Maia

28

Word Count: 1117

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RĀWIRI'S POV

The tyres of the car skidded sharply against the rough gravel road as I accelerated toward the warehouse, the engine roaring in protest. Dust kicked up around me, clouding the air as I approached the building. Outside, I spotted a few of my men gathered in a loose circle, their chatter mingling with the smoke that curled from their cigarettes. They turned to watch me as I pulled in, their expressions shifting from casual camaraderie to focused attentiveness.

Jonah, one of my most trusted associates and a man known for his unwavering loyalty stood out among them. I watched him drop his cigarette to the ground, the ember glowing brightly for a moment before he crushed it underfoot with an emphatic motion and strode purposefully toward me.

I flung the car door open and leapt out, the sound of it slamming shut behind me echoing my rising frustration. My heart raced, fueled by a mix of anger and urgency.

"Jonah, gather Ben, James, and Sam in my office for a meeting in five minutes," I instruct firmly as I stride past him, my fists tightly clenched at my sides. The faint smell of smoke hangs in the air as I navigate through the group of men standing outside, their eyes following me with a mix of curiosity and respect. A few of them nod in acknowledgement as I continue down the corridor toward my office, determined to assert my authority in the unfolding situation. The sound of my footsteps echoes off the concrete walls, the harsh sound reinforcing the anger I feel.

I shut the door behind me, the soft click resonating in the quiet room. My gaze shifts to the decanter sitting on the polished oak table, its crystal surface catching the ambient light. I walk over, anticipation swirling within me. Carefully, I uncork the decanter, releasing the rich, woody aroma of bourbon that fills the air. As I pour a generous amount into my glass, the deep amber liquid swirls enticingly. I lift the glass to my lips, feeling the warmth of the bourbon surge through me with the first big swig. The weight of the glass feels almost reassuring in my hand, and I grip it a little too tightly, yearning for the comfort it brings.

My mind repeatedly flashes back to the dark bruises marring Maia's neck, the distinct handprints that wrapped around her wrist like cruel, unwanted jewellery, and the fear that clouded her wide eyes whenever someone approached her too quickly. How could I have been so blind to the signs? I remember the way she became increasingly jumpy, her body tensing at every unexpected sound, and how she would flinch as if anticipating a blow. The evidence was all around me; I was simply too absorbed in my own feelings of sadness and resentment to truly see her suffering. A part of me couldn't help but feel jealous of her—after all, she was the one who got to stay with Mama.

A surge of anger welled up inside me as I hurled the glass against the wall. It shattered upon impact, tiny shards scattering across the floor, while the rich amber liquid streamed down the pristine white surface, creating a vivid and chaotic stain. I stood there, the remnants of the glass glistening in the light, yet an unsettling emptiness lingered within me, leaving me far from satisfied.

A knock on the door interrupts my train of thought, pulling me back into the present. I turn around, irritation flickering across my face. "Come in," I grumble, attempting to mask my annoyance. As the door creaks open, my men trickle inside, their expressions wary and uncertain. They glance at me with a mix of apprehension and respect, hesitant as if they're unsure about the reception they'll receive. The atmosphere in the room is heavy with unspoken tension, and I can feel their eyes lingering on me, waiting for a sign that it's safe to proceed.

"I'm sure everyone here knows that my little sister has returned home," I say, pouring myself another generous drink, the liquid sloshing into the glass. As I glance around the room, I see everyone nodding, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern, waiting with bated breath for me to elaborate. "However, I've come to realise that her time away from us was far from pleasant," I continue, my voice tinged with frustration. I take a hearty swig, feeling the alcohol's warmth seep down my throat, almost a balm for the irritation bubbling inside me. "It's become clear to me that she wasn't treated with the love and respect she deserved."

"Ben, I need you to locate Jacob, Maia's stepfather. I'm aware that Alessandro has already dispatched men to search for him, but they're not putting in enough effort," I say, my voice laced with frustration. The fact that he has vanished without a trace is infuriating.

"Sam, I need you to delve into Maia's backstory. Visit the town where she grew up and dig deep to gather as much information and evidence as possible. I want a comprehensive understanding of everything that transpired in that house—her childhood, the dynamics within her family, and any incidents that raised red flags." I add, feeling the tension rise as I tighten my grip around the glass, my determination clear.

I turned my attention to Jonah and James, my expression serious. "As for you two," I said firmly, "I need you to keep a close eye on Maia." I carefully placed the glass on the table, not wanting to break another.

"Keep a close eye on her every move from a distance. I need her to be protected around the clock, without exception. You can take shifts or work as a team - I don't care. Just know this: if anything happens to Maia, it'll be your head served for dinner," I say, my voice firm and unwavering.

I observe the room filled with expectant faces, everyone nodding in agreement. They glance at me, anticipation written all over their expressions, waiting for me to continue my thoughts. But I remain silent, holding their attention. Finally, I break the stillness. "Go," I instruct, my voice steady and clear. I watch as they quickly gather themselves and rush out of the office, the place suddenly quiet. I let out a deep sigh, the weight of the moment settling on my shoulders as I took a moment to collect my thoughts. I need to punch something. I quickly gather a spare change of clothes and slung them over my shoulder, I make my way towards the gym, feeling the weight of my frustration building inside me. The thought of hitting someone helps.

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A/N - Hi guys, I just thought I'd let you know I have an Instagram account now where I'll be posting updates, maybe character inspos? Just random things really...

Feel free to follow and message me on there. Its always nice to hear some feedback or to chat. Are you guys enjoying the story so far?

Insta = @ oliviamreadz