Twist Of Luck

chapter seven

Sulayman’s POV

The love of this world is so pleasurable. I love life and to say I care about anyone would be the biggest lie in history.

I remembered flinching when I got that Layla text message.

I smirked rolling up my sleeves. This girl must be up to something big by that her pyscho friend. I dropped my phone after checking the message again.

I moved out to the veranda. I spread my hands apart enjoying every minute as my cloth kissed my skin by the warm breeze and cooling every part of my body. I put my hands down for a while surveying the whole city as the sun smiled in the cloud. I walked back inside my room, picking the intercom on the shelf beside my bed to call the maid.

“Get me iced apple tea” I said into the intercom.

I brushed my hair with my hand pacing around the room. I can’t worry about this girl, nothing in this world has ever bothered me.

At least she said yes to the proposal. Signing the contract won’t be a big deal but I fear for that her phscho friend.

She almost swallowed me with her stare last night at the dinner. That girl is a hell of a pyshcho and I am crazily sure she needs help. Medical help to be precise.

The knob to my door got opened but I didn't bother to look back. "Drop it you can leave". I said roughly.

  I got a cough in reply and slowly turned back.

“omma I didn’t call for you” I said in utmost suprise, walking up to her. “I called for zenith” I gently collected the tray wearing a thin smile.

i sipped on the tea as i watched her smile at me with love.

“Mrs Asmara you can take your leave now” I said jokingly, She flashed a smile again not moving an inch.

“I guess you want to talk” I dropped the tray on the shelf. “I don’t have the time now” I yawned lazily. “I am not in the mood.

“I need to discuss something important with you” she ignored me moving closer.

Mrs Asmara is a softhearted woman.The oldest maid in the mansion. She’s from Mumbai but very good with korean cultures and norms. I call her “omma” which means mother in the korean language. She is more than a maid.

She has been here ever since I got to know the meaning of existence. She’s the only one I show kindness to and receive kindness from. She made sure I lacked nothing when my dad was out on all his business trip all my life. She knows every crone and corner of me. She tells me tales of how beautiful and elegant my mother was. I have no idea of her except pictures and letters which I receive on every of my birthday since I was 10.

I miss my mum and wish she was here with me, I take the frustration out on everyone. Only if my mum was here, only if she had watched me grow. I care about no one except my mum but she’s gone. Mrs Asmara would make sure I get everything I wanted and would try to treat me off my attitudes. She was my mum's friend and my mum has entrusted my life in her hands. I don’t blame her but this is who I am, I need no one in my life. I detest when people show kindness to me except omma.

“You know the letters your mum dropped for you” she started, sitting on the bed.

“The last of them is with me” she patted the bed softly indicating I sit.

I sat beside her. “ I had the last one on my 22nd birthday” I replied holding her hands.

“yes that’s the last one of all the birthdays” she rubbed my hands gently pausing her words.