Lesser Evil

9| The Princess & The Villain

THE PRINCESS
"Your father is dead."

I blinked. Blinked once again. And blinked some more at his words.

What sort of joke was this? It wasn't even funny.

"What?" I managed to say past my urge to snort. He had to be kidding me.

This time, Shaz moved forward, his hand almost reaching out to me but dropping back to his side. I looked at it for a second before bringing my attention back to his face.

"Your father died, princess." I reeled back from his words, the humor less expression on his face told me he wasn't joking. It felt like he stabbed me right in my chest, in my heart.

"I don't believe you." Rather I didn't want to.

Shaz sighed, this time his hand reached my arm before any of us could think. "I'm not lying, Ayat." The use of my real name was enough to tell me he wasn't joking.

My father—my father was dead.

A sob crawled up my throat that I instantly shoved back down. I wasn't going to cry, especially not in front of the man who killed my father.

I shrugged out of his hold, hating his filthy hands anywhere close to mine. He... He... I was so stupid to think he was better than whoever he kept saying was worse.

"You killed my father." I stated, fighting the burn of my eyes and chest.

His eyes actually rounded as he looked at me incredulously. "Of course not! I wasn't the one who killed him, princess, I swear I didn't. I haven't even seen your father in real life, ever."

Should I believe him?

I shook my head at him. "Why—why should I believe you? You've kidnapped me and then suddenly my father dies, I think the timings are too perfect." A humorless laugh fell out of my lips just as a tear flowed down my face. "I hate you."

If it was a flash of hurt on his face that I saw, I ignored it completely. "It wasn't me, Ayat, it wasn't. This whole thing is bigger than me and you. There are so many others involved. Please just let me explain, please?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat before asking him to go ahead and explain whatever was going on.

"I suppose your father doesn't tell you much about his work?" He was right. My father kept me in the dark about his work, saying it was of no use and dangerous for me to know about the in and outs of his clients and cases. "Two months ago, he started working on the case of Mirza Jaffer, the brother of Fariz Jaffer who's the leader of a human trafficking ring." Human trafficking. I was already feeling sick, but I nodded, urging him to continue.

"Let's say that Fariz didn't like that his brother was captured and since your father was working on the case, he... he took him, hired me to take you. And when Fariz got what he wanted from your father, he killed him, forged it to look like a car accident. The timing of Mirza's release and your father's death is too convenient but no one will be able to do anything without proofs. Proofs that Fariz wouldn't even accidentally leave behind."

My knees wobbled but I pressed myself to stay upright on the rug. "How can he just take someone's life like that, Shaz?" I realized too late that I might be asking that question from someone who could just as effortlessly take someone's life.

He smiled, one full of sorrow and what I thought was a hint of a apology. "Just the way he can sell girls and children to make money." 

I forced myself to not think of all that, but then my thought ended up straying to my father and his death until my whole body ached with the effort to not cry any harder. I gave in to myself and strode away, banging the door of, what had come to be my room, behind me.

———

THE VILLAIN

My heart squeezed when the first tear slid down her eye and then twisted when she shut the door of her room. The door that did absolutely nothing to prevent her painful cries and wails from reaching my ears, tormenting me.

I succeeded in holding myself back for a total of three minutes before I turned the handle on her door and pushed it open slowly to find her sitting on the floor, curled up against her bed.

I knelt down beside her, tentatively reaching out to touch her shoulder. "Princess." I whispered as gently as I could manage with the ball of emotions clogged up in my throat.

"He was all I had, Shaz." She was wrong about that. Somehow, she'd taken over my senses in the past two weeks until I was willing to do almost everything for her. Seeing her crying here didn't make having Fariz as a enemy such a bad idea, though I would rather kill him instead.

I ran my hand over her hair a few times as she continued to sob in her knees. I even fetched her a glass of water when she started hiccuping, held it up to her lips when her hands shook too much to be able to hold onto the glass.

When she didn't tell me to leave her alone, I sat back next to her, close enough to tell her I was there but far enough to not touch her.

"Does it hurt?" I randomly asked. She mumbled something incoherent against her arms. "Does it hurt to lose your father, princess?" I asked her a question that was as foolish as I was. Of course, it hurt her, she'd been crying nonstop for minutes now.

"My father died as well. So did my mother. But I don't think I cried this much, or if I cried at all." Her head snapped up at that as she looked at me through red swollen eyes. Her face was puffy and red, too.

"What are you saying?" It was a story I hadn't told anyone, I didn't really have anyone to tell to. But if listening to my sob story was going to distract her enough to get her to stop crying, I would repeat it a thousand times.

"My mother was a drug addict, you know. My father hadn't known that when he married her. To her credit, she tried to give up on the addiction for a few years after I was born. Unsurprisingly, she failed. My father offered to get her help for it but she made excuses every time." I stopped to look at her to see her watching me and listening to me intently while she sniffles from time to time.

"Then?" She croaked out. I almost smiled.

"Then, my father got tired of her and her addiction. She started getting angrier with time until she exploded and launched at my father with a knife. Before he died, he hit her with a vase. I watched as both of them bled out in front of me then turned away from the scene. I felt guilty for some time but..." Mindlessly, I reached up to trace the scar by my brow— one of my mother's gifts for me. "I decided that they hadn't done much for me, I shouldn't feel bad."

Her tears had dried up now, leaving streaks on her face. "Shaz... I—"

I instantly shook my head, knowing what was going to come out of her mouth next. "Don't give me your pity. If anything, just stop crying and it will be more than enough for me, hmm?" Carefully, I wiped her face with my hands, watching as she blinked up at me and shifted, not away but closer.

"Your mother was a drug addict. Why didn't she give up her addiction before marriage?" She asked, seeming genuinely curious as her head tilted adorably like whenever she was curious or confused.

I shrugged. "Maybe she didn't think it was worth it?" I wasn't sure myself, I didn't exactly 'bond' with my mother before she died eleven years ago.

I watched as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, and I could practically see the gears in her head moving. "Would you think that it's worth it? To give up your addiction if you got married or fell in love or something?" The question caught me off-guard. It wasn't exactly a casual topic and coming from her... It fueled my feelings.

But I knew what my answer would be. "Absolutely. I don't want anyone to deal with my addiction except me. No one deserves to get stuck with a man like me."

What came out of her mouth next shocked me.

"You're not that bad."

And I finally let myself smile.