Prologue

15 2 0
                                    

This is a work of fiction, names, characters, businesses, place, events, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

The air hangs heavy with the scent of roasted chicken and rosemary, a stark contrast to the cold silence that grips the dining room. Amara stands by the French doors, her gaze fixed on the scene unfolding before her. A sharp pang of pain shoots through her chest, a familiar ache that always accompanies this scene.

At the mahogany table, Zephyr Vega leans back in his chair, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he recounts a story to his wife, Leandra, and their daughter, Ravenna. His voice, usually booming with a false warmth, holds a genuine spark of amusement now. Leandra, her face a mask of indifference, occasionally offers a polite nod or a forced laugh, her gaze flitting between Zephyr and Ravenna. Ravenna, a vision of youthful arrogance, leans back in her chair, her laughter echoing through the room, a symphony of self-assuredness.

Amara watches them, their laughter a cruel mockery of her own loneliness. Seeing them so content, so at ease with each other, only deepens the wound in her heart. She can't help but wonder,

Am I not worthy of love?

Ravenna's eyes, restless and searching, always seem to be looking for someone. She has been like that ever since, she never treats Amara like her own sister. She never feels like she truly belongs to them, like she is part of their family. They never treat her like one.

Only Zephyr treats Amara like his own child, but that was a long time ago. He used to visit her every night, checking on her, asking about school, making sure she was okay. It's the hardest part—he was the only family Amara had, and then he left her too. His treatment of her changed, and Amara knows Leandra and Ravenna are behind it. They probably talked to him, convinced him to stop treating her good.

The moment Ravenna sees Amara, her eyes light up. It is like she is happy to see Amara sad and alone.

Leandra suddenly looks at Amara, a sudden smile spreading across her face. She calls out to Amara, and for a moment, a spark of hope ignites within Amara. But then, the words come, a cruel twist of the knife: "Come here, I need you to clear the table and wash the dishes."

Amara doesn't know if Leandra did it on purpose, they have a helper at home. Bakit ako? She is used to it, so she doesn't complain anymore. The two girls, are beaming with a strange kind of joy, a flicker of something like triumph in their depths. While, Zephyr, pity dances in his eyes. Amara quickly averts her gaze. She sighs and heads to the sink, her heart heavy with a familiar ache.



The air buzzes with conversation, the clinking of glasses a constant rhythm in the opulent ballroom. Amara, feeling utterly out of place amidst the sleek suits and polished smiles, navigates the crowded space with a sense of unease. She has been forced to attend this business party, a consequence of her demonic mother and sister's insistence. They know mentioning school would instantly sway Amara, the class president who couldn't bear the thought of failing her studies. So, despite her reluctance, she finds herself trapped in this world of power plays and strategic alliances, a world she doesn't understand.

She holds a glass of champagne, its bubbles tickling her nose, but her mind is elsewhere, lost in the labyrinth of business jargon. Suddenly, she bumps into someone, sending her champagne glass flying. The crystal clatters against the marble floor, shattering into a thousand pieces. "Oh my god," she gasps, her heart pounding in her chest. "I am so sorry!"

She looks up, expecting to see a flustered guest, but instead, she finds herself face-to-face with a man whose grey eyes, sharp and penetrating, seem to see right through her. His features are sharp and angular, his jawline chiseled, and his lips are pressed into a thin line, a scornful expression that seems to mock her very existence. He is dressed impeccably in a tailored suit, his presence radiating an aura of power and authority. Tall and imposing, he exudes an air of confidence that is both intimidating and alluring.

Based on what she has heard, he is the son of the most powerful businessman in the world, a name whispered with reverence and fear in the corridors of power.

For a moment, a fleeting glimpse of desire crosses his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of Amara's beauty that is both unexpected and unsettling.

"Careless," he says, his voice a low rumble. He looks down at the shattered glass, his expression unreadable. "You should be more careful."

A mix of anger and fear surges through Amara, leaving her breathless and unsteady. "I-I apologize," she says, her voice tight with frustration.  "It was an accident."

Alistair's gaze sweeps over her, taking in her simple dress and nervous demeanor. He seems to be sizing her up, judging her. "Perhaps," he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. "But accidents happen more often to those who are not paying attention."

He turns away, leaving Amara standing there. But as he disappears into the crowd, Amara can't shake the feeling that something about his gaze, that fleeting flicker in his eyes, has been more than just a momentary lapse in his icy demeanor. It is a glimpse of something...different, and it leaves her with an unsettling sense of unease.

Walang forever sa mga chapters, pero meron naman sa mga stories. So, see you soon Bell's sa next chap!

Silent Heart, Hidden DesiresWhere stories live. Discover now