Bonds

-Maya's POV-

My head spun as I stumbled out of Alex's office. The unexpected kiss hung heavy in the air, a phantom touch that sent shivers down my spine despite the anger that still burned within me.

How could he have done that? After everything, after his callous disregard for my pain, he dared to kiss me? The audacity of it all fueled a fresh wave of fury. Yet, beneath the anger, a traitorous warmth lingered, a flicker of something I couldn't quite define.

You had kissed him back, a tiny voice filtered through my thoughts. I immediately shut it down refusing to let it play in my head.

The kiss itself had been a brutal collision, devoid of the tenderness that had once infused our touches. But there was an undeniable spark there, a raw energy that both repelled and attracted me. It was confusing, maddening, and utterly inappropriate.

Lost in the tangled mess of my emotions, I barely registered the bustling office around me as I made my way back to my desk. The kiss replayed in my mind. I could still feel it. His taste. His touch. I could feel him everywhere and I knew it wasn't going away anytime soon.

No one kissed like Alex. No one made me burn like Alex.

Slipping into my chair, I tried to focus on the work in front of me, the design plans blurring into an incomprehensible mess. The image of Alex's face, etched with a mixture of anger and something else-something more intense than lust kept flashing before me.

I slammed the folder shut, the sound echoing in the sudden silence. This was ridiculous. I couldn't allow myself to be distracted by him, not anymore. My father was still in jail, my life was in shambles, and Alex... Alex was simply another complication I didn't need.

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to focus on the task at hand. Ignoring the insistent tug of emotions, I opened the laptop and started typing, determined to drown out the confusion and the lingering taste of betrayal with the cold logic of work.

The insistent tap-tap-tap of Sarah's manicured nails on my desk jolted me back to reality. My head throbbed, a dull ache radiating from the remnants of anger and confusion swirling within me.

"Amaya, you're back," Her voice broke through the fog clouding my mind. "I've been calling you. You okay?"

I blinked, finally focusing on her concerned face, the missed call notification on myphone screen glare at me. Nothing seemed to register. The world felt muted, the sharp edges of reality dulled by the emotional rollercoaster I'd just been through.

"Look, Sarah," I began, forcing the words past the lump that had formed in my throat, "if this is about the fact that-"

"No, it's not about that," she interjected, a note of urgency lacing her voice. "You have a visitor. I mean had a visitor. That's why I was trying to reach you. He said it was pretty urgent. Something about your father. He got out."

The last sentence slammed into my brain breaking through all the fog, "What? When? How?"

"I don't know the specifics," She continued, "but he said he had to go. Apparently, he'd been calling you too."

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As if on cue, my phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a notification of fourteen missed calls. I had put my phone on silent and missed all of Ivan's calls.

"By the way," Sarah added, a hint of a playful smile gracing her lips, "I didn't know you know Ivan McCall. He is extremely hot. I have always fancied him and I have a specific thing for hot men in expensive suits."

The teasing lilt in her voice cut through my emotional paralysis, a much-needed jolt that brought a sharp retort to my lips. "We're married, Sarah," I snapped, the harshness of my tone surprising even myself. She flinched at the unexpected aggression, her smile faltering.

Shame washed over me, a bitter aftertaste in my mouth. I hadn't meant to lash out at her, not when she was simply trying to be friendly. Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to apologize.

"I'm so sorry, Sarah," I mumbled, my voice thick with remorse. "That was out of line. You didn't know, and I shouldn't have snapped at you like that."

She offered a slow, understanding nod. "It's okay, Amaya. I get it. I wouldn't have said it if I knew. You never mentioned being married. By the way he said your father was taken back home. He - your husband, I mean - mentioned if I saw you, to tell you that's where he would be."

Relief washed over me, "Thank you. I really need to get going. If Ms. Edwards comes back-"

"Don't worry about Ms. Edwards," She chimed in, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I'll handle her. Just focus on your family right now."

With a final goodbye, I practically sprinted out of the office, the urgency of the situation pushing all thoughts about Alex and the lingering kiss to the back of my mind. I hadn't gotten around to acquiring a car since returning to the city, so I hailed a taxi and relayed the address to the driver, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

The ride to my father's house felt like an eternity. Every passing streetlamp, every screech of brakes seemed amplified, a physical manifestation of the nervous energy churning within me. A million questions swarmed my mind: how had he gotten out? And most importantly, was he alright?

The taxi finally pulled to a stop in front of the familiar house. The air itself seemed charged with a tense silence as I paid the fare and hurried towards the porch. Hesitantly, I pushed open the door, bracing myself for the unknown.

I The house had been fixed up since the day of my arrest. It looked how it had always been in the tears I spent growing up in it. Everything placed to perfection.

Suddenly, a voice startled me. "Amaya. Where did you keep your phone? I've been calling you." Ivan emerged from the hallway, his face a mask of worry.

"I'm sorry," I stammered, momentarily flustered. "I had a meeting and had to silence it."

You had a meeting with Alex. You're leaving that part out. The voice in my head nagged again but I pushed it back still.

"I really am sorry," I repeated, my voice softer now. "Where is he?"

"He's resting." Ivan replied, his gaze lingering on me for a beat too long. "Exhausted from the... ordeal."

"Is my mother with him? Can I see him?".

As if summoned by my question, my mother stepped out from the hallway, her face etched with worry. But as soon as she saw me, a flicker of relief sparked in her eyes. Without a word, she reached out and wrapped her hands around me in a tight embrace.

I froze, caught off guard by the sudden gesture. Physical affection wasn't something we readily shared. This was the second time she was hugging me now and I was still trying to wrap my head around it.© 2024 Nôv/el/Dram/a.Org.

"I am so sorry, Amaya," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. "I should have called you, but I was just so... consumed."

Logically, a part of me should have felt a pang of resentment that it was Ivan, not her, who had informed me of my father's return. But right now, bigger concerns overshadowed that.

"Can I see him?" I finally managed, pushing away the extraneous thoughts.

She nodded, her face softening. "Yes, of course," she said, gently guiding me towards the familiar hallway.

There was an unspoken understanding in her touch, a recognition of the need for family time. I almost scoffed at the sentiment. "Family time" hadn't exactly been a staple in our household, but under the current circumstances, it seemed there were unspoken rules that even Ivan understood.

We reached the familiar double doors of my father's study. Taking a deep breath, I followed my mother inside. He was seated behind his desk, his e back straight his features an unreadable mask. There was no sign of the ordeal he'd supposedly endured. No weariness, no physical toll. He looked exactly the same - powerful, imposing, and utterly intimidating.

He raised his head as we entered, his gaze locking onto mine. For a moment, we simply stared at each other. What did I feel? Relief? Confusion? Maybe a sliver of happiness at seeing my father out and well?

"Amaya," he finally spoke, his voice flat and emotionless.

As usual.

"Father," I breathed out. "You're out. I tried to come see you, but they wouldn't let me have an appointment."

"Because I told them not to," he replied simply, his voice devoid of apology. The bluntness of his statement caught me off guard.

I blinked back a surge of surprise, my mouth opening to question his motives. But before I could utter a word, he cut me off historfe hardening. "I am not interested in whatever you have to say regarding my arrest," he stated dismissively. "What I would like to know is who gave you the right to sign off as co-alpha to my pack?"