Dr Meera Saravana has been on the run for the last ten years due to a fatal misunderstanding. She ends up in New York, hoping that maybe this time everything will work out. But that's turning out to be impossible the more she gets involved with the...
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The weeks crawled by, slowly turning into months. Soon it was winter once more and here I was.
The war raged on the streets turning the whole city into a bloodbath. It was getting hard to read the newspaper in the morning. I didn't know who was going to die or who was going to be arrested. It was difficult enough seen Ivan's name splashed across the front pages.
The Silver Herald had chosen a stern looking picture of Ivan. It was him dressed in all black with his hair slicked back and his mouth set in a thin line. He looked intimidating, there was no spark in his eyes...all I could see was nothing. And it made me shiver. Glancing at him, you could tell that he was dangerous and ruthless—a perfect gangster.
What was the difference between Ivan Farewell and the man I knew?
I'll tell you: It's his eyes.
I glanced at the screen of my phone.
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It had been two months since that day in his study. I had messaged him. Not a single reply back.
I didn't want to cause a scene or cry about it but it fucking hurt. It's one thing to ignore you, but it's another to ghost you completely. I get it! I really do! But seriously?! How are is it to say that you're okay or a simple hello. I'm not asking him to spill his guts to me, I just want to know if he's alive or not.
We nearly kissed, goddamnit!
Doesn't that mean anything? Was it all in my head? I'm going crazy...and I haven't even finished a cup of tea.
"How long are you going to scowl down at your phone?" Nat leaned against the granite island, a mug of coffee in one hand and a biscuit in the other.
She scoffed when I didn't reply, her eyes glared at the screen on my phone instead. Glad to see that there was no love lost there.
"Asshole." She muttered into her coffee. "I would park my shoes up his ass but they're Valentino."
Amara caught the newspaper in my hand, her ruby coloured lips formed a scowl so fierce that Uncle Vin would've been proud. She grabbed the offending paper from my hand and tossed it to Pharaoh who didn't hesitate to shred it into pieces. I didn't know if it was my imagination or not but he stepped all over Ivan's picture and then sat on it.
