Broken

Chapter 27: Unwavering choices

Zac walks out of the building, his footsteps heavy with the weight of the conversation he just had. As he steps into the daylight, he spots his father waiting for him, arms crossed and expression set. Zac sighs inwardly, bracing himself for what he knows is coming.

"Don't say anything, Dad," Zac immediately says, raising a hand as if to ward off the inevitable lecture. They walk towards the parking lot, and Zac can't help but notice the familiar black BMW parked nearby. He shakes his head in recognition. "I should've known this was you," he mutters, gesturing towards the car.

Michael gives Zac a long, hard look, shaking his head slowly as if in disappointment. "That's the woman you're choosing over your family?" Michael questions, pointing back towards the building where Fatima's office looms.

Zac stops walking, turning to face his father directly. His jaw tightens, and he meets Michael's gaze without flinching. "Dad, I'm not choosing anyone," Zac begins, his voice steady but firm. "But if I have to, I will."

Michael's eyes narrow, his expression growing more stern. He folds his arms across his chest, his stance challenging. "And who would you choose, Zachary?" he asks, the question hanging in the air like a dare.

Without a moment's hesitation, Zac answers, his voice unwavering. "Fatima."

The name leaves his lips with a finality that leaves no room for doubt. Michael's face hardens, but Zac doesn't back down. The tension between them is palpable, a silent standoff between father and son. Zac knows the weight of his words, the potential consequences of this choice, but he stands by it. For him, this isn't just about love; it's about standing by his convictions and the person he's chosen to be with, no matter the cost.
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Fatima arrived at the secluded spot Zac had chosen for their picnic, her eyes lighting up with delight as she took in the scene. The blanket was spread out on the neatly cut grass, surrounded by trees that offered a sense of privacy while allowing just enough sunlight to filter through. The faint sounds of the busy streets beyond were present but distant, adding to the serene atmosphere. She couldn't help but smile at how thoughtfully everything was set up.

"This is so nice," Fatima said, swinging the large gift bag in her hand back and forth as she approached Zac.

Zac looked up from his work and grinned. "You like it?" he asked, pride evident in his voice.

"I do," she replied, her smile widening as she admired the setup. She then turned to Jose, her driver and bodyguard, who was standing nearby. "I'll be fine, Jose. You can take the rest of the day off."

Jose nodded respectfully. "Yes, ma'am." He gave Zac a quick, assessing glance before heading back to the car.

Zac watched him leave, then turned back to Fatima with a teasing smirk. "Oh, you trust me like that?" he asked, arching an eyebrow in mock disbelief.

Fatima chuckled, playing along. "I do... and because I have a gun," she said with a straight tace.

Zac's eyes widened in mock alarm. "Oh shit!" he exclaimed, clearly amused.

"Yeah, so don't try anything," she warned, though her eyes sparkled with mischief as she walked up to him.

Zac wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. "I'm just trying to explore new positions with you, that's all," he murmured with a smirk, squeezing her ass.

"Oh my god!" Fatima laughed, shaking her head. She wrapped her free arm around his neck, pulling him down for a sensual kiss. Zac responded eagerly, his grip tightening around her. As they pulled away, Fatima bit her lip and gently brushed a strand of hair away from his face.