THE DISCARDED TRILLIONAIRE AND DAUGHTER

Rose, taken after the storm.

10p.m.

The rain was still relentless. Amos stood on Bobo flex pavement, the droplets drifting on him like whips. But nothing hurts now.

Poor Rose.

She nestