Betrayed heart

Staring at my father's tombstone, a wave of emotions washed over me. Tears flowed down my cheeks like a running faucet. I didn't even try to wipe them away; maybe I needed to let them flow to accept the reality that my dad wouldn't come back to me.I cried uncontrollably, just like a little child who lost their favorite candy. When I finally felt like speaking, I took out my fine linen handkerchief to dry my tears.Squatting down, I touched the tombstone, reminiscing about how empty I had felt in the two years since my dad had left me. It was as if life was a desert without water.The place had been utterly silent, and then I heard a sound that sent a shiver of fear through me, fearing that perhaps a deceased soul had stirred. My gaze darted around anxiously until I saw birds taking flight. It dawned on me that the silence had been shattered by the cheerful chirping of birds, completely indifferent to my worries.Even though it was the afternoon, the chill of winter was in the air.Re

I stood there, utterly bewildered.“What do you mean, murder of Williams? She woke up yesterday, So tell me how someone like that could have killed someone three days ago ” Rose vehemently argued with the detectives.“Three days ago, were you with her the entire time? If you are not, then I would advise you not to say anything else,” one of the detectives sternly warned.Initially, Rose managed to convey that she was with me until they inquired about the period I left her house, but she didn't follow me. Strangely, I wasn't shaken by the accusations. Instead, I grappled with the incomprehensible reality of Williams' death. Who could have taken away my Williams?Sure, he may have caused me pain, but he was still the love of my life—the only man I've ever loved. Speech eluded me. Williams is gone. I couldn't wrap my mind around it. Why didn't I hear about his death in the hospital? Oh, Rose! She shielded me from the news since yesterday. Rose must have known. No wonder she's been acting

Helen's POV As I sat amidst the shareholders, my hands betrayed my composure with nervous sweat, and my heart pounded as I awaited their response to my proposal for the presidency. Murmurs filled the air yet I remained composed. “How could you propose this? We gave you an ultimatum to find investors or sell the company. And here you are, vying for the president's position,” Mr. Steve, one of the biggest shareholders, questioned with an accusing tone. “It's true I was given an ultimatum, and I'm still working on convincing the investors. You guys should give me time” “Time? Time is not on our side, Ms. Helen. The company is no longer what it used to be. If you had signed when you were told to, five years ago, for the company to be sold, then all these problems wouldn't have surfaced. We need funds, and we need them ASAP. If you can't provide it, then you have no choice but to sign for the company to be sold," Mrs Johnson declared, her words hanging heavily in the air. “I'm very su

As I hailed a cab and headed home, the evening's events replayed in my mind. Arriving home, I took a long, hot bath, attempting to wash away the lingering feelings of anger and frustration. Climbing into bed, I checked my phone, half expecting to find a message from Richard asking if I had arrived safely. But there was nothing. Then I remembered we hadn't exchanged numbers. He really is something, I thought bitterly, before exhaustion finally claimed me and I drifted off to sleep, feeling both hurt and angry The next morning, I woke up feeling refreshed, the events of the previous night fading into the background as I checked my phone. To my surprise, there was a message from Richard. How did he get my contact? I wondered briefly before eagerly opening the message, hoping he had reached out to ask how I got home yesterday. But instead, I read, 'Party at 8pm today. Don't be late.’ I rolled my eyes at his presumptuousness and went to start my day. Arriving at my father's company, I de