The mysterious stranger~

#8

As their tears subsided, Zoya's expression turned solemn. "Sobia, promise me you'll be careful. Arham will hurt you too if he gets the chance. I can't bear thought of him harming you." Sobia's face set in determination. "I will, zoya. I'll be careful. You don't have to worry about me, okay? I'll go out for work and I'll be fine". As they ended their call, zoya lay back on her bed, gazing out the window down by the emotional storm she'd weathered. She let herself drift into deep sleep, exhausted but grateful for sobia's promise to be careful.

The room was suddenly electrified by a thunderous voice, dripping with venom, "I WANT YOU TO FIND HER!" Arham bellowed, his face twisted in rage. "Bring her to me, NOW!" He clenched his fists, wincing as he touched his injured head. His men cowered, intimidated by the fury emanating from their leader."Yes, sir! We'll find her!" they chimed in unison, scrambling to appease him.Arham's gaze swept the room, his eyes blazing with anger. "What the fuck are you all doing here?! Get out! Find her, you dumbasses! I want her in front of me, NOW!"The air was thick with tension as his men hastened to obey, eager to escape the wrath of their leader. Arham's anger was a palpable force, leaving no doubt that he would stop at nothing to find Zoya.

"Give me my phone," Arham demanded, his voice low and menacing. His men hastily handed it over, sensing the darkness brewing in their leader's mind. As he dialed the number, a sly grin spread across Arham's face. "There's only one person who can help me," he thought to himself, his eyes glinting with cunning. The phone rang, and then a familiar voice answered. Arham's laughter boomed through the room, sending chills down the spines of his men. "Ah, how's life been treating you, my old buddy?" Arham asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm and malice. The person on the other end of the line hesitated, sensing the danger lurking beneath Arham's words. But Arham just chuckled, his mind racing with the possibilities. "Let's just say, I need a favor," Arham continued, his voice dripping with menace. "And I know I can count on you to deliver."

"Meet me at my place, and don't forget to bring your..." Arham's voice trailed off as the line went dead. He was cut off, and the call ended abruptly. Arham's grin faltered, replaced by a scowl. Who dared to cut him off? He redialed the number, but it went straight to voicemail. "Interesting," Arham muttered to himself, his mind racing with possibilities. "Looks like someone wants to play games." He paced around the room, his anger simmering just below the surface. "Fine," he whispered, his voice dripping with malice. "Let's play."

Anna, the elderly woman, hurriedly searched for Mikhail, finally finding him in the entryway of the house. She noticed the phone in his hand and the abrupt end to the call. Mikhail's face was red with anger, his eyes blazing with intensity. "Mikhail," Anna said, her voice trembling with concern, as she approached him cautiously. He turned to her, his deep voice still laced with irritation. "Yea?" Anna's eyes pleaded with him to calm down. "Mikhail, I need to tell you something. I went to check on that girl, Zoya, and she has a very high fever." As soon as Mikhail heard Zoya's name, his expression changed. His anger seemed to melt away, replaced by a look of worry and concern. His eyes narrowed, his brow furrowed, and his voice softened. "What's her condition?" Mikhail asked, his deep voice filled with a newfound sense of urgency.

Mikhail's eyes blazed with fury as he stormed out of the room, his mind reeling from the sight of Zoya's fragile form shivering and sweating. He clenched his fists, his knuckles white with rage, as he struggled to contain the tempest brewing inside him. His veins bulged, pulsing with a fierce anger he'd never felt before. He wanted to lash out, to destroy anyone who dared to harm his princess. The thought of Zoya suffering was unbearable, and Mikhail's heart seethed with a protective fury. He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the storm within, but his anger only intensified. His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched, and his fists trembled with restraint. Mikhail knew he had to act, to find out who was responsible and make them pay. With a fierce determination, he turned and strode back into Zoya's room, his eyes locking onto her fragile form. He would be her shield, her protector, and her avenger. No one would ever hurt her again.

Mikhail's voice was a low, menacing growl as he barked orders into the phone. "I need every fucking little detail, now. I want to know who, what, where, and when. I want it all." His anger was simmering just below the surface, threatening to boil over at any moment. But he knew he had to keep a lid on it, for Zoya's sake. He took a deep breath, his chest heaving with restrained fury. Just then, the doctor emerged from Zoya's room, a calm and reassuring smile on his face. "Don't worry, Mikhail. She's weak but fine. Just needs plenty of rest and no stress. She'll be back on her feet soon." Mikhail nodded curtly, his arms still crossed, his eyes fixed intently on the doctor. "What about the medicine?" he asked, his voice still rough with anger. "I've given her an injection, and I'll leave some oral medication for you to administer on time," the doctor explained. "Just let her sleep for now. She needs it." Mikhail's gaze never wavered, his jaw still clenched in anger. But he nodded againHis eyes burning with a fierce determination to protect zoya at all costs.His eyes burning with a fierce determination to protect zoya at all costs.

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I'll post next chapter soon

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