Faiv / Leema

I was alarmed by the sudden threatening voice of his that even my sob stopped in its track. But it was the grip around my wrist that tightened and twisted caught me off guard.

I winced at the pain, trying to yank myself free but failed. However, the moment I turned my head, I screamed, startling the butler enough to loosen his grip.

"HEYYYYY!"

There was a sharp metallic object reflected from the lamppost, settling dangerously close to Crawford's neck.

"PUT THAT AWAY!!!"

I was not able to reach his hand but I tried to pull his arm down. Between his strength and mine, it was futile.

'What was he thinking???'

It was not me who wield a knife and it was not my neck that was being threatened, yet I happened to be the only rational one with emotion here! The other two seemed to think this kind of scenario fit right nicely in this luxurious estate setting - as though crime is typically rampant in this part of neighbourhood when it should not be!

He pulled me to his side, his body shielded me from this helpless yet surprisingly unfazed butler. I felt sorry for the butler to have things escalated this way.

"Tell your Master that that was the last time she will ever see her daughter," he stated while retracting the blade into its shell.

I pounded my fist against his arm, shocked at what was said.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN THE LAST TIME?!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.

"Come, we have somewhere to go," his cold demeanour changed instantly with each footstep.

"No! I want to go see my mum! Something is wrong-" I pulled my weight down, dragging my feet as I walked, waiting for an opportunity to run.

His steps halted, enough to stun me. The expression he wore was hard to read but as soon as he opened his mouth, there was determination and contrition.

"Forgive me for doing this."

In one quick swoop, he carried me on his broad shoulder like I was a sack of rice.

"Heeeeeeyyyyyyy!!! What are you doing?!!!"

You see, in such a quiet neighbourhood voice travels fast. My first 'Hey' was already an open invitation for a crowd. By the second 'Hey', securities were already within the vicinity to their complaints and the complainants? They stayed in their comfortable zone, looking through their windows like the balcony box in theatres.

"Stop! Let that woman down," one security personnel demanded while another was holding a gun of some sort.

But my cries for help was ignored as soon as "my husband" turned around.

"Mr. Bainbridge...?"

"Apologies for the commotion, gentlemen. Just a little dispute with the missus. We're fine."

'Surely they would not fall for that, right? RIGHT?' I raised my head to look at the securities and noticed they had lowered their guns.

'Damn it! Who is this guy?!'

"He's LYING!!! I'M NOT HIS WIFE!!! HELP M—"

But he had already placed me in the back seat of his car, only short of closing the door.

I pulled the handle as hard as I could but it wouldn't budge! I scooted to the other side and that was locked as well!!!

'What is it with me and locked doors?' I cursed under my breath. My fingers were frantically pressing down the window button with no success. As I was about to leap to the front, he was already in the driver seat with his arm stretched out to block me.

With no time to lose, I moved back to the back and banged on the windows, screaming again and again. Before he drove off, he assured the guards that they have nothing to worry about and if they would want further assurance, they only have to knock on the house number seven for confirmation.

On the one last look I took, hoping they could see me through the tinted glass or heard my screams, I knew nothing would be done. From the way they pulled their hat down or the way they looked in the opposite direction showed how much they were willing to turn a blind eye on such an obvious kidnapping.

For the second time in my life, I felt abandoned. Terribly abandoned. I bawled my eyes out like a little child I once was, screaming for my mother to come and save me.

'What on earth is happening? Why has everything turned one-eighty right after the accident?'

Nothing seemed to be right. In fact, all that happened had been leaving me feeling worse each time. First, it was the infertility news. Then the divorce happened followed by Alistair married to his work wife, resulting his long time desire fulfilled to be a father of his own flesh and blood. The car accident was supposed to be the end!

Instead, I survived the crash and somehow married to a stranger who surprisingly carried weapon on his person. On top of it all, I could not decide if the person I am married to is the kind man who looked after me or just straight up selfish, entitled arrogant jerk who is eager to break someone else's familial relationship!

Then it struck me. Perhaps I was cursed for not saving myself then? If it is, then is this my karma?

The realisation made me fell into another episode of bawling in the back seat of the car, completely unbothered by his presence. If any, it gave me great pleasure knowing my tantrum must have at least annoy the living out of him.

The burst of fresh tears came together with the waves of negative emotion that swells in my chest. I was supposed to feel better after I cried and yet, the pain I experienced was too much to bear.

The dull thumping in my head, the sharp ringing in my ears, the coarseness that prickled my throat were nothing compared to the suffering my heart had to endure. Not even ripping my heart out would alleviate the torture.

Why?

Not only had my own biological mother forsaken me, but even death refused me.

'I am truly deserted.'