Chapter 181 : "They're not in Thailand anymore." 

The Kuala Lumpur sky bled orange and pink, another day surrendering to the humid night. But for Elara, this ordinary day held a knot of unease. Two hours earlier, at the police station, Somchai's call had shattered hid peace. It was finally happening.

He knew it was inevitable. Even if he'd hidden Ava underground, Ibrahim would have found her eventually. Elara wasn't overly worried about that part. His main concern was Ava's safety. He knew his sister well, but he could only imagine the tension brewing between her and Ibrahim. He also feared Ava might do something rash in a fit of anger, something that could put her in danger.

Elara had called both Ibrahim and Samir over fifty times, but neither picked up. Adding to his frustration, Somchai's other contacts weren't providing any new leads.

Back at the apartment, Farah was still unaware of the situation. As Elara cooked dinner, she noticed the furrow in his brow. She put down the cucumber she was cutting for their salad and walked over to him.

"What's wrong?" she asked, wrapping her arms around him from behind. "You look so tense."

Elara forced a smile. "Tense? No, everything's fine."

Farah wasn't convinced. "Come on, Elara," she said, pointing at the crease between his eyebrows. "That frown only appears when you're super stressed. Tell me what's going on."

"Just a tough case, Farah," he mumbled while turning to her, "Not much evidence, shaky witness testimonies. Trying to figure out the best way to crack it. By the way when's the last time you spoke to Ava?"

Farah, still nestled in his embrace, tilted her head in thought. "Yesterday," she replied after a moment. "She called me before she went off to see that race."

Elara gave a curt nod. 

"Is everything okay?" She gently pulled back. 

"Everything's fine. Listen, I have to meet Michael about this case. Think you can handle the rest for a bit?" He gestured towards the half-finished dish on the counter.

She raised an eyebrow. "Sure, but Michael at this hour?" 

Elara forced a smile. "Work stuff, you know how it is. I'll be back soon.

.....

Half an hour later, Elara pulled his motorbike to a stop in front of the imposing Rahman Mansion. A terse exchange with the security guard confirmed Ibrahim's absence, though Samir was apparently on the premises. Elara refused the offer to enter, opting to wait outside. The Kuala Lumpur night hummed around him.

Samir emerged from the house a few minutes later, his casual attire of faded blue pajamas and a loose white shirt. A gentle hum escaped his lips, "Hello, guest. Long time no see."

Elara cut straight to the chase. "Where's Ibrahim? Why isn't he answering my calls? And most importantly, where is he keeping Ava?"

The bodyguards, sensing the volatile situation, moved towards the pair, their hands instinctively gravitating towards their holsters. However, Samir, with a casual wave of his hand, signaled them to hold back, "Calm down, Elara. Ava is safest with the man who loves her. Let them have their moment. Ibrahim has a lot of explaining to do, and I'm sure they will be back soon. He wouldn't hide Ava, just like you hid her away."

"Nothing will be normal between them ever again," Elara's anger burned brighter, "Ava will never forgive him. He didn't just break her heart, he shattered her soul. I love Ava more than my own life, and if anything happens to her, you won't like what comes next, Samir."

"I understand. But trust me, but my brother knows what he's doing. He'll bring her back, and he'll make things right."

"Tell him to come back in one day or I'm going to Thailand to bring Ava back here myself."

"They're not in Thailand anymore." 

"What!! Not in Thailand anymore? Where...?" Before Elara could respond, his phone rang. It was Michael.

From the other end, Michael spoke, "Come to the station. We have a missing person case. A girl named Jessica Wan has been missing for the past 24 hours. Turns out she's Farah and Ava's classmate. It looks like a kidnapping."

....

The world flickered into existence, a hazy blur of colors and shapes. Her eyes, heavy with sleep, struggled to open, but with a determined effort, she forced them wider. Slowly, the image sharpened, focusing on the white ceiling above. A dull ache throbbed in her hand. The room was bathed in a soft, diffused light, creating an ethereal atmosphere.

A massive crystal chandelier dominated the ceiling. The walls, covered in a rich, deep blue wallpaper, were adorned with gilded frames. The heavy curtains, drawn shut, blocked out most of the natural light. The only source of light was the soft glow emanating from a collection of table lamps strategically placed around the room.

A wave of confusion washed over Ava. How had she ended up in this place? The last thing she remembered was the confrontation with Ibrahim. This was no longer the wooden house; it was a palace of sorts.

Her attention was drawn to left her hand. A needle was inserted into her skin, connected to a saline drip stand that stood beside the bed.

"What the hell!...." She tried to remember how many hours it had been since she last drank water, she couldn't even count how long she had been unconscious.

A faint sound pulled her attention away from her thoughts. The sound had been there all along but only now registered in her mind. It was a soft, repetitive noise, like a gentle rainfall or a steady stream flowing. Curious, Ava removed the blanket from her chest and sat up somehow. Then she saw it.

Straight ahead, a large, open bathroom, separated from the bedroom by a glass wall. The lower half of the glass wall was frosted, creating a sense of privacy while still allowing glimpses of the interior. Ibrahim was standing under the shower, the water cascading over his body in a mesmerizing rhythm. And the glass only allowed her to see only up to Ibrahim's torso. 

Her eyes widened in shock. She had never encountered a bathroom like this, where there was almost no privacy. Who in their right mind would design such a thing?

And there Ibrahim looked incredibly good. The dim light cast an ethereal glow on his fair skin, accentuating the sharp lines of his torso. Every droplet that fell seemed to trace the sculpted contours of his body, accentuating the sharp lines and gentle curves of his V-shaped torso. His strong hands ran through his hair, pushing it back from his eyes. Though Her eyes caught the glimpse of the stab wound on his stomach.

As if sensing her gaze, he turned towards he and a slow predatory smile curved on his lips. Though this small smile disturbed Ava deeply. It was as if he was completely oblivious to the power dynamic between them, to the discomfort and anger simmering within her. She looked away, unable to bear the sight of him.

Ibrahim laughed softly at her embarrassed reaction. He stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. He moved towards Ava. Gently taking her hand, he removed the needle from her arm. The saline drip had finished its course. She pulled her hand away as soon as he released it. 

Two or three stray droplets of water escaped from his hair, landing on Ava's face. She blinked and wiped the drops. Her eyes darted to his with a mixture of annoyance.

In a dry whisper, Ava asked, "Who changed my clothes? This isn't what I was wearing."

The shirt she was wearing was oversized, clearly not her own. It was a man's shirt.