convulsed with a shiver. Terror surged through her like a high-voltage current, lashing at her senses. She fought to swallow the bitterness in her throat as her heart hammered against her ribs, threatening to burst from her chest.

‘It was him... he truly was in my flat!’ Her inner scream was one of pure, unadulterated dread. ‘It means he knows everything... even my plea for help to P’Thee. He saw it all yet remained as still as a cat stalking a mouse... this is far too terrifying.’

She watched that broad back—the back of a demon in the guise of a man—with a mounting sense of despair.

"Will you stay for a meal in my humble home then, old Frost?" Pin asked his dear friend, hoping to shatter the suffocating silence.

"Naturally! I wouldn't dream of missing out on the delicacies of your house," Frost replied in high spirits, blissfully ignoring the grim atmosphere lingering in his wake.