Chapter 103: In the Enemy's Zone
In the vast, tidied room-spacious like a hall-a long narrow table stretched across the center, with chairs neatly arranged around it. Andrea sat at the edge of the table, puffing slowly on his heavy wrapped tobacco, the smoke curling lazily above him. He wasn't worried, not exactly. He was only lost in thought, wondering how his next plan would unfold.
Just then, the door clicked open, and Cylene stepped inside. Her red lips curved into a poised, elegant smile as her heels clicked against the floor.
"You called for me?" she said softly.
Andrea's eyes narrowed, his heart hardening even as he returned her smile. "I know your move. Don't think you can outplay me. If every step you take is meant to ruin me, then I will destroy you first," he voiced out.
"Be careful," Andrea muttered under his breath, his gaze fixed on her.
Cylene glided closer, her smile deepening. She placed a hand lightly on his shoulder, then leaned in, her lips brushing near his ear.
"Do you really think anyone can save you from me?" she whispered.
Andrea tilted his head slightly, exhaling smoke, his voice low and steady.
"If I am going down," she said, "then we're both going down."
Cylene only smiled wider, as though his defiance amused her.
Her smile widened further, sharp as a blade.
"Alright then," he whispered. "Let's see who goes down first."
She drew back from Andrea, her heels clicking softly on the polished floor as she turned away. But before she could reach the door, his voice cut through the silence like a dagger.
"Be warned, Cylene. Your son is still in my hands. I can reach him anytime I want... use him however I please."
The words struck her like lightning. Cylene froze mid-step. Her body trembled, her knees threatening to give way. For a moment, she felt the world collapse beneath her feet-Royce. Her son.
She steadied herself with a deep breath, forcing her face into composure, though her voice betrayed her.
"What... what do you mean?" she asked, her tone hollow, shaken. She pinched her palm, as though pain could anchor her against the dread clawing at her chest.
Andrea leaned forward slightly, his gaze locked on her. "Yes, your son," he repeated with cruel calm. "You heard me right. I warned you first, Cylene. You may try to warn me last-but the first warning is never to be ignored."
Cylene's lips quivered, but her eyes burned with desperation.
"But he is still in Scott's hand," she pleaded, her voice cracking as she nearly dropped to her knees. "If you want me to follow your rules... then help me. Help me get my son back from Scott."
Andrea tilted his head, smoke curling from his tobacco. His lips curved into a cold smile.
"Really? Now you want my help?"
"Please... please, Andrea, please, just spare my son," Cylene begged, her voice cracking. "I promise-I promise-I will do whatever you want."
But her words fell dead, wasted in the ear of the devil. A maniacal, devilish laugh erupted from him, echoing through the hall.
"Woman, get out of my sight," Andrea snarled. "Oh yes-you want to return to that pit, don't you?" His eyes glinted with scorn.
As he turned to walk past her, Cylene dropped to the ground and crawled, clutching desperately at his leg. She held on tight, her tears staining the polished floor.
"Please, Andrea... please, think of the connection we once had," she cried.
"Connection?" His voice cracked like a whip. He jerked his leg, glaring down at her. "Are you mad?"
With sudden fury, Andrea kicked her in the belly. She gasped, collapsing, but he kicked her again-once, twice-until her body curled with pain. Then, with one brutal shove, he tossed her away from him as though she were nothing.
"Woman, look here," he spat, his voice venomous. "We have nothing together. You are just a pawn in my game. And the only way you survive is by bowing to me." He leaned closer, smoke seeping from his lips. "Those little plans you think you're carrying out? They will strike back at you. Mark my words. And if you dare to disobey me, I will throw you back into that pit where you've rotted for ages."
His final word lashed out like a blade. "Bitch!"
Andrea spat at her trembling form, then drew another pull of tobacco, savoring the burn in his throat. With a cruel smile, he felt pleased-and without another glance at her, he walked out of the room, leaving her broken on the floor.
.....
It was time to meet the Mareed family. Duncan had planned to take Aria home.
Aria carried herself with a delicate grace, almost doll-like, her beauty soft yet striking. Her presence was friendly and warm, like the gentle glow of pink that fills the sky at dawn.
There was something innocent and steady in the way they shared their bond. Stable, like a gentleman's word kept-that's how Duncan saw her.
The moment Aria approached, Duncan's face lit up. He rushed forward, his voice breaking with affection.
"Hey baby, you look so stunning. I missed you."
They embraced tightly, their closeness speaking louder than words.
Since their marriage was already being planned, both families had given them the privilege to see each other freely, without restriction. In many traditional customs, such liberties were not allowed; the bride and groom-to-be would often be kept apart until the wedding day. But the Silver family was different-open, generous, unbound by unnecessary rules.
And in the middle of it all was Duncan. Duncan, who stood tall, accountable, steady as a rock. He was super-not just in words, but in the way he carried everything on his shoulders, the way he looked at Aria as though she was his whole world.
In the Mareed mansion, the family members were already gathered, awaiting their arrival. Just as the cockerel crowed outside, the front door opened, and Micheal came down the stairs.
Duncan stepped forward quickly, his face lighting up.
"Oh, brother, here you are," he said warmly.
Micheal smiled, patting his younger brother on the shoulder.
"My dear brother, I never thought you'd be the first one to get married. Well, good luck to you."
Then his gaze shifted to Aria. "Oh yes... how are you doing, Aria?" he asked kindly.
Aria lowered her eyes for a moment, then smiled back at him. "Oh, brother Micheal, I'm fine. Big brother told me a lot about you, though I rarely had the chance to meet you."
