Bound by Shadows

7

Arriving at the hotel's entrance, my gaze swept over the surroundings without much interest until the hotel's name, "Valida," was revealed—an opulent choice for just a day's stay. Zavian exited first, and as I followed, his extended arm offered courtesy, which I chose to dismiss, confident in my ability to manage on my own.

With Zavian leading the way into the lobby, I observed a crowd adorned in nothing but sheer luxury, presumably all branded. My gaze then shifted to the black MAJE Rib-knit mini dress I reluctantly wore, a pre-landing wardrobe change at Zavian's insistence, nudging me out of my pajamas.

While heading to the hotel's restaurant, a striking woman, gracefully moving in heels, approached us with an undeniable presence. Loose curls framed her naturally beautiful face.

"Mr. Bianci, I've secured two separate rooms, just as you requested," she declared, diving straight into business, earning a cheeky grin from my brother.

"Don't be too serious, Stella," he cooed, his hand gently resting on her waist as he guided her towards me. "Meet my sister, Zanya."

I studied her expression, ensuring my brother's touch didn't discomfort her, yet her face was reserved of emotions. Zavian's gaze lingered on her, a familiar gaze I've seen on Caelus, his eyes filled with a similar intensity.

Extending her hand gracefully, she introduces herself, "Hello, Mrs. Hudson. I'm Stella Giordani, Mr. Bianci's assistant."

I grasp her hand firmly, acknowledging her introduction. "Pleasure to meet you, Stella," I respond, forcing a smile.

"Now that introductions are out of the way, let's grab a meal—I'm starving!" Zavian and Stella walked side by side, chatting, while I trailed behind until we secured a corner table for three.

After placing our orders, Stella broached a serious topic where I was out of place to listen but she proceeded anyway.

"We need a new broker in Korea; their cover was compromised. The Japanese are shortlisting candidates, but the final decision is yours," she explained.

"Fucking hell," he cursed, massaging the bridge of his nose. After a few seconds, Zavian, nonchalantly suggested, "Let's eliminate the ones who messed up."

My discomfort was evident; Stella noticed and shot him a disapproving look. "Secrecy matters, but that's too extreme," she scolded.

"Not for me. The Koreans have been a mess for the past month. Has it been thrice that we changed brokers? Instead of another incapable choice, we make an example," Zavian shrugged, unfazed.

Stella sighed, addressing him sternly, "I'm trying to understand your perspective, but it's hard to get my head that far up my ass."

As tension lingered over the table, Stella's gaze bore into Zavian, searching for some hint of reason. Zavian though, had his breath hitched, his cheeks turning red. The restaurant hummed with the sounds of clinking cutlery and distant chatter, a contrast to the weighty discussion at hand.

He leaned back in his chair, seemingly undisturbed by the disapproval in the air. "You think subtlety works, but we've been dancing around this for too long. They need a wake-up call."

Stella, frustration evident in her eyes, retorted, "But outright violence will only escalate the situation. We need a strategic approach."

Zavian's gaze hardened, "Strategies have failed us before. It's time for decisive action."

Stella scoffs, "Spoken by the man with a reputation for being indecisive."

Amidst the ongoing debate, I pushed the food around my plate, lacking the appetite my brother displayed. I disengaged from their intense business conversation, allowing my attention to drift elsewhere.

An hour went by before Stella guided us to our rooms. Upon entering the Valida suite, I expressed my gratitude to her while pointedly ignoring Zavian, swiftly securing the door behind me. The suite, true to its name, was nothing short of impressive

My eyes were captivated by the twinkling city lights of New York as darkness enveloped the skyline. Parting the curtains, I savored the view sprawled out before me.

I pulled myself away from the view and decided to cocooned myself in its thick blankets on the bed. The weight of jet lag settled in that I wasn't bothered by changing my attire.

Lying on the bed, I stared at the ceiling, my mind with racing thoughts. The room, bathed in the soft glow of a bedside lamp, offered little solace as an unshakable numbness settled in.

I absentmindedly traced the patterns on the bedsheet, the fabric beneath my fingertips providing a temporary anchor to a reality slipped away.

Caelus persisted in occupying my thoughts, a constant presence that weighed on my heart. The ache intensified with every contemplation of him. What was he doing now? Was he even going to find me? What will I say when I see him?

Frustration gripped me, and I groaned, pressing the heels of my palms against my eyes in a feeble attempt to stop the tears that threatened to fall. Yet, my heart overruled reason as they broke free.

There was a heavy truth: He would never forgive me. He has never looked at me the same. He saw me as no other than a murderer's daughter.

Suddenly, a knock sounded through the hotel room. Hastening to the door, I opened it to find Zavian, his brow knitted in concern. "Are you crying?"

What does it look like I'm doing? Laughing?

When I said nothing, he lets himself in with an audible sigh, closing the door behind him. "If you've decided on the silent treatment, suit yourself but a little heads up, have plenty of rest tonight. We're hitting the road first thing tomorrow morning."

"Where?"

His gaze swept the room, landing on the wine rack. Retrieving a bottle, "Voila! Instructed them to hide this in my room, but lo and behold, stumbled upon them right here instead." A Cheval Blanc 1947—his choice spoke volumes. He continues, "You're joining me for work. Don't worry, Stella will be accompanying you."

Zavian uncorks the wine bottle and pours its contents into a glass. A right amount. "I sold the house since you left. Do you wish to settle down in New York? If yes, I'll tell Stella to find a decent place for you if you'd like," he swirled the wine, inhaled its aroma and took a sip.

"You'll do that for me?"

Zavian nodded, "Believe me twerp, I would do anything for you despite our fights or arguments," he admitted, clearing his throat and appearing uneasy with his own sentimentality. It was evident he wasn't accustomed to expressing such emotions.

I glanced down, contemplating, "What if I wanted to go home?"

He leaned on the kitchen counter, arms spread, and responded firmly, "Hudson failed to protect you. So, no."

"But that wasn't his fault. It just happened."

"Exactly, how could he let that happen to you?" He says, in a weak voice. He then walks over to me, "I promised mom to always protect you. I handed you over to him because he vowed to take care of you in my stead. But from the moment you got married, you suffered," his hair fell over his eyes, making it hard for me to see them. "You are the only family I have left, I hope you understand how important you are to me."

Just then, he ruffles my hair and moves back to flick my nose, walking away, "Goodnight."