Han Monica, dressed in a simple yet elegant evening gown, arrived at Visaknu's luxury condominium. As she approached the door, it swung open, revealing Visak standing there, momentarily stunned by her beauty.
The soft glow from the lights highlighted her striking features, and her makeup was perfectly done—glamorous yet understated.
"Hi," she said.
"Hi! Welcome my darling!
Visak, unable to hide his admiration, stepped forward and pulled her into a gentle hug, his lips brushing against her hair. He couldn't resist the urge to kiss her head, his hands sliding around her waist as he drew her closer.
"You're stunning," he murmured, his voice low and filled with desire as he helped her take a seat.
"Thank you!"
With a smooth motion, he guided her toward the dinner table, which was set up for a romantic evening, the candlelight casting a warm, intimate glow over the scene.
Monica smiled as she placed her purse aside and gracefully took a seat on the sofa.
"Do you mind if I sit here for a bit? I'm not hungry yet," she said, her gaze flickering toward the dining table nearby.
"For sure!" Visak replied as he sat beside her, closing the distance between them, his presence warm and inviting.
She glanced over at the dinner table, taking in the elaborate setup. The soft flicker of the candles added an intimate touch to the scene.
She chuckled softly, her eyes glinting with amusement.
"You prepared all this?" she asked, her voice playful yet touched with surprise.
Visak raised an eyebrow, a faint smile on his lips. "Yes, why do you laugh?" he replied, clearly amused by her reaction.
Monica's smile lingered, her eyes softening as she met Visak's gaze. She leaned back into the sofa, her posture relaxed, but her curiosity piqued by his question.
"Nothing," she replied with a playful shrug, her voice light. "I just feel...."
Visak, sensing the playful tension, moved in a little closer, his arm slipping around her shoulder as he leaned in toward her, his breath warm against her cheek.
"Feel what?" he asked, his voice now husky, teasing.
"I tried to be romantic, honey," he continued, his smile widening as he looked down at her lips for a moment before meeting her eyes again.
"Just the two of us," he murmured, his words a soft invitation, a promise of the evening ahead.
Monic remained quiet for a moment, her heart beating a little faster, feeling the warmth of his touch. She looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity in his gaze. Visak's words, gentle but insistent, seemed to ease the tension that had been lingering in her.
"Don't hold back," he whispered, his voice soft yet confident.
"Relax, put all the pressure aside. Just be with me."
His hand reached up, gently brushing her hair from her forehead, the touch tender and intimate. He then cuddled her hand in his, his fingers intertwining with hers as he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just above hers.
Monica's breath caught in her throat, the space between them now charged with a magnetic pull. She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his presence, and allowed herself to melt into the moment.
When his lips finally brushed against hers, it was slow, soft, as if savoring every second.
—
Visak retreated slightly, his fingers gently grazing her lips as he looked at her with a mixture of longing and frustration. His voice softer, carried a hint of desperation.
"How long do I have to wait?" his tone was almost pleading.
Monica, her gaze steady, took a deep breath, her mind caught between her desire and the reality of her circumstances.
"Dad was so hard on this…" she murmured, her voice tinged with the weight of her family's expectations.
Visak's face twisted with frustration, his hands trembling slightly as he ran them through his hair.
"I'm going crazy," he admitted, his words raw with emotion.
"I am afraid of losing you, but I'm also afraid your dad will catch me, and that will be the end for both of us."
She chuckled softly, shaking her head as his over dramatic tone
"Don't worry," she said with a playful smile, trying to lighten the mood.
"Be patient!"
He leaned on, searching her eyes for any sign of doubt, but all he saw was a calm certainty in her expression.
"I am patient, but every moment without you feels like a lifetime," he confessed, his voice almost a whisper.
—
Visak moved slightly on the sofa to pour wine into two glasses, handing one to Monica. "Thank you," she said.
"I'll be on a mission abroad with Dad next week for five days," he mentioned.
"Oh, okay," she replied.
"What would you like this time?" Visak inquired.
Monica paused, unsure. "Umm..."