"Don't worry," Micheal said with a reassuring smile. "We are family already. You'll get to know me as time goes on."
Aria's heart warmed at his words.
Duncan, proud and happy, patted his wife-to-be gently on the back before they continued. Together, they walked through the hall, greeting each family member in turn, sharing smiles, laughter, and polite words.
Aria felt presentable. She felt calm. She felt welcomed. It was as if this was a family she had known her whole life. Their kindness, their gentleness, their open smiles-everything made her feel at home.
This is what marriage should be, she thought. A family that welcomes you as their own. This is how they should treat you.
Just as Duncan continued to lead her, Aria smiled brighter, but deep inside, she was so exhausted.
Not long after, Duncan took her to his room for some rest. There, she slept soundly.
In the quiet warmth of the sunny afternoon, Aria stepped softly into her father's study. The room smelled faintly of old books and ink, the rays of light pouring through the half-open window dancing across the polished desk where Mark sat, his eyes buried in a pile of articles.
The moment he noticed her, his face softened.
"Oh, my lovely daughter, you are here," he said warmly, motioning to the chair across from him. "Come, have your seat."
Aria sat down gently, folding her hands on her lap.
"Dad, you called for me. Mom just told me as I came in that you wanted to see me immediately."
"Yes, dear." Mark nodded, adjusting himself in his chair, as if settling into the weight of his thoughts. "I would love to discuss something with you. You know, you are not getting any younger, and soon, you will be married. That means you are about to leave our family-not forever, but you will begin a new one of your own."
His voice carried both pride and worry. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.
"Since the day your mother gave birth to you, you have been a precious part of this family. You've grown up under her guidance, learning how a wife should stand beside her husband-not as a servant, but as a support. Submissive, yes, but only in responsibility, in the things needed to keep peace. Not in violence, never in violence."
Aria's eyes lowered slightly, listening to every word.
"If there is anything troubling you," Mark continued, his tone softening, "you can speak to your mother. Or even to me. Your brothers are there as well, and they will stand with you. Please, my daughter, make sure you don't disgrace this family. And more importantly, make sure you don't disgrace yourself."
He sighed deeply, the weight of years pressing into the sound. Then his eyes brightened again, tender and full of love.
"I love you so much. All those times I said, 'don't do this, don't do that,' it was never because I wanted to control you. It was because I was afraid for you. I didn't want you to go astray. And now, as you prepare for this new chapter, I only wish you well in your marriage. May you be prosperous in every aspect of your life."
The words lingered in the quiet study, heavy yet gentle, like a blessing.
Aria felt warmth spread through her chest, something she couldn't quite explain. For the first time, she felt the depth of fatherly love in its purest form.
"Yes, Dad... thank you so much," she whispered, her voice trembling as tears rolled freely down her cheeks.
Mark blinked quickly, fighting back his own tears. He didn't want her to see him cry, yet his eyes betrayed the emotions swelling inside.
Aria rose slowly, her heart heavy with both joy and sadness, and moved closer. Without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around her father. He embraced her tightly, his hands resting gently on her back.
The hug carried unspoken words, a bond unbreakable. Warmth flowed between them, father and daughter, two hearts beating in harmony, tied by love, hope, and unshakable trust.
...
The tall glass windows of Scott's office gleamed with the late sun, casting golden streaks across the polished desk. The atmosphere inside was calm, but the weight of unspoken matters filled the air.
Duncan pushed the door open after the secretary waved him in. His strides were steady, though his chest carried a tension he couldn't quite shake. Scott was seated behind the desk, his posture commanding as always, his sharp eyes lifting from the papers in front of him to meet Duncan's.
"Duncan," Scott said in a low, even tone, gesturing to the seat opposite him. "Sit."
Duncan obeyed, lowering himself into the chair. His fingers tapped once on his thigh before he stilled them. "You called for me, Scott."
Scott leaned back, studying him with the kind of gaze that seemed to strip a man bare. "Yes. I did. This isn't business, Duncan-it's family." His jaw tightened slightly. "It's about Aria."
At the mention of her name, Duncan straightened unconsciously. "Aria?" His voice held both surprise and caution.
Scott nodded slowly, folding his arms. "She is my younger sister, and you know how precious she is to the Silver family-" his eyes narrowed just a fraction, "-you are a man I trust. At least, I thought I could raise my hands to support that.
As things are going further between the two of you, I need you to keep your promise."
Duncan's throat felt dry, but he steadied his voice. "Scott, I promise not to disappoint you. What I feel for Aria is not something shallow."
Scott's gaze hardened. "Feelings are important too, I know, Duncan. But what matters even more is responsibility.
Marriage is not a game. If you touch my sister's life, you carry her future in your hands. Do you understand me?" His voice grew firmer, each word deliberate. "If you make her shed even a single tear she cannot wipe away, you'll answer to me-not as someone you know, but as Silver Scott of the Silver family."
Duncan inhaled deeply, his fists clenching at his knees. "I understand," he replied. His voice was steady, though his heart hammered in his chest. "Aria means more to me than you realize. I will protect her with my life."
Scott leaned forward, his hands resting on the desk now. The glint in his eyes softened just a little. "Good. That's what I wanted to hear. But words, Duncan-words are easy. Still, I believe you won't disappoint me."
The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, broken only by the ticking clock in the corner. Duncan finally nodded once, firm and resolute. "You'll see, Scott. You'll see."
Scott leaned back again, his lips pressing into a thin line. "For your sake, Duncan, I hope I do."