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4. HIS ATTENTION

He doesn't know how. She got his attention.

LAYLA

Anger and frustration. Grinding teeth, clenched fists. And a heavy sigh. That’s all she has ever felt lately. To find her way on the footpath through hundreds of people made her want to scream her lungs out. Why is this place so crowded in addition to the stupid rain which never seemed to stop?

The Ylumia population has crossed this year. With the growing IT industry and the real estate business that promised everyone more than ten zeroes in their bank balances, the city started to attract people. She remembered being sixteen and dreaming of becoming one of the women she saw in a tech park, with a blazer and laptop bag and walking on stilettos. And now, she couldn even imagine her life like that.

The rain resulted in heavy traffic and she hated every minute she spent in the LZ TECH-PARK. It’s not for her. That world is so different, so posh, and so rich that she found herself feeling out of place. Every click of the heel made her look at the pumps she wore. Every wisp of expensive scent made her feel ugly. Every scathing look embarrassed her more. But she’s for the job. Yes, the job she desperately needs is to protect one person who loves her, her daughter.

A deep breath, counting from ten to one, straightening her spine, nothing helped her in keeping herself calm. She has attended a number of interviews, bartender? Check. Waitress? Check. Tutor? Check. Baby-sitting? Check. Helper? Check. Receptionist? Check. Accountant at a small coffee shop? Check. A local newspaper? Check. But they are never fancy like this. They are neither skyscrapers nor glass buildings. They are just normal, not out of reach like this building with the cursive L on it looks like.

‘You got this,’ She said to herself and entered the lobby. One look at it and she knows that she doesn’t belong here. It is spacious and airy with high ceilings. Natural light floods in through large glass windows, illuminating the polished marble floors and sleek, modern furniture. Potted plants are strategically placed to add a touch of greenery, and contemporary artwork hangs on the walls, offering a splash of colour and creativity. The air is filled with a subtle, and calming scent. But nerves danced inside her.

The receptionist, all though, gave her a dirty look like she didn’t deserve to be there, showed her the way, and Layla quickly reached the floor where the interviews were being conducted and waited with the other applicants.

A laugh made her head turn back and everything she thought she forgot came back at once. Layla stared at the girl she was once friends with through the glass door. The other girl stood on her stilettos, wearing a pencil skirt in which a silk shirt was tugged in.

“Ayesha,” Layla whispered to herself not believing her eyes. There was a time when they were inseparable. They hung out with each other every day like sisters born to different mothers.

Layla still remembers her, calling her name every day with her bicycle outside her house. She was so loud back then.

  • ‘Layla. We are late.’

‘Layla, let’s go to the mall.’

‘Layla, we will get married on the same day.’

‘Layla, our children will be best friends, just like us.’*

But one day, she disappeared from Layla’s life. Just like him. Just like everyone else.

Ayesha turned around and looked at the woman staring at her in shock. She didn’t recognise her. If the eighteen-year-old Layla looked at the present Layla, she wouldn’t either. She changed a lot. Pregnancy, hunger, work, and lack of sleep took a toll on her physical and mental health.

Something ugly took shape in her chest- Anger? Envy? Jealousy? Most of all, shame. She couldn’t understand it herself. She was happy to see her again. But she didn’t understand why they fell apart. Ayesha looked good. But why did she never show face after that incident?

Layla gave her a small smile, and Ayesha looked away as if she hdn’t seen her, and if she did, she didn’t show that she had recognised her. At least, one of them got out of that area. Ayesha did it. Layla couldn’t.

Her smile flattered, and she looked away; the humiliation of looking down on consumed her. So much for saying best friends, and silly promises. It was no one’s fault that her life was like this. But she expected at least a smile from the girl she grew up with.

The interview was completed quickly. She was able to write on the topics they had given her. She impressed HR with the bright side of years of practice of pleasing people.

Once again, she bumped into Ayesha, something she never intended to do. Ayesha has the same wide eyes she had an hour ago. But she quickly recovered and an awkward silence fell between them.

“I didn’t recognise you.” It was her friend who broke the silence first.

Layla gave her a little smile. “How are you?” She asked her.

Ayesha nodded her head. “I heard what happened. I am sorry it happened to you.” She said in a rush, as though there was some other place she needed to be.

“It was in the past,” Layla replied. “It’s good to see you.” She said and stepped away, saving herself from the rejection she always seemed to get from the people she trusted the most.

“I heard you have a child,” Ayesha shouted after her.

Layla was about to open the door and go out when her steps halted midway. She paused, and turned around, looking at the old friend.

“She happened after that incident?” Ayesha asked her. She could see the concern in her eyes. But something tells her that it’s not for Layla.

Layla nodded her head, and Ayesha looked relieved. What was she expecting?

Ayesha smiled at her and waved her hands, saying bye. And at once, Layla knows the meaning behind it.

ZALEY

He found comfort in chaos. He himself doesn’t understand this need for destruction. All he knows is that he thrives on it, and he never felt a flicker of guilt about that. The screams became distant as he walked closer to his car. The death will make another headline tomorrow. Once again, the peace spread over the city will be disrupted and once again, everyone will question what exactly is wrong with this place.

Everything is wrong with this place. And he will enjoy ruining every corner of it. The people don’t have to know about it, not yet anyway.

“Three murders in two weeks. Is it really necessary?”

Zaley paused, standing at his car, one of his hands on the hood and the other one holding the car door. He gave Remi, his soldier ( as Remi would call himself) a stern look. That’s all it took for his so-called soldier to look away and hold the door open for him.

Zaley slides in, heading to his main office. Is it necessary? No. Not at all. All the poor man did was touch a little girl inappropriately. But does he deserve to burn to death because of that? His conscience said YES. He is neither a judge nor an executioner. But he sure passes judgment on people he didn’t like and sure as hell executed them.

But someone else’s grey eyes occupied his mind. Her glare when the Mayor touched her, her plea for rescue as though he owed her something, the soft lips under his thumb, and the trembling hands. He was so sure he saw her somewhere. She wasn’t a little girl. She was there on her own, willing to submit her body, and no one forced her there. But the venom in her eyes said otherwise.

He dismissed her image from his mind for the fifth time. What’s with her? Short red hair, full lips, slender body, probably because of hunger, tired glossy eyes yet there’s that burning gaze. What’s that about her that caught his attention? He has no fucking clue. And he hates that. Because he always knew things. He controls them except for the part where a certain redhead is involved.

“Did you find out about her?” He asked Remi, whose eyes were fixated on the road.

“Yes, boss. She has a daughter who is suffering from bone marrow cancer.”

Something tugged at his heart. Everything she said is true. He watched people burning alive in front of his eyes, women, children, and innocents. But he never had an ounce of feelings for them. Nothing moved him like the thought of a five-year-old redhead he saw on Layla’s phone suffering from something so terrible, or is it the thought of her mother suffering for her? Once again, he felt at a loss.

“And the father?” He questioned him.

Remi shook his head. “She was assaulted as a teen. Gang-rape. The girl was the result of it. Her name is Lilly.”

That little piece of information changed everything for him, for her, and for the little girl he had yet to meet.

"And..." Remi hesitated, which he doesn't usually do. "One of the men who assaulted her was the mayor's son."

"Are you saying that her daughter might be the Mayor's heir?" Zaley questioned him.

Remi shrugged, his eyes on the road. "Maybe."

Now, this is intresting.

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