"Why do I feel like there's something you're not telling me?" Ben asked, his voice calm but laced with concern, his eyes searching hers as he tried to read her expression. He was lost, unsure how to act, torn between wanting answers and fearing what they might reveal.
Ella stayed silent. Not because she wanted to, but because she didn't want Ben to feel disturbed again. He had already endured so much from his family. And now, as things were beginning to fall into place, she couldn't bring herself to ruin it.
"Talk to me…!!!" Ben raised his voice, a rare crack of urgency threading through his otherwise steady tone.
"I… I… I will talk," she stammered, her pen trembling in hand as she attempted to write down the words she couldn't say aloud.
"I have been receiving letters, emails, and have been followed a couple of times, but I refused to tell you," she wrote, her hands shaking. "I saw it as something I could handle…" She carefully avoided revealing the contents of the letters and emails, guarding both herself and him.
"Now see where we are," Ben muttered under his breath, his jaw tight as he walked away, the air heavy with unspoken tension.
"I'll be back soon," he added, his voice softer this time, though the weight of worry lingered in the room.
Ella's body ached from the severity of the accident. She could barely walk, confined to the hospital bed, and every movement reminded her of how fragile life could be.
Days passed slowly as Ella healed, her strength gradually returning. The doctors deemed her ready for discharge, and the thought of going home brought both relief and apprehension.
Ben went ahead to settle the hospital bills. As he handed over the payment, a nurse quietly mentioned something that caught his attention.
"Someone has been coming here frequently," she said. "They don't know anyone here, yet I noticed they monitor Miss Ella closely."
"Thank you," Ben replied with a tight nod, his mind already spinning with possibilities. He left the hospital, determined to find this mysterious person before anyone else could act.
Over several days of observation, he spotted a man in black; a hoodie drawn over his head, concealing his entire face. Ben resisted rushing in, determined to confirm the man's intent. Repeated sightings strengthened his suspicion that this man had a message, a warning, or perhaps a threat to deliver.
Ben bided his time, keeping his composure while planning his approach carefully. When the moment came, he struck swiftly.
"What are you doing on my property?" Ben demanded, his anger boiling over as he hit the man's head with full force. The man crumpled unconscious.
Without hesitation, Ben dragged him into his secret room and tied him securely to a chair, his eyes blazing with controlled fury. He waited, tense and silent, until the man groaned and blinked, slowly regaining consciousness.
"Now, tell me. Who sent you?" Ben asked, his voice low, sharp, and unyielding.
The man remained silent, stubborn and terrified. Ben's patience snapped. Pain, fear, and force combined until finally, the man gasped out the words:
"Rita… Rita was the one who sent me," he admitted, panting, his face pale, eyes wide with panic.
"She warned me never to speak or my family would be in danger," he added, voice trembling as he realized he had no way out.
Ben remained silent, his anger a storm raging behind the calm exterior.
After extracting all the information he needed, he decided to release the man.
"I won't let her know you spoke," Ben warned quietly as the man bolted from the room, a mixture of relief and fear in his steps.
Ben sat alone for hours afterward, mind racing with possibilities, weighing his next move. He didn't want to follow the path of vengeance, but the temptation burned within him.
"Should I report her to the authorities?" he muttered to himself, pacing the room, fists clenching.
"Naaa… she might turn it against me. She has everything she could use to bring me down," he added, his thoughts tangled, frustration and caution battling within him.
The night deepened around him, heavy with uncertainty, while Ben sat in silence, plotting, calculating, and waiting for the right moment to act.