My world was disintegrating like a sandcastle in the rising tide, each grain a piece of my shattered reality slipping away.
As I downed another gulp of vodka, the harsh truth slammed into me with a merciless force, my father was gone, his absence a void that felt more like an abyss.
The bittersweet burn of alcohol didn't dull the pain; it only punctuated it, each swallow a desperate attempt to anesthetize the grief crawling under my skin.
With a shaking hand, I reached for my phone, my fingers dialing a number I had memorized through countless sleepless nights, one of my private investigators.
"I want you to uncover the names of those responsible for my father's death. I expect the information within three days, and rest assured, I will make their lives a living hell on this earth," I commanded,
my voice thick with venom as I pressed the end call button, a sense of satisfaction surging through me at the thought of delivering retribution.
They would pay dearly for their transgressions, and I'd ensure that they understood the meaning of despair.
The memory of my father's last words echoed in my mind like a chilling refrain: "..Trust no one."
Had he known the faces that hid behind the gunfire? It filled me with a sense of urgency; I craved details, and yet there were pressing matters demanding my attention before I could dive into this murky quest for vengeance.
I located the document I had been preparing, a binding agreement, a chain of sorts, that held my haunting responsibilities captive.
With a determined stride, I made my way to my room, the weight of my shirt slipping off my shoulders as I fought to ground myself amidst the chaos.
Taking a deep breath, I dialed Amanda's number, my tone brusque as I ordered, "Come to my room this instant."
Moments later, the soothing embrace of warm water enveloped me as I settled into the bathtub,
allowing its calming embrace to wash away some of my worries.
As I emerged, a towel draped low on my waist, I heard Amanda gasp.
"What the!" she exclaimed, instinctively turning away, her cheeks flaring crimson as I walked past her, my figure barely veiled by the towel.
Dressed in soft blue pajamas and a matching sleeping bonnet that reminded me of childhood innocence, she seemed worlds apart from the woman I had turned her life into.
I slid into my bathrobe, the plush fabric serving as a barrier against the chilly air, and sank into the soft embrace of my king-sized sofa.
"Turn around," I demanded, my voice husky, thick with tension. I could feel the air crackling between us.
"Go through this and sign it," I instructed, pushing the document toward her without ceremony.
As she unfolded it and began to read aloud, her brow furrowed in disbelief and irritation, the atmosphere crackling with discontent.
"Woah, rule one: don't go through my stuff. Rule two: don't meddle in my personal affairs. Rule three: don't visit me in my office. Rule four: don't go anywhere without informing me or your bodyguards. Rule five: never cheat on me, that's crucial. And rule six: never insult me or challenge me," she listed, her cat brown eyes wide.
Then she turned the page and her face turned beet red as she registered the terms.
"What? A year? This contract marriage was supposed to last a month, maybe three at most, but a year? No, I don't approve of this!" she blurted, her frustration bubbling over.
"I'm in no mood for this, Amanda! Just sign the goddamn contract!" My patience was thinning, tight as a bowstring and ready to snap.
"Are you going to force me as well?" she shot back, her voice heavy with resentment. "Like you forced me to marry you? You ruined my youthful life, and you expect me to just be okay with it?"
"It's just a matter of a year," I replied, my tone softening slightly. "After that, you're free to go wherever you wish."
"What do you mean, consummating the marriage rights?" she queried, her brow arching skeptically.
"Look, I'm now responsible for the Drake family's wealth. I may be young, but my father's death shifted everything onto my shoulders. The thought that the killer could be connected to this family..." I trailed off, realizing I was sharing too much. How could she possibly understand? Her life had been so uncomplicated before I stepped in with my burdens.
"I'm just trying to fulfill my father's dying wish," I replied, but her gaze held something unfamiliar, pity mixed with something deeper, more nuanced.
"Stop it. Don't pity me," I commanded, the words spilling out more harshly than intended.
Suddenly, she crossed the expanse between us and enveloped me in a hug, leaving me momentarily disoriented.
What was happening? This girl, a whirlwind of contradictions, could be as soft as a lamb one moment and as fierce as a lion the next. Hesitantly, I patted her back, unsure of how to react to this startling display of compassion.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you. You've been through a lot lately; I shouldn't have taken it out on you," she said, her voice notably calmer.
"It's fine. I understand if you don't want to consummate our marriage just yet. Whenever you're ready, we can tackle it together," I reassured, she nodded finally releasing me from her grasp.
"I'll help you with your father's case. I have a male friend who's a detective," she offered, a new spark lighting up her eyes.
"Really?" I asked, astonished, a smile creeping onto my face.
"Why the sudden friendliness? Am I no longer your enemy?" I teased, arching an eyebrow.
"Shut up, stupid! I'm just doing this for your father. He doesn't deserve this treatment; he was a good man," Amanda sighed heavily.
"He helped my father when our company was on the brink of bankruptcy," she added, her voice softening with nostalgia.
"How's work going?" I asked, eager to shift gears and escape the heavy emotions lingering from our recent conversation.
To be honest, I felt an unexpected, almost palpable relief at the thought of connecting with her in this way.
Amanda had created a life for herself, running a gym and a dance school all on her own.
I admired her resilience, the way she fought tooth and nail to carve her path, she was headstrong and refused to conform, even choosing to step away from university in pursuit of her dreams.
As we shared stories and laughter, I sensed a fragile bond beginning to form between us, woven through the grief and the trials that had knitted our lives together in this unconventional manner.
In that fleeting moment, the chaos surrounding us felt a little less suffocating, and perhaps, just perhaps, we would find a way to navigate this tumultuous journey together.