The Tyrant's Wife

Chapter 117 - Separate Lives

That evening.

Zaria glared at the text message sent by Zeus on Creszone. That damned man must be looking for a fight, otherwise he would not be poking trouble at every turn.

[Did you have a fight with anyone?] He asked.

She gave him a call and so badly wanted to tear him into pieces. "You already know whether or not I had a fight. Why are you pretending to ask? Haven't you been stalking me despite being told not to?"

"Hey, calm down, will you? Are you…" Zeus tried to defend himself only to be interrupted by her yell.

"Get a life and stay away from mine, do you understand? I'm sick and tired of your constant stalking." She hung up and threw her phone aside, her head hurting. Why was everything getting so complicated? It was already bad enough that Lucy was back and denying her. She was trying to ignore what had happened, and now Zeus was bugging her about it too?

"Zaria,"

"I said leave me alone!" Zaria yelled, and only then did she realize that the incomer who had just called her name was Ximena. She forcefully calmed herself to see the latter into her room. "I'm sorry."

"What happened? I almost thought you were going to bite me to death." Ximena glanced at her worriedly. Who dared to mess with her friend this time? If it was that Fort guy, she was going to stab him to death.

"I don't need to think to know that you are thinking too much. It's not because of Desmond." Zaria let out a sigh. "It's Lucy—my mother."

"What about her?" Ximena frowned slightly as she wondered why the woman was suddenly coming up in a conversation after so many years.

"She is back." Zaria blinked and tried not to go insane at the thought of it. "I don't know what is wrong with her. She suddenly came to Preston and Fort Group to seek Desmond—and I'm certain she knows that I work there. She did not seem shocked when I called out to her but she ignored me."

Ximena found the behaviour repulsive but she didn't want to think evil of the woman before giving her a chance." Maybe she didn't hear you? Or she didn't recognize you. It's been so many years after all, and you are no longer the little Zaria she left behind."

"I thought so too. Until I introduced myself only for her to say that she has never been married nor has she ever had a daughter." Zaria laughed at the fact that she would even wait to hear such blatant denial. She stood and walked to her closet to pick out nightwear to change into. "I wanted to think that she had amnesia—that she had forgotten all about us and that it was not her choice. However, she remembers what kind of person Desmond was as a child. I've never heard of anyone forgetting their own children and remembering other people's sons instead."

"Uncle Theo must have said this before, forget about her." Ximena pulled her friend into a hug.

"I know. I'm trying." Zaria pressed her face against her friend's shoulder, and the latter patted her back. She was here to state that she had received a call from someone she suspected to be Lucy, who wanted a set of cosmetics. However, her suspicion had already been confirmed when she heard what Zaria had said, so she didn't mention it in the end.

"Why don't you stay over?" Zaria suggested.

"I was hoping you would ask." Ximena grabbed the nightdress that Zaria threw at her, which she changed into immediately.

The girls then dimmed the lights and climbed onto the bed, in their identical nightdresses, Zaria's in purple and Ximena's in blue.

"It's been ages since we did this." Ximena remarked, recalling their high school years when they would sleep over at each other's home every weekend. Every time they would leave Ryan out for being a boy, and he would complain about it all week.

"Remember that time when you got stuck on the roof, trying to rescue an injured kitten?" Ximena laughed at her memory of Zaria.

"Don't even talk about it. It's not half as thrilling as the time when you competed with the boys regarding who can throw rocks the farthest, then ended up hitting a rich boy on the head."

Ximena burst into laughter.

The women chatted for a while, before falling asleep.

___

Meanwhile, in Lucy's House.

The woman sipped on her coffee in the study as she worked. A young man, who was always stuck by her side, knocked and went in when he was allowed to.

"Master, Elena is here." The young man reported and stepped aside to let Lucy's assistant in.

"How did it go with Preston and Fort Group?" Lucy asked about the first thing she wanted to know.

"Mr. Fort did not agree to the deal." Elena reported.

Lucy seemed to have expected it, her lips twitched and she stifled a laugh. "What exactly did they say?"

Elena felt awkward relaying the message from the duo, who were too arrogant for their own good. How could they think that they were able to defeat Lucy? "Mr. Fort said that you can try to snatch Preston and Fort Group."

"What about Z… Miss Williams?" She stopped herself from saying the woman's name as though it was a jinx.

"Miss Williams?" Elena found it hard to repeat the message and stuttered.

"Zaria Williams. Desmond's assistant. I'm certain she had something to say." If anything, she must have a lot to say. She didn't seem to be the type of woman to keep her thoughts to herself—but the type to try and wreck whoever had hurt her even if it was a losing game.

"She said "Go to hell." It's what she said." Elena felt awkward, wondering whether Lucy would order her to go back and rip Zaria's tongue out of her mouth so she would never say a single word to anyone in future.

Contrary to her expectations, Lucy merely scoffed. "I see. Both of you may leave."

When the duo left, Lucy stood and walked to the window that was a few steps behind the desk, looking out.

It had started raining, and the droplets rolled through the vapour that had formed on the window, leaving behind crooked lines.

She ran her finger down as she looked outside at the city that seemed calm. She saw a little girl leave the house, running in her cartoon pajamas. She jumped and danced only for a woman to leave the same house and grab her. Although they were too far for her to hear a word, she knew that the woman was scolding the child, who seemed to be her daughter, for playing in the rain on such a cold night.

She reminded her of her own little princess.

The girl loved playing in the rain so much that it seemed to be an addiction.

A memory slowly formed in her mind.

"Zaria, get back here!" She shouted to the toddler who was running away from her, to play outside where it had just begun drizzling.

"Just a minute." She drawled at her childishly, in a voice that could melt hearts.

However, Lucy was immune to it. "You don't even know what that means. Get back here." She grabbed her tiny hand to lecture her. "Do you know what happens when you play in the cold? You could get a fever later and…"

"You always say that." Little Zaria protested, blinking her hazel eyes as though she wanted to cry.

"Lucy? What are the two of you doing outside?" Theodore asked from the door, then rushed into the rain to get them inside.

"Daddy! Mommy won't let me play in the rain for one minute." She complained to Theodore like a little tattletale.

"Just one minute? Come, let's play." He held Zaria by her small arms and gave her a spin, then hugged her to his chest. "One minute has elapsed. Let's go back?"

"Yes!" The little girl was full of joy despite only playing for a few seconds.

"You spoil her too much." Lucy laughed as she followed the duo into the house.

Theodore held her hand as he carried Zaria on his other arm. "I can't help it. Girls are meant to be spoiled."

…

Lucy came back to her senses when a flash of lighting struck, followed by the rumble of thunder. A smile was still plastered on her face at the thought of her family. They were such a happy family…

But not anymore.

Her smile dropped as she went back to her desk, scolding herself for even thinking about them. They had their own lives now, which she was not part of and she had her own life too. They shouldn't have ever crossed paths and if Zaria did not turn out to be Desmond's assistant, they would never have met again.

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