India and Knight sat at their table, both of them undisturbed as they discussed business while also observing the festivities unfolding before them. The air was abuzz with laughter and joyous chatter as the Nimah and Robin, exchanged glances and waved at their guests from the altar. India's eyes, however, were devoid of the same mirth. As she watched the rituals unfold, a growing sense of irritation began to permeate her being. The more she observed the way Nimah was behaving around her fiance, the more her own past heartbreak seemed to resurface. This Robin of a guy, seemed very innocent and calm, meanwhile there was someone who was willing to do a fake wedding, probably because of the gifts she would receive after everything before finally breaking up with the husband. India didn't want to tell anyone about this because if anything that would halt the marriage happened, she would be the one to be blamed and she didn't want to leave with that regre
Maria hurried down the empty hallway, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she quickened her pace. "India! Wait! Just hear me out for God's sake, huh? India!" she called out, her voice echoing through the silent corridor. India's steps were brisk, her back rigid with tension as she forged ahead, willing to put as much distance between herself and the wedding festivities that was giving her headaches. She felt the weight of her mother's hand on her shoulder before she registered the her presence beside her. Reluctantly, India halted her retreat, turning to face Maria with a deep frown etched onto her delicate features. "Why the fuck are you following me, mum? I am an adult for goodness's sake? What do you think is going on? Can you leave me the fuck alone?" India asked, her tone laced with frustration. Maria gently cupped her daughter's face, her warm brown eyes filled with concern. "Oh my God, India... This is so not you. Why did you leave so
The crisp, autumn air nipped at Mr. Philips and Mr. Andrea's skin as they both alighted from their car which just halted at the garage, approaching the imposing facade of the police station. As the two men walked through the entrance, the familiar scent of lies, innocence and the muffled sounds of phones ringing and officers conversing enveloped them. It has been like this since they had been showing up. The night Ryan was arrested, Wraith tried stopping the police and trying to convince them that he was the one who invited him in, but the police believed he was being blackmailed and that's why he was trying to protect Ryan. The police took Ryan away, locked him up and wouldn't let anyone to come in to see him or even pay his bail for two days. Mr. Philips and Mr. Andrea approached the counter, where a seasoned police officer sat, his eyes scanning the computer screen before him. The officer looked up, his brow furrowing slightly as he took in the sight of th
Ryan heaved a heavy sigh, his heart palpitating against his ribs. He felt lost, afraid of what might happen to Nicholas. He looked up at Mr. Philips, his eyes pleading. "I am sure Niçholas is going to be fine... We just have to trust him. What about Wraith? How is he?" Mr. Andrea's expression darkened. "Well, Wraith has been taken to prison by the police," he said, his voice grave. Ryan gasped, sitting upright in shock. "Wait, why the fuck would you do that? Why would you send Wraith to prison?" he cried, shaking his head in disappointment. "He shouldn't be there!" Mr. Philips chuckled, his expression unperturbed. "Wraith is a fucking criminal, and he deserved to go to jail... He has always been a criminal working with Malakai. In fact, he was the one who confessed to the police... We had nothing to do with it." Ryan shook his head in disappointment, glaring hard at the duo. "Wait, why are you so worried about Wraith? You just came out of the prison, y
Xavier descended the stairs, his footsteps echoing through the foyer of the Avendano family villa. The wedding ceremony was finally over but the events that occured that day still hung heavily and gloomily in the air, creating tension. The usually vibrant and bustling center room felt unnervingly quiet, save for the soft murmurs of the assembled family members. Xavier's brow was furrowed, his fingers running anxiously through his neatly coiffed hair as he scanned the room, seeking out his wife. His gaze finally landed on her, standing rigid and pensive by the fireplace, her arms crossed on her chest. Their eyes met, and Xavier could see the concern etched across her features. He made his way over to her, the plush Persian rug deadening the sound of his approach. "Maria," Xavier said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Have you found India? Where is she? Have you been able to reach her?" Maria shook her head solemnly. "No, she hasn't come home since leaving Nimah's wedding s
In a moment, the door swung open, and India stood before her mother, her eyes wide with a mix of surprise and alarm. India looked directly into her mother's eyes, searching for answers. "Hold on, what did you just say? Yerins Hemsworth?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "Are you serious?" Maria nodded solemnly, her gaze locked with her daughter's. "I am afraid so," she said, her voice low and serious. "And he was acting very suspiciously. I thought you'd seen him." India's eyes widened, the pupils dilating as realization dawned on her. "I think I know why Yerins came to the wedding," she said, her voice laced with a hint of dread. Maria's brows furrowed further, her curiosity piqued. "Why, India? What do you think he's up to? He was the one who confronted me, his demeanor, his voice and even the smirk on his face spelt evil. I genuinely felt it." India took a deep breath, motioning for her mother to enter the room. "Come, let's discuss this in pr
India strode towards the parking lot, her polished heels clicking against the pavement. The morning sun glinted off her crisp, white corporate attire as she carried herself with magnificence. Her sleek, leather handbag swung gently at her side, complementing the stylish sunglasses perched on her face. She decided to ignore whoever it was that was messaging her last night, she concluded it could be a prank and she didn't want to give audience to a psychopath and since the person didn't even bother sending another message, she believed it was nothing serious even though that's what she thought about through out the night. As she approached her waiting car, India couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. The day's agenda promised to be filled with important matters, and she was eager to tackle each one with her trademark efficiency. But just as she was about to slip into the backseat, a familiar voice called out from behind. Pausing, India turned around to see he
The city streets flashed by the tinted windows, and India found herself already planning the details of the upcoming feast. She knew it would be a delicate balancing act, appeasing both the public and her father, but the sense of purpose that filled her was exhilarating. The headquarters of the Avendano enterprises finally came to view. The driver pulled up to the main entrance, and India alighted, smoothing a hand over her crisp, tailored skirt. She strode through the revolving doors, the receptionist immediately rising to her feet and curtseying as India approached. "Good afternoon, Lady Avendano," the receptionist greeted, her voice polite and deferential. "The board of directors have been waiting in the conference room." India nodded, glancing at her wristwatch. It was a few minutes past noon. "Thank you," she replied, her tone measured. "Has anyone been looking for me?" The receptionist shook her head. "No, ma'am." India pursed her lips, a slight