Chapter 44
713 Words
✨The Morning After.✨
Nasir Pov
Morning always arrived before permission.
Nasir stood at the glass wall, shirt half-buttoned, city stretching beneath him like a map he’d already conquered. The penthouse was quiet behind him—too quiet for what he’d allowed himself to forget.
Flora slept.
That alone was dangerous.
She lay tangled in the sheets, hair loose, face unguarded. Not performing. Not bracing. Just… there. Breathing softly, like the world had never taught her to flinch.
Nasir clenched his jaw.
This was the part he never kept.
The night had gone wrong in the worst way—gentle, unplanned, human. He’d watched her laugh into the pillow, watched her trust without bargaining for it, watched himself slow down.
A mistake. He stopped himself.
He reached for his phone.
One missed call.
Then another.
Then the message came through, sharp as a blade sliding between ribs.
Father: We need to talk. Immediately.
Nasir didn’t reply.
He knew better.
The knock came anyway.
Not at the door.
At the room.
Nasir turned just as the private elevator chimed—a sound that should not have been possible without his approval.
His security system was being overridden.
That meant only one thing.
“Stay here,” Nasir murmured, more to the room than to Flora. He pulled the door closed softly, locking it, then strode into the main living space as the elevator doors slid open.
Mr. Darven stepped out like he owned the air.
Tailored suit. Calm smile. Eyes that never wasted movement.
“You’re early,” Nasir said flatly.
Mr. Darven glanced around, taking in the glasses on the counter, the faint disorder, the scent of something domestic. His smile sharpened.
“You’re sloppy,” Mr. Darven replied. “That’s new.”
Nasir moved closer, voice low. “You bypassed my system.”
Mr. Darven shrugged. “You stopped answering. That’s worse.”
Silence thickened.
Mr. Darven’s gaze flicked—not accidentally—toward the bedroom door.
Nasir felt it like a trigger pulled.
“Careful,” Nasir warned.
Mr. Darven chuckled. “Relax. I’m not here for her.”
That was not reassuring.
“I’m here because you’ve delayed the transfer,” Mr. Darven continued. “Three offshore accounts are frozen, a meeting in Zurich was postponed, and you missed a call that explicitly stated do not miss this call.”
Nasir’s fists curled at his sides. “I handled it.”
“You didn’t,” Mr. Darven said calmly. “You disappeared.”
Another beat.
Mr. Darven stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You know what happens when you disappear, Nasir. People start wondering what you’re protecting.”
Nasir met his eyes, ice-cold. “Say what you came to say.”
Mr. Darven studied him for a long moment—then smiled like a man who’d found a crack in steel.
“There’s been an inquiry,” he said lightly. “Unofficial. Quiet. Someone’s asking questions about a girl who doesn’t exist on paper the way she should.”
The room narrowed.
Nasir didn’t move.
Mr. Darven continued, softer now. “Backgrounds like hers don’t survive scrutiny. Someone will notice the gaps. And when they do—”
“I’ll bury it,” Nasir snapped.
Mr.Darven raised a brow. “You could. Or you could do what you’ve always done.”
Nasir already knew the answer.
“End it,” Mr.Darven said. “Cleanly. Before sentiment becomes leverage.”
Behind the bedroom door, something shifted. A faint sound. A breath.
Nasir felt it immediately.
Mr Darven noticed too.
His smile returned—slow, knowing.
“You didn’t tell her who you are, did you?”
Nasir stepped forward, every inch of him lethal. “This conversation is over father.”
Mr.Darven straightened his cuffs. “No. It’s just beginning.”
He turned toward the elevator, pausing only once.
“Enjoy the morning,” Mr.Darven said. “It may be your last quiet one.”
The doors slid shut.
Silence crashed back into the penthouse.
Nasir stood there, chest tight, jaw locked.
Behind him, the bedroom door creaked open.
Flora’s voice—soft, unsure—cut through everything.
“Nasir…”
He turned to face her.
And for the first time in years, Nasir didn’t immediately know how to lie.
- Writer
