Chapter 7 Chapter 7

Two days had passed since Meizura stayed at Zeline’s house. During that time, her phone never stopped ringing. Like a form of terror, Fagan kept calling and sending messages.

The man acted like a criminal who constantly harassed Meizura. He called and sent threatening messages, demanding that she return home immediately. From all the messages Fagan sent, it seemed he believed Meizura was going to follow Ardiaz abroad.

[Come home, Zura! You are my wife—obey your husband!]

[COME HOME!! Or you will regret it!]

The message was sent along with a photo of a passport being burned.

[Come home now! Don’t test my patience!]

[Zura, I’m serious! You know what I can do to force you to come back!]

Dozens of threatening messages flooded Meizura’s phone, yet she didn’t reply to a single one. She focused on calming herself.

“Isn’t that man tired of calling you nonstop?” Zaskia said as she sat down beside Meizura. Since breakfast, Meizura had been sitting silently on the bedroom balcony.

“Revenge has blinded him. Forget being tired—he’s already lost his conscience,” Zaskia added.

Meizura sighed, her gaze drifting far away.

“Do you have a plan?” Zeline asked.

“Hemm…” Meizura nodded. “This time, I won’t demand anything. As long as Fagan is willing to divorce peacefully, I won’t report him to the police.”

“Are you sure Fagan will agree to a peaceful divorce? From what you told me, I’m sure that arrogant man will refuse to divorce you.”

Meizura took a long breath. “I think so too. It seems Fagan believes I’m going to meet Ardiaz.”

Zeline turned to her. “Is it possible… that he actually loves you?”

Loves me? Meizura thought, then let out a bitter chuckle. “That’s impossible,” she said, brushing away such an absurd thought.

“Fagan doesn’t want me with Ardiaz because he hates Ardiaz deeply. He doesn’t want his brother to be happy.”

Zeline nodded. “I think you’re right. He just doesn’t want you with Ardiaz. Whether he loves you or not, as long as you don’t love him, I can be at ease.”

“I don’t love him,” Meizura replied flatly.

“Good.” Zeline smiled widely.

Meizura’s lips said no—but who knew her heart? After two years of living together, was it possible that there was no love at all?

Bzzzttt!

Meizura’s phone rang again. Unlike before, this time it wasn’t Fagan.

“Sister Zamora?” Meizura murmured, quickly answering the call from her older sister's.

“Zura? Where are you?” came the voice from the other end.

“Yes, Sister. What’s wrong?”

“I should be the one asking what’s wrong,”

Zamora said anxiously. “Why did you run away? Did you fight with Fagan?” She asked in quick succession.

“How do you know I ran away?”

“Fagan is at the house right now. Come home! Explain things properly! Don’t let this reach Grandma.”

Meizura’s right hand clenched tightly. Fagan had gone to her father to pressure her. This time, Fagan had succeeded in provoking her anger.

“What happened?” Zeline asked when she saw Meizura’s expression tense.

Meizura’s face flushed red. Her eyes turned cold, filled with hatred—an anger she rarely showed.

“Tell her to come home on her own, or I’ll drag her back myself!” her father’s voice boomed through the phone.

“Did you hear that? Dad is furious,” Zamora said softly this time. “Come home and talk calmly. I believe you must have your reasons. But please come home. Don’t let Fagan meet Grandma.”

“I’ll be there in two hours,” Meizura said coldly.

The call ended.

“Are you sure you want to go back?” Zeline asked worriedly.

“I have no choice.”

“I’ll take you.”

Meizura turned to her. “When does your college break end?” she asked.

Zaskia frowned, slightly confused, but answered anyway. “Three more days.”

Meizura sighed heavily. “Just take me to the gate of the residential complex.”

“Why?” Zaskia looked even more confused.

“It won’t be easy,” Meizura said quietly.

“Okay.” Zaskia nodded, no longer asking. Meizura was stubborn, but always calculating.

Using Zeline’s car, they headed toward

Meizura’s parents’ house. Along the way, Meizura was busy with her phone, clearly sending messages.

“What are you doing?” Zeline asked, glancing at her curiously. Meizura was writing numbers inside the cuff of her shirt.

“Focus on driving! Don’t let us die foolishly because of your curiosity,” Meizura scolded, still busy with the pen in her hand.

“You’re writing phone numbers?” Zeline still stole glances.

“Hem…” Meizura hummed. “I’m preparing for the worst.”

Zeline smiled in admiration. “You really are smart and calculating,” she praised. “Don’t forget—write my number clearly!”

“Of course.”

🍂🍂🍂

Traffic was quite heavy that day. They were caught in several jams, delaying Meizura’s arrival from the expected time.

During the trip, Zamora had called three times already. She was afraid her sister wouldn’t come after all. Meanwhile, at their father’s house, chaos had erupted because Fagan was insisting on calling Meizura’s grandmother to force her to return.

“Yes, Sister's, just a moment. The traffic’s been jammed. I’ll be there in five minutes,” Meizura said before ending the call.

“Oh my God… why can’t they be patient?” Zeline muttered irritably.

“Stop here!” Meizura ordered when they reached the front gate of the residential complex.

Obediently, Zeline stopped the car.

“After I get out, leave immediately. Don’t let anyone see you. No one must know we’re still in contact,” Meizura said while putting on a scarf to cover the bruises on her neck.

Before stepping out, Meizura whispered a prayer, asking God to calm her heart.

“Zura, wait!” Zeline held her arm. “Remember—if anything happens, I must be the first person you call.”

“Of course. Thank you,”

Meizura replied with a faint smile, then calmly opened the car door.

The car drove away immediately after Meizura got out. The beautiful woman walked steadily toward her parents’ house.

Her steps stopped right in front of her family’s luxurious home. Meizura smiled at the guard.

“Miss Zura.” A uniformed security guard quickly opened the gate. “Please come in,” he said politely.

“Thank you,” Meizura replied, stepping forward. In front of the door, she paused and whispered, “A luxurious but miserable house.”

The door opened, and Meizura walked inside. Her steps were calm, as was her expression.

In the lavish living room sat four people waiting for her with tense faces: her father and stepmother, Zamora, and Fagan.

Zamora immediately stood up and approached her. “Oh my God… what happened to your face?” he asked when he saw the bruises. “Did someone—”

“Zamora, sit back down!” George, Meizura’s father, ordered sternly.

“Dad, Zura’s face is bruised. She was hit,” Zamora protested while holding Meizura’s face.

“She deserved to be hit!”

Bang…

Meizura gasped. Her body froze on the spot. Without even asking—how could someone say such a thing?

“She’s been uncontrollable since she was young! It was only right for Fagan to hit her,” George added.

One corner of Meizura’s lips lifted into a cynical smile that adorned her cold face. “You’re right, Dad. I don’t like being controlled. So don’t let anyone control me,” she said calmly.

“And this time, I want a divorce!"