After A Coma, My Twin Sister Returns For Revenge

Zee And Z

Zavion pov

I noticed a motorcycle zoom past me, and it caught my attention because it was a woman riding it. I couldn't help but wonder if Ethan was the one delivering pizza again. Once I stepped inside the house, I found my brother munching on a slice. I shot him a disapproving look and said, "How many times has Dad told you to stay away from junk food? You're going to end up gaining weight."

He casually took a bite of the last piece on the table and shot back, "And how many times has Dad told you to stop getting into fights? We're not struggling here, brother; we have money. You should really think about that. I'm about to inherit Dad's company, while you seem set on being a fighter. Seriously, Zavion, you have so much potential—why waste it on brawling?"

I turned to Ethan, feeling curious. "Did Dad put you up to this again? Is he trying to persuade you to get me to take over as CEO?"

He nodded, "Yeah, he did... but this time he's serious. Zavion, you really need to stop fighting. Just look at those bruises; what do you think the girls will say when they see you, Mr. Handsome? Speaking of which, did you catch a glimpse of that girl who just left?"

"No, I just saw her motorcycle leave the mansion. Why are you bringing up a delivery woman?" I asked, a bit confused.

Ethan rolled his eyes and said, "She's not just any delivery woman. Her name's Zoella, and she's seriously attractive. I mean, she's got this adorable face and flawless skin."

I couldn't help but smirk. "Wow, when did my little brother start noticing girls?"

He shot back, "I'm not gay, Zavion. I just haven't found anyone who caught my eye...until now."

I raised an eyebrow, grinning in a way that felt a bit off. "Oh really, Ethan?"

He looked at me, curious. "What?"

"Nothing. I just plan to head to my room and turn off all the lights when you go to yours," I said, glancing around the house, feeling something was off. "Where's Izzy?"

He stood up and replied, "She mentioned she has a project due early tomorrow." I waited for him to elaborate. "So, she's staying at her hostel to keep up with everything happening here," he added, taking his plate to the kitchen.

"Make sure you give her a call. I won't be around tomorrow; I've got a packed schedule."

He cut me off before I could even wrap up my thoughts. "Business. Sure, I'll give her a call, but seriously think about keeping the office."

I rolled my eyes and muttered, "That's nonsense," as I dashed up the stairs. Once I reached my room, I peeled off the bandage from my hand, wincing at the pain. I've got another fight lined up for tomorrow, and with Dad away for the next two weeks, I'm on my own. I had a hunch that Izzy was fibbing about the whole project situation, but she's old enough to handle her own stuff.

I pulled out the family photo album and found the picture of me with my childhood best friend. I was thirteen, and she was nine—an adorable little thing. It's a shame I haven't seen her or her family in ages; I really wish I could catch up with her one last time. I could still hear Mom's playful teasing about us, saying I'd end up marrying her, and we'd both be grinning from ear to ear.

Zee was the name I affectionately assigned to her, as she never revealed her true name to me; thus, I chose Zee to create a connection, given that my name also began with the letter Z. The absence of her presence weighs heavily on my heart, and I find myself longing for her companionship. Every time I encounter chocolate, I am reminded of her fondness for it, which only deepens my sense of loss.

Our first meeting occurred on a rainy Friday, when her father brought her to our mansion, presumably for a business discussion with my own father. As I descended the stairs to indulge in my customary late-night snack, I noticed her sitting there, her legs playfully jingling. She exuded an air of innocence, and when our eyes locked, I was struck by the sight of bruises marring her cheeks, prompting me to quickly avert my gaze as I hurried to the kitchen. I retrieved a can of ice cream and a plate, hoping to return to the living room to see her once more, only to find that she had vanished. Has she already departed?

A gentle voice broke the silence, "Hi," and I nearly jumped out of my skin, thinking I was seeing a ghost. When I turned to face her, I exclaimed, "You scared me!"

Her complexion was pale, and I noticed a bruise on her cheek that looked like it had been caused by a bite. "I'm so sorry," she said, flashing a smile that felt almost magical.

"How about some ice cream?" I suggested, hoping to lighten the mood.

"Is that chocolate?" she asked, her eyes lighting up with curiosity.

"Yep! Do you love chocolate too?"

She nodded enthusiastically, "It makes me happy whenever I'm feeling down. it's like my little medicine."

I chuckled, "That's cool! I like chocolate, but I have a soft spot for banana flavor." I handed her a plate of ice cream and went to grab another for myself.

"You should really try chocolate when you're feeling sad," she said as she settled onto the staircase. "Have you ever felt sad?"

I could see a flicker of pain in her eyes. "Definitely. My dad has plenty of money, but I always feel lonely when he's away on business trips. By the way, what's your name?"

She looked at me with wide eyes, a hint of fear flickering across her face. "I can't share my name; my dad would get really mad and hit me again. He's got a lot of money, and we have bodyguards at our mansion."

I felt a pang of sympathy and asked, "Why does he hurt you? You're so sweet and adorable; you don't deserve that."

She leaned in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "You can call me whatever you want, and I'll respond... just keep it between us." It was clear she was dodging my question.

I thought for a moment and suggested, "How about Zee? It really suits you."

Her eyes lit up with curiosity. "Zee? I like it! But why that name? It must mean something to you."

I smiled and replied, "It is special; I just took the 'z' from the start of my name."

She finished her ice cream and asked, "What's your name then?"

I shrugged playfully, "Since you can't tell me yours, I won't share mine either but how about you call me Z? You'll be Zee, and I'll be Z. We can be best friends."

"Best friends? I don't have one at the moment, so I guess that makes us best friends!" With a playful smile, she extended her pinky finger, and we sealed our promise with a pinky swear. The rain had finally let up, and just then, her dad emerged from his office, ready to take her home.

I was just about to tuck a cherished photo back into the album when my phone rang. It was my mom, calling to let me know she wouldn't be back for another two weeks since she was visiting grandma. She wanted to check on Izzy, and I knew if I mentioned that Izzy was at the hostel, she'd have a lot to say about it. Instead, I told her Izzy was in her room and that her phone was acting up, but I had asked Ethan to pick her up a new one tomorrow.

After our conversation wrapped up, I settled onto my bed, realizing I needed to rise early for my flight to Brazil. My dad looks at me with disappointment, as if I were wasting my potential by choosing not to follow in the family business.

He has always taken great pride in Ethan, viewing him as his favorite because Ethan consistently follows through on what is asked of him. In contrast, Izzy and I often feel like the sources of his frustration. My mom has been urging me to stop my rebellious ways, especially since I'm approaching my twenty-seventh birthday. She and Dad have even discussed the possibility of arranging a marriage for me with a friend's daughter, or at the very least, suggested I try blind dates to find someone special.

The girls I hang out with are simply those I enjoy spending time with; I have no intention of marrying any of them, and honestly, the thought of marriage doesn't appeal to me—perhaps because I haven't met anyone who truly captivates me yet.

I started packing my luggage, tossing in a few clothes, but I know Dad won't allow me to use his private jet, despite having four of them at his disposal. I can't just take the keys without permission, so I'll have to rise early to make my travel plans work. A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I contemplated the day ahead. Tomorrow promises to be quite the marathon.