Three years ago, on this very day, I was the one who told her to come to France, but before that, six months before I told her to come to France I met her.......
"Wait," Becca said, "why should I believe you? She believes you, but from the first day I saw you, I suspected you; why are you so concerned about her? What is your connection with Annie's accident? Who are you? What are your motives? Why don't you want her to remember you?"
"I know you won't believe me but before you jump to the conclusion I want you to know my part of the story," he said
"If I know you wasted my time, don't even think of getting away," Becca said. "And don't miss any details I want to know from the time you met till the accident and the reason why you lied to not know her?"
"As I told I need time "
"It's all yours, but if I know you wasted it you will see the worst of it"
"Okay, "he said and recalled every detail from the time they met, describing it as like narrating a movie.
The night was filled with a tempestuous thrumming of thunder and the persistent pattern of rain. I was wandering the deserted streets when I first spotted her: a figure sprinting through the downpour. My curiosity piqued, and I instinctively followed her, my footsteps splashing in the puddles. Perhaps I only managed to trail her for a mere four or five steps before it happened: umbrella, caught in a gust of wind, flipped inside out and was whisked away, causing her to stumble and fall to the ground.
I hurried towards her, intent on lending a hand, but as I approached, her reaction stopped me in my tracks. Fear flickered across her features as she looked up at me, whispering something that sounded like, "Don't follow me." In that instant, a cold shiver ran down my spine; an unsettling realization washed over me- someone was indeed pursuing her.
I crouched down, trying to offer a measure of comfort, but she averted her gaze, the look of terror still etched on her face. Just then, a blinding light suddenly pierced the darkness from a distance, illuminating our surroundings. The brightness seemed to bring her back to her senses. With a surge of urgency, she scrambled to her feet, gripping my hand tightly, and together we dashed down a narrow path, the faint rays of light filtering through the dense foliage.
We didn't exchange a word until the car's headlights sped past us, cutting through the dark like a knife. As the illumination faded, she turned to face me. In that fleeting moment, caught in the shaft of light, I could finally see her. Her face was raw and unadorned; she wasn't wearing a shred of makeup, yet she radiated an ethereal beauty that put even Aphrodite to shame.
Her hair, a striking shade of cinnamon, fell gracefully over her shoulders as she appraised me with a casual yet cautious look. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice steady but laced with suspicion.
"I'm just a passerby," I replied without missing a beat, hoping to disarm the tension.
"Why would a passerby stop to help me up? No joke, who are you really?" she challenged, her tone sharp and demanding.
It was then that a jarring realization hit This was the daughter of Rathan, the man responsible for my father's death, the very person I had been thirsting for revenge against. The connection settled over me like a weight, but before I could process it, she already seemed to sense my knowledge.
"I figured it out even before you said it: your father is hunting you down, am I right?" I ventured, keeping my voice polite.
"I knew it! You weren't just a passerby, were you?" she retorted, her eyes narrowing in disbelief.
"Oh no, it was merely a guess," I replied, attempting to maintain the facade.
"Wow, what a coincidence! A passerby knowing precisely what's going on is very normal, huh? Do I look like a fool to you?" she fired back, her frustration palpable.
In that stark moment beneath the stormy sky, the electric tension hung between us, and I realized we were both trapped in a web woven by our shared pasts. With no other way, I spoke the truth to her, saying that I was the son of Mohan. She immediately looked at me with concern in her eyes and said "Ohh, I am so sorry, my dad ......"
"Hey, it's not your fault, but I want revenge... Why is he chasing you though?" I asked
"Do you know why your dad died?" She asked me
"He knew something "
"Not Just something, something that was buried in the past... Your dad was my mom's friend; he knew something about my mom's disappearance, and now I know that he's chasing me to kill me to kill the truth," Annie said like it was a painful history.
"What is it about?"
"I am not clear I am trying to find it out to"
"And he thinks you know all of it?" I asked
"No... He knows that I know only the half-truth. There is something more behind it..... If he thought I knew the whole truth then I would be dead he is not trying his best to Chase me down "
"We both want something from the same person "
"We can't team up"
"Why"
"I don't believe you and also the people who were all involved in it are now dead I don't want another kill in this matter "
"Even if you don't team up with me I will find my way towards the revenge..... But if we both join hands, maybe we can make progress faster. I'll let you think." Then I handed my card to her. If you change your mind, you know whom to contact. Saying so I walked out.....
Arman's phone suddenly blared to life, the sharp ringtone slicing through the fog of his swirling thoughts like a knife. The sound jolted him from his reverie, pulling him back into the present moment. Startled by the abrupt interruption, he darted a glance at Becca, who sat across from him. She offered a gentle nod and a warm, reassuring smile that seemed to say everything would be okay. "Go ahead," she urged softly, her voice a calming presence amidst the chaos of the moment.
As he answered the call, a familiar voice crackled through the receiver, delivering news that was so startling that it felt almost too bizarre to be true. Arman's expression contorted in shock, his eyes widening in disbelief as the gravity of the information sank in. He felt as if the ground beneath him had shifted, leaving him momentarily unsteady. In a desperate attempt to regain his composure, he clenched his free hand into a tight fist, the tension swirling within him palpable. His breath caught in his throat, an almost painful lump forming as he tried to process what he was hearing.
Across from him, Becca’s brow furrowed with concern. She leaned in slightly, her piercing gaze fixed on him, her curiosity swelling as she noted the wild, bewildered look etched across his face. Whatever revelation had just been dropped on him, it was clear that his world had been irrevocably altered in that single, explosive moment. The weight of the revelation hung heavily in the air, creating an unspoken tension that enveloped them both, indicating that life as he knew it would never be the same again.
