And then their hands found each other in a subtle yet profound connection.
“Aisha.” His murmur held a weight of realization, an unraveling truth echoing through his
consciousness.
“Leon, I’m Millie.” She gently withdrew her hand, a step backwards. “Is sorrow your specter, conjuring
phantoms?”
No, hallucinations did not cloud his senses.
In this ephemeral juncture, Leon’s phone resonated with an urgent melody—a call from udia.
“Got it.”
Leon concluded the call by ending it. udia had implored him to return.
Witnessing Millie‘s cautious retreat, a chasm of ache formed in his chest, a whisper of regret tracing its
contours.
The recollection surfaced of Millie kneeling before him, a memory intertwined with his forceful demand
for her to exchange Lois. cing a pen at her throat, he aimed to coerce Marcus into releasing Fiona
from his grasp.
Such a ludicrous spectacle.
While Leon fixated on Millie, agony painted across his gaze, her own unease began to burgeon.
Ang’s Library
“I shall take my leave,” Millie dered, a waiting taxi bing her escape vessel.
However, Leon refrained from intervening; he merely observed as the car departed. Once the vehicle
had faded into the distance, he proceeded to utch his car door and enter. One cigarette seeded
another, a series of bitter inhtions punctuating the farcical nature of his existence.
“Boss, are you alright?” inquired Leon’s assistant upon arrival. Noting the discarded cigarette butts
strewn across the ground, the assistant became privy to the relentless smoking, as if each puff were an
enactment of his lung’s preordained folly. Igniting yet another cigarette, the interior of the car swiftly
became veiled in a cloud of smoke.
Perplexed, the assistant grappled with uncertainty. Could Leon’s profound distress be attributed to
Fiona’s demise?
Overwhelmed by a sense of empathy, the assistant found it difficult to witness their highly esteemed
boss in a state of despondency. After pondering for a while, a decision crystallized: it was time to inform
Leon that Fiona was not, in fact, Aisha. His sorrow need not be carried to such an extreme.
ConTEent bel0ngs to N?v(e)lD/rama(.)Org .
“In actuality, I neglected to apprise you that our investigation had determined Fiona to be an incorrect
lead in your pursuit. She is not Aisha. Rather, she is an imposter who underwent stic surgery,” the
assistant revealed.
Leon’s hand, which clutched the cigarette, trembled, his emotional fragilityid bare by the quiver. “Why
have you chosen this juncture to disclose such crucial information?” he questioned, his tone a blend of
puzzlement and reproach.
“On that particr day, outside the restaurant, Millie arrived with a stack of documents, aiming to
substantiate Fiona’s negative character. In a fit of anger, you discarded those documents in a nearby
trash bin. However, I was struck by a curious notion and retrieved it. Among those documents were the
check-in records of Fiona and Giovanni. Upon examination, I determined them to be authentic.
Subsequently, I dove deeper into the matter and uncovered evidence that Fiona had undergone facial
stic surgery. Her appearance had changed significantly from before, Leading me to conclude that
she couldn’t possibly be the person you’ve been seeking. I believe this might be an opportune moment
for you to break free from your past. Fiona’s true nature is far from virtuous, and I am confident that
upon recognizing this, any attachment to the fake Aisha would inevitably give way to disappointment.
Thus, this could serve as a catalyst for you to finally let go of your pursuit of Aisha.”
Leon exerted pressure on the smoldering cigarette against his palm. Witnessing this, the assistant was
consumed by fear and instinctively dropped to their knees.
“Boss, I’m at fault. If you need to take it out on someone, let it be me. Please, don’t harm yourself.
Regardless of the punishment you deem fit, I’UL willingly ept it.”
“You truly are an exceptional assistant,” Leon remarked, his gaze fixed on the seared mark on his
palm, apanied by a bitter smile.