LOGINLucy. Old Souk, Jounieh. Later… Night. We walk through a beautiful, vibrant street of Old Souk, Jounieh. A coastal town near the waterfront, filled with beautiful classical architectural sites. “These old streets carry centuries of history that have wowed tourists for a long time,” Chase told me moments ago when we ate dinner at a quaint restaurant situated close to the waterfront. The lapping waves drifted toward us, creating a dreamy atmosphere. We were eating hummus topped with meat, warm pita bread, tabbouleh, and spicy kebabs at the time. The food mixed with the wine was exciting and sweet. Bursting across a thousand taste buds on my tongue, making everything jump to life. That was a few moments ago. And now we walk hand in hand along a cobblestoned street of Old Souk. That's what he called this place. Old Souk. The red roofed buildings are a wondrous, picturesque sight, even at this time of night. Chase is dressed in only black suit pants and a white shirt, sleeves rol
Chase. Villa Rose, Jounieh, Lebanon. Saturday, 28th March. Three days later... Morning. I'm sitting on the terrace of my private villa in the coastal area of Jounieh, near Beirut. A property my father knows nothing about. A property no one knows about because I kept it a secret. A property I named after my beautiful mother's favorite flower. Roses. The warmth and peace of this place drive me insane most times. The sea laps majestically just a few feet from the house, swooshing like beautiful wave soundtracks. The warm heat that sometimes accompanies the day when it isn't rainy winter weather only adds to its charm. And today, with my Kitten here with me, I can't quite describe the peace that travels through me each moment my gaze drifts to her. She's seated on a pool chair right now. Her long tanned legs peek out from beneath the black sheer caftan she has on. One that does little to hide the lacy two piece bikini underneath. One that had my mind drifting to dirty thoughts twen
Lucy. The rest of the world fades as Chase stands in front of me. Unscathed. Alive. Well. Everything about him is as complete as I last saw him. Cameo stands beside me. He was the one who called me last night to tell me Chase was back. “Are you serious?” I asked him when he delivered the news over the phone. “Yes, Ms Roshid,” he said calmly. Even he couldn't hide the relief and excitement in his voice. “Just get what you need ready. I will be heading your way early in the morning with the driver so we can come pick you up.” Cameo said it quietly. “The others will need to remain so they can watch your grandma's house.” I didn't argue. I didn't need to argue. All I wanted was to see Chase again. To be certain he was alive and well. To tell him how much I loved him. I remember leaping into my sister's arms. Crying out with joy. I remember Grandma and Mum being alerted by our shouts of joy. And they joined in the celebration when we broke the news to them. And when morning came, I
Chase. Chase’s Residence. New York. Wednesday, 25th March. Next day… Morning. My eyes move briskly to the clock on the wall. 11 a.m. Exhaustion settles heavily over me as I sit before the news lady, listening to the barrage of questions she has thrown at me. “How was it for you, Mr Olympus? When the kidnappers pointed the guns in your faces… Those last few seconds before the gun went off… Were you terrified?” The woman, Kate Rivers, asks. Intrigue washing across her face. She holds her breath, obviously spellbound by whatever cock and bull story I have fed them over the last few hours since I was let go. Silence settles around us. The entire news crew of Let’s Hear The Truth stands behind her, watching us. And I know millions of others are watching me too. Waiting to hear the full truth of what happened there. My truth. Memory drifts back to when Kate Rivers, host of Let’s Hear The Truth, called me three hours ago for an exclusive. “We all need to know, Mr Olympus, what h
Lucy. Ashbourne Heights, Springfield, Massachusetts. Tuesday, 24th March. Next day. Late Evening. Crying hurts. Gosh, it hurts so much. It's like my lungs want to explode. And each time, I'm begging them, just hold on a little longer. Just breathe. It's been two days, and my eyes haven't left my phone. Haven't left the news. I'm still waiting to hear news about Chase. Still waiting for any of his men outside the house to stumble in and tell me he's been found. Or maybe for Cameo to send word to me that he's back. Anything is fine by me. As I lie on my bed, I remember that night the news broke of his abduction. I remember how panic detonated inside me and made me insane. I had blindly rushed to the front of the house, ignoring the calls from my sister, my mum, and my grandmother. I had walked down the driveway of Grandma's home wearing only my kitty fluffy slippers and my pajamas. Until I was knocking on the window of the SUV that always stood beneath the street lamp watching me
Crane Olympus. New York. Hudson Crest, Irvington Village. Monday, 23rd March. Two days later… Night. All the Guccini top generals are present in Timothy's meeting room at his home. Myself included. It's been two days since our boss, Timothy Shoeman, leader of the Guccini Organization, was abducted. Two days since Chase was abducted. And the deadline given to the rest of us in the gang expires in the next ten minutes. For two days now, we've all been cooped up in here. Planning strategies. Searching. Tracking the call of their abductors. But to no avail. Worse, we don't know who kidnapped them. We only know they gave us a deadline to make a decision. To do whatever is required for the safety of our boss and Chase. My gut tightens now as my gaze fixes on the damned antique grandfather clock. Its seconds are counting down to the appointed deadline. “What do you think they will demand of us?” One of the men seated at the table murmurs, his voice low. “I don't know,” another respon
Chase. Sunday, 7th February. Next day. Morning. Lucy sleeps on the bed, and I sit here watching her, memorizing every breath she takes. The slow rise and fall of her chest. The way her body sprawls across the sheets, boneless with exhaustion. Daylight streams in through the naked floor-to-ceil
Lucy. “Give me our coats and the car keys,” Chase barks at his men as I’m carried over his shoulder and we’re thrown into the cold. “Let me go, Chase!” I struggle, but his hold is iron. The man, Cameo, hands him the coats, and Chase keeps moving toward the car. That’s when I elbow him hard.
Chase. Rovero Gardens, 57th Avenue, New York. Later... My lips tighten as we walk into the party. Expensive, gilded chandeliers hang from the high ceiling of the vast hall where the event is being held. A charity gala, the tabloids say. An event meant to raise awareness about the poverty
Lucy. Saturday, 6th February. Two days later. Evening. I sit in front of a mirror in the room, all dressed up. A rhinestone encrusted kitten mask on my face. Hair pulled into a high bun on my head. Skin, silver dress, and diamond jewelries all glowing under the soft light at the slightest moveme







