Achiel had a couple of things going on in his mind. Things were beginning to go in his direction, and he couldn't feel any better. He'd watched as grandma had laid a curse on Madam. He should feel a little ounce of pity for Madam, but he couldn't bring himself to that remote emotion. If there was anyone who should suffer a terrible fate, it was that wicked woman. Achiel was prepared to do no other thing but enjoy the bliss of watching Madam crumble to dust. As much as it seemed as though he had brought her down, he knew that he was just getting started. There were still a lot of things to do. He still had a long way to go. "For now, I should let her tend to her wound for a while. And when the wound is about to be healed, I'd dig deeper into it and make a larger gore." He nodded, a gentle smile pacing his face.He was driving in a responsible speed, his grip slowly moving on the wheels. Suddenly, his mind stumbled upon something. "Oh shit, why did I forget this?" He exclaimed. He

Madam pushed the door to Hannah's room opened. She could hear her sons calling her name, but she didn't seem to care. Her face was too solemn to house a shade of concern or empathy. Hannah was lying on the bed. A doctor had come to check her immediately after they arrived from the white hall. The doctor had told them that Hannah needed to rest for a long time. As soon as her body system adjusts to the natural order of the stimulus, then she would wake up of her own accord. That was the exact reason that they had left her alone. But now, suddenly, Madam had barged into her room. Knowing fully well that the doctor had warned that a forceful waking could affect Hannah's mental state of mind. That was the exact reason why the sons were very worried. They couldn't begin to imagine what their mother might be up to. Madam didn't walk straight to her bed. Instead, she changed her route in the direction of the restroom. She headed into the restroom. "Where is she?" Harold had rushed into

Not only the words but the seriousness etched in the face of the maid got Achiel gobsmacked. Boyfriend? Who? Of course, Achiel strongly disapproved of this. But when he looked away from her to the attendants, their reactions set him on a fence. Not only would he have to argue with the maid, but the attendants too. He would have to convince them that he wasn't her boyfriend. He realised that there was no point stressing over something like that. It would be for just a matter of time. After they sorted this out, they were going to have a talk in person. "Oh, sorry, sir. We should have been more perceptive when you walked in." One of the attendants said, turning to bow softly to Achiel. Then suddenly, one of the four attendants tugged at the arm of the fellow who was taking a bow. The man was whispering something to the fellow. Achiel couldn't tell at first what the problem was until the fellow lifted his gaze. The shade of respect that was idling in the face of the fellow faded aw

Walking out of the outlet, they were met by numerous gazes plugged to them. During the yelling and noise inside the outlet, they garnered so much attention from the people inside the other outlets. People were beginning to wonder who this insignificant man causing problem was. Achiel didn't care much about the people. As long as they didn't bring out their phones to film, he was okay with any other thing. He held hands with the maid as they walked towards the elevator, which led in the direction of the office of the manager. Even though he was holding her hand, yet Achiel could feel her shuddering. If he was to let go of her, she might crumble under the pressure. He was starting to imagine what she must have gone through when she was forced by Harold to frame him! He hated to feel pity for her, yet he found himself struggling to ignore the feeling. The ten of them could not use the elevator at the same time, so the bouncers stood outside while the four attendants entered with th

Hannah was crying and pacing every corner of her room. The bed was untidy, and the pillows were thrown here and there. She would walk to sit on the bed for a while, then get up to throw another shade of tantrums. She walked straight to the door and started to bang on it. The pinkish cover of her palm had turned red from the constant pouncing on the door. There were tears flowing, pouring from her eyes as she called in a loud voice, "Mother, please let me out!" She was beginning to lose her voice. "Mother! Mother, please!!" She hit the door over and over again, but there was nothing that came. "I was wrong, Mother. Please forgive me. It has been hours, Mother. Mother, please!" She kept dealing all the cards she could lay her hands on. She did all she could to get the attention of her mother, but it seemed as though she was talking to the walls. Well, that might be true because she was the only one in the room, and her neighbours were the four wall corners and the indifferent door