The way he called her made her stomach drop. He left before she could respond. At the same time, Malikha stood frozen in the middle of the bar. Her pulse wouldn't slow.
There was a strange ache in her chest. Why did that man feel like a ghost from a life she tried to forget?
Meanwhile, Aidan slammed the car door the moment he stepped outside. His breath came fast, sharp, as if the air itself couldn't cool the rage burning inside him. His fingers curled into fists, tension running through every vein. The memory and nightmares flashed in his mind. The car pulled away from the bar, but his mind stayed behind. Malikha's face lingered like a stain he couldn't scrub away each time he rested his eyes or blinked.
"Damn," he muttered hoarsely. Even when his eyes opened, he could still remember how Malikha haunted him.
"Let go of me!"
Aidan's scream tore through the darkness as his body thrashed violently against the sheets. Nights like this always came when he slept alone. It was as if invisible hands dragged him back into that suffocating void he had spent twelve years trying to escape.
Darkness surrounded him in the dream. It was thick and merciless. It pressed against his lungs until breathing felt impossible. He could almost smell the damp earth, feel the cold stone beneath his palms. Then, he jolted awake.
Aidan shot upright in bed, dragging in air like a drowning man breaking the surface. His chest heaved with sweat, soaking his shirt, which clung to his skin and dripped from his jaw onto the sheets.
For a moment, he didn't know where he was. It was not in his penthouse nor his bedroom, only in a cemetery. Slowly, he pressed both hands against his temples, forcing his breathing to steady. The pounding in his chest began to slow, though the rage remained thick and burning beneath his ribs.
He walked off the bed into the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator and drank half of it in one go. The chill slid down his throat, but it did nothing to cool the fire inside him. The refrigerator door slammed shut when his phone rang, and he picked it up directly.
"Get here," he said when the line connected. "Now."
His PA, Glenn, arrived within minutes. The sweat and tension in Aidan's shoulders, the storm brewing in his eyes, were all too familiar to him.
Glenn tightened his jaw. He knew that Aidan constantly had nightmares until he made his enemy pay, including Malikha. Aidan stood at the counter, both palms braced against the marble surface as if he were holding himself back from shattering it.
"Did you find her address?" he asked without turning around.
"Not yet, sir," Glenn replied carefully. He stepped forward and handed him a tablet. "But I found Jason Holland. I have his address. He'll know where she is."
Aidan scoffed and then turned his head to the right. "She worked at the bar. How could you not find her?" he muttered through clenched teeth. Glenn stayed silent. He knew that his boss was angry. Yet, Glenn stepped closer and then handed over a tablet in his hand.
Aidan took the tablet and stared at the screen. Jason's face stared back at him. He's being older, softer, unaware that the past had just resurfaced.
"So," Aidan murmured, scrolling. "He owns a construction company." Aidan swatted his attention.
"Yes, sir. Nearly bankrupt."
A slow smile curved across Aidan's lips. It was, above all, a perfect situation. "I want to see him tomorrow."
The next day, Jason Holland was taken from his home before dawn. He thought that they were debt collectors at first. But the moment they forced him into the car, something about their silence told him this was different. By the time they dragged him into the abandoned warehouse, his confidence had completely gone.
He was tied to a chair in the centre of the room. "I'll pay," he begged, blood on his lip. "Whatever I owe…"
Aidan stepped closer, and Jason stopped speaking. Jason furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Who was that man?
"You don't remember me," Aidan coldly said. Jason stared at him in confusion.
"No," he shook his head slowly. His brain was thinking, but it was not enough to answer.
Aidan leaned closer and gripped his jaw, forcing him to look up.
"I'm the boy you locked inside Hope Park Cemetery," he whispered. "The one you left there to die."
Jason's face drained of colour. He paled instantly as if his soul had turned off his body. Twelve years had transformed Aidan into someone Jason would never think of. The overweight boy with trembling hands was gone. In his place stood a man sharpened by hatred and discipline. He rested one polished shoe casually on the leg of the chair in front of Jason.
"That's impossible," he breathed. "You— you're dead."
Aidan's smile was slow and dangerous. "You tried to bury me," he hissed. "But I crawled out."
"I was just a kid. I didn't mean—" Jason almost burst into tears. He didn't mean to die today.
"You killed something that night," Aidan cut in coldly. "Now I'll return the favour."
He straightened. "Bring his wife."
"No, please don't!" Jason pleaded, half-shouting. He was scared that Aidan would kill his wife. Aidan didn't even flinch. A woman was dragged inside and thrown to the floor. Jason pleaded again to Aidan for his mercy.
Aidan glanced down at her, then back at Jason. "I thought you married Malikha Swan," he said, his tone deceptively calm.
Jason shook his head frantically. "We broke up after that night! I don't know where she is!"
"Lie!" Aidan yelled.
Aidan crouched in front of him. His sharp eyes pierced Jason, and he was ready to tear him apart. "Where does she live?"
"I don't know the address! I swear! She went to New York. Her mother was sick. That's all I know!"
Aidan's eyes narrowed. "What hospital?"
"Beuellvue Sacred Heart," Jason rushed out. "That's all I know. Please."
The desperation in his voice was real. Aidan grabbed him and raised his side mouth, curved a smirk. Later that night, Aidan punched all of his trained fists until his knuckles split. Each punch against the Jason carried twelve years of buried rage. Jason's scream echoed in the warehouse, but nothing stopped Aidan. The humiliation he inflicted on him over the years would be repaid, including to Malikha. She would have the same.
Glenn only watched without doing anything. Aidan stepped back, chest rising while breathing fast. He straightened his back, watching as Jason was already on the floor, dying.
"Find her." He growled. Glenn nodded and turned to get away from the warehouse. In hours, Aidan would never lose Malikha again. She would be in the palm of his hand.
"She won't hide from me," he said quietly.
His fist struck again. Another punch was struck at Jason one more time. Aidan never finished his rage. He wanted to kill Jason, but he had a better idea.
And finally, there is Aidan, in front of the hospital, Beuellvue Sacred Heart. His eyes watched the entrance. He was about to come in when he noticed someone coming from the west wing. Malikha walked to the entrance without seeing that Aidan was around. Aidan walked in the same direction; he followed her.