"Marina told me she wants the biggest chocolate set," the man added.
"You met her? Where?" Monica asked, surprised.
"What do you mean?" Visak responded.
"She moved to my mom's house now," Monica explained.
"Oh, really?" he said, intrigued.
"She's mad at me, dad, everyone in the house," she continued.
Visak chuckled. "She must. A girl like her needs a freestyle life..."
"She refuses to meet me. I don't know what's going on... my attitude or arrogance?" Monica pondered.
Visak leaned back, hesitating before speaking. "Pretentious."
Monica was stunned, nearly spilling her wine. "For real?"
"50/50," he set his glass down and faced Monica, who seemed to not understand yet.
"Can you be honest with me, Monic?"
"Am I looking like a liar to you?" Monica asked.
"I don't think 'pretentious' is really the right word to describe you, but I need you to be true to me." Visak's gaze shifted away.
The man chuckled but remained firm. "You said you are tired and want to stop..."
"Is that pretending?" Monica asked.
"No, no..." he replied.
"Sometimes, let the ship sink. Trying alone is hard, darling..." Visak added.
Monica took a deep breath. "You don't need to act strong all the time. It's okay in front of your stepmother, but why not with me and your own mother? I don't want you to handle everything alone."
"Then that's who I am—the way I am, as always," Monica said firmly.
Visak nodded, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "Alright, I take back my words. I love you just as you are."
He reached for his glass, took a sip, and smiled warmly at her.
Then he looked at her tenderly, his gaze filled with warmth. He kissed her fingers softly and ran his hand through her hair, his touch gentle and affectionate, a silent testament to his love.
***
Visak dropped Monica off at her place around 11p.m.
"I'm heading in. Drive safe," she said with a smile.
"Yes. Love you," he replied softly.
"Love you!" she echoed, turning to head inside.
Visak watched her disappear through the door before driving away into the night.
Unbeknownst to them, a figure on a motorcycle trailed them at a distance. Dressed in black slacks and blending into the shadows, the rider moved silently, their presence masked by the hum of the city night.
—
As Monica lay on her bed, her phone buzzed softly, the screen glowing with a new notification. It was a text from an unknown number.
"I saw you meet Saroath the day she died."
Her heart skipped a beat as she stared at the message, a chill creeping down her spine.
She froze, her breath hitching as the weight of the message sank in. For a moment, silence filled the room—then another notification lit up her screen.
Monica clenched her fists, forcing herself to stay firm. Her lifeless eyes fixed on the phone, unblinking, as an eerie sense of dread settled over her.
Yet, the new notification was from her sister, a message on Telegram:
"Call me!" Marina sent.
Monica hurriedly dialed her sister's number, her fingers trembling.
"Mari…" she breathed anxiously as the call connected.
Marina was in her bedroom, her iPad resting among her belongings. Her voice came through immediately.
"Sister!"
"Mari, my little!" Monica exclaimed, her voice breaking with relief and urgency.
"Monica!"
"Yes, dear!"
"I need to talk to you!"
"Okay, but what about? And when do you want to talk?"
"I want to talk right now."
"Via phone?"
"Yes!"
"Why? Why is it urgent? Can't it wait until tomorrow or whenever you're free?"
"No!"
Older sister, exhausted and drained, mustered all her energy to continue the conversation.
"...So, you don't want to see me?"
"Not until you tell me the truth!"
Monica steadied herself, trying to maintain her composure. "The truth? About what?"
"Don't play dumb—you know exactly what I mean!" Marina's tone was sharp and unwavering.
"I don't quite understand your point. Please, just say it plainly."
"You met her—Dara's mother. You went to her hometown that day after we left the restaurant, and now she's gone."
Monica's eyes darkened, her face turning pale as silence enveloped her. Marina pressed on.
"And you and Dad... you kept her belongings hidden in secret."
"Marina!" Monica's voice rose, but it was shaky, her control slipping.
"Don't call my name!" Marina snapped. "And don't talk to me unless you're ready to tell the truth."