Chapter 38

Nyrah hurried downstairs, her hair still damp from getting ready in a rush. She cautiously took in her surroundings when James, along with his manager who was carrying some files, emerged from his study. Dressed in his business attire, James was engaged in conversation with his manager when his eyes caught sight of Nyrah standing there.

"Good afternoon, Uncle," she greeted him with a hesitant smile.

"Good afternoon, dear. And it's Dad for you," he corrected warmly.

"Okay, Dad," she responded, feeling a bit more at ease.

"Why weren't you present at breakfast?" he asked, causing Nyrah to look down in embarrassment.

"I woke up late," she admitted sheepishly.

"Then have your breakfast first, daughter. You should eat," he said, his concern evident.

"I don't think I'll get any breakfast at this time. I think—"

"Who said that?" he interrupted. "Tell the staff what you want, whether it's breakfast or lunch, and remember, even if you wake up in the evening, they will still serve you breakfast." With that, he turned to leave, but she quickly asked, "Where's Aston, Dad?"

James froze for a moment before replying, "Aston left for Forehill Graveyards."

Nyrah was surprised but managed to nod in response.

Meanwhile, at Alabaster Mansion, the midday sun cast a warm glow through the gym's large windows, illuminating the state-of-the-art equipment and casting long shadows on the polished wooden floors. Zale had been exercising for hours, his body drenched in sweat, the rhythmic thud of his push-ups filling the otherwise silent room. Every muscle in his back and arms flexed with each movement, his lean frame glistening under the natural light. A small, intricate tattoo of a phoenix spread its wings just below his neck, the bird's flames seeming to dance with every motion he made.

Alessa arrived with a tray of lunch, her steps soft but purposeful. She had been worried about Zale; he hadn't eaten anything since morning, his self-imposed fasting a silent testament to his grief over Nyrah's farewell. His parents were beginning to call it his way of mourning, but Alessa was simply tense. She set the tray down quietly, her eyes drawn to Zale's intense focus on his workout.

As she watched, she couldn't help but admire the sculpted lines of his body, the way his muscles bunched and stretched with every push-up. The tattoo caught her eye—a phoenix, symbolizing rebirth and resilience. She found herself mesmerized, her thoughts drifting to how every little thing about him exuded strength and sensuality.

Zale's voice broke through her reverie, deep and slightly breathless, yet teasing. "You weren't just here to stand and stare, were you?"

His grey eyes locked onto hers, piercing and intense, sending a shiver down her spine and a rush of warmth to her core. She could feel the heat rise to her cheeks as she closed her eyes tightly for a moment, gathering her scattered thoughts.

"I brought lunch for you," she finally managed, her voice wavering slightly as she opened her eyes to meet his gaze again. The corners of Zale's mouth lifted in a small, knowing smile, and he pushed himself up from the floor, standing to his full height.

"Thank you, Alessa," he said softly, his voice carrying a depth of emotion that belied his casual words. He reached out, gently taking the tray from her hands, their fingers brushing briefly and sending another jolt through her.

But instead of eating, he placed the tray on a nearby bench.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Alessa asked, confusion evident in her voice.

"I will, after some time," Zale replied, reaching for a towel to wipe the sweat from his brow. His movements were deliberate, almost methodical, as if he was trying to regain control over something much deeper than physical exertion.

"I'll bathe first," Zale said, his voice low and resolute.

Before he could move, Alessa stepped closer and gently took the towel from his hands. "Let me," she whispered, her voice tender yet firm. Without waiting for his response, she began to wipe his back with the towel, her touch gentle but purposeful.

The feel of the towel against his skin, combined with her closeness, sent a shiver down Zale's spine. Alessa's movements were slow and deliberate, her hands tracing the contours of his muscles, lingering for a moment on the phoenix tattoo.

Zale stiffened as he felt the soft, unexpected press of Alessa's lips on his tattoo. The warmth of her kiss sent a shiver down his spine, a mixture of surprise and something more primal. Her lips traced a path downward along his spine, each touch igniting a fire beneath his skin.

He turned slightly, catching her gaze with his. "Alessa," he breathed, his voice a mix of surprise and intensity. Zale turned to face Alessa, his hands gently cupping her cheeks. Without hesitation, he leaned in and kissed her, his lips hard and passionate against hers. The intensity of his kiss conveyed all the emotions he had been holding back—grief, longing, and a desperate need for connection.

Nyrah wandered aimlessly through the vast corridors of the mansion, her footsteps echoing softly against the polished marble floors. The opulence that surrounded her seemed to mock her solitude. Every room she passed was adorned with luxurious furnishings and elegant decor, but none of it brought her comfort. Instead, it accentuated the emptiness she felt inside.

Nyrah glanced at the sky, where dark clouds gathered, threatening rain. The impending storm seemed to mirror her own turbulent thoughts. Rain, like many other things, often carried a sense of foreboding—a bad omen lurking in its downpour. Her thoughts turned to Aston, who had not returned from the graveyard.

____________________________________________________________________

Hey everyone!

Hope you liked the chapter. Keep on voting and don't forget to follow me on instagram. Also if you have any queries then please comment. I'll try my best to answer each one of you.

Thanks for reading ❤️