Bonds

-Maya's POV-

A gnawing unease clawed at my gut, twisting and churning with every passing day. It felt like the calm before a storm, a suffocating silence that pressed in on me from all sides. Officially, things had gone quiet. No more news of bombings, no more violence erupting across the city. But the quiet felt wrong, heavy with a sense of impending doom.

People whispered in hushed tones, their eyes flickering nervously whenever they thought I wasn't looking. The news was a constant barrage of speculation and accusations, each report a fresh stab of anxiety. Ivan was working tirelessly behind the scenes, trying to mend the fractured relationships and control the narrative. My father, in his usual infuriating way, had retreated into a shell of stoic silence. Alex? He was a ghost, a name that hung heavy in the air but never materialized.

The silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. Fear, anger, confusion - they all tangled together in a knot that tightened with each passing hour. It was all too easy to pretend everything was fine, to plaster on a smile and go through the motions. But the facade felt brittle, a mask that could shatter with the slightest touch.

The worst part? I was trapped, playing a role in the den of the enemy - or at least, that's how it felt. Here I was, in the heart of Alex's company, tasked with finishing the interior design project I'd started before everything went south. It felt surreal, walking through these familiar halls, surrounded by the ghosts of normalcy.

Everywhere I turned, I felt his presence, a phantom pressing down on me. It wasn't like I saw him, not physically. But his absence was a presence all its own, a void in the air that screamed of his watchful gaze. The employees tried their best to act normal. But even their smiles seemed forced, their small talk strained under the weight of the unspoken tension.

Every creak of the floorboard, every rustle of paper, sent a jolt through me.

Was it him?

Was he watching me?

The paranoia gnawed at me, turning every shadow into a potential threat.

The questions echoed in the vast emptiness of my mind, unanswered and terrifying. I longed for the comfort of the girls, for the familiar faces and the warmth of acceptance but it felt like everyone had suddenly become stuck in their own world. Here, I was an outsider, an alien adrift in a sea of uncertainty.

Each day was a battle, a constant struggle to maintain composure amidst the swirling chaos. A part of me craved answers, yearned to confront Alex directly without Ivan this time. But another, more cautious part, held me back. I still had Adrian to worry about and his plan to expose werewolves to the world, all of this was probably working in his favour then there was that message, sometimes I just simply stared. No new one had come but I felt like I had been waiting for the other shoe to drop, like I was waiting for Alex to materialize.

The thought sent a fresh wave of nausea washing over me. The Alex I knew, the thoughtful, kind man I'd fallen for, seemed to be a distant memory. In his place stood a stranger, a man consumed by a darkness I couldn't fathom.

the eye of the storm, a temporary As the days bled into one another, the silence began to morph into something more sinister. It felt like th reprieve before the real blow hit. And as I sat alone in the empty office, surrounded by the remnants of a life that seemed to be slipping away.

I couldn't help but wonder: when the storm finally broke, would any of us be left standing?

A jolt of surprise ripped me from my spiraling thoughts as a voice cut through the tense silence.

10:29 Sat, 22 Jun d Chapter 85

"Amaya? Everything alright in here?"

I looked up to see David, the man in charge of the crew standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Oh, hey David," I managed a smile, forcing myself to appear calm. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just... finalizing some details."

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He shuffled his feet slightly, his normally confident demeanor tinged with a hint of hesitation. "Actually, there was something I wanted to ask I

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you about."

Here it comes, I thought, bracing myself. Some last-minute change, some outlandish request that would push my already stretched patience to the breaking point. Anything but going back into Alex's office.

The very thought sent a tremor through me. The lingering scent of his cologne, the stark emptiness of the space that felt like a constant reminder of his absence - it was all too much to bear. But before I could voice my reservations, David continued.

"Mr. Thorne wanted to get your opinion on the progress of his office renovation. Would you mind taking a look?"

My stomach lurched. This was how it had been. I knew he came here but I never saw him which was what made me even more uneasy. He spoke to them sending messages on what he like and didn't that would eventually reach me but I never saw him and I had avoided his office like a plague. I didn't want to go in there.

"Actually," I began, searching for an excuse, "I was just about to leave for the day. Maybe we could schedule a look-through for tomorrow?"

His brow furrowed slightly. "I understand," he said, his voice polite but firm. "But Mr. Thorne specifically requested to see it today. He's... well, he's been a bit on edge lately, and seeing some progress might help ease his mind a bit."

David gave me a pleading look, and I sighed inwardly. Part of me just wanted to run, to escape the suffocating pressure and the constant feeling of being watched. But another part, the professional part, knew I couldn't just abandon my responsibilities.

"Alright, fine," I conceded with a defeated sigh. "Let's go take a look."

David's face broke into a relieved smile. "Great! Follow me."

He led the way down the familiar hallway, the silence punctuated only by the rhythmic click of his shoes against the polished floor. With each step, my anxiety intensified. My palms grew slick with sweat, and my breath hitched in my throat.

Finally, we reached the end of the hall and stopped before the imposing mahogany door that marked the entrance to Alex's office. My stomach lurched, and for a moment, I thought I might be sick.

David placed a hand on the doorknob, his flickering briefly towards me. "Ready?"

he asked gently.

Eate In I took a deep breath, forcing myself to appear composed. "Ready as I'll ever be,"

I muttered, the words tasting like ash in my mouth.

ra David pushed the door open, revealing the familiar interior. Sunlight streamed through the large windows, illuminating the space in a soft glow. The room was mostly bare, the furniture covered in white dust sheets, but the basic layout of the renovation was already clear.

"So, what do you think?" David asked, gesturing towards the room.

I scanned the space, forcing myself to focus on the details. The clean lines, the muted color scheme.

"It's coming along nicely. The layout works well, and the light coming in from the windows is great."

David nodded, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. "Mr. Thorne was particularly interested in the lighting. He wanted to make sure there would be enough natural light for reading and working on documents."

Of course, I thought wryly. Because apparently, amidst the city wide chaos, Alex's biggest concern was the amount of natural light in his office.

"Yes," I replied, forcing a smile. "The skylights will definitely help with that."

Just as David started talking again about something else, a prickling sensation crawled up my spine. It was that feeling again, like unseen Επ eyes were boring into me. David abruptly stopped mid-sentence, his gaze snapping towards the doorway. I didn't even need to turn to know

who it was.

"Leave," a cold voice echoed from the entrance.

The single word hung heavy in the air, laced with an icy command that left no room for argument. I could see the blood drain from David's face. He offered me a weak, unconvincing smile and scurried out of the room, leaving me alone with the source of the sudden chill.

"Amaya," the voice came again, this time softer but no less insistent. "Look at me."

My body remained frozen in place, a statue unwilling to acknowledge the presence behind me. But then I felt a shift in the air pressure, a subtle movement that told me he was approaching. Goosebumps erupted on my skin as he drew closer, and a shiver ran down my spine when his hand brushed against my arm.

Slowly, reluctantly, I turned around.

There he stood, Alex, his face an unreadable mask. For a moment, our eyes locked, and I felt myself m drowning in the depths of his icy blue Im and lifet gaze. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a raw emotion. I couldn't quite decipher - regret, maybe, or anger. But then, as quickly as it appeared, the emotion vanished, replaced by a steely glint.

"We need to talk about what happened to your brother," he said, his voice low and serious.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

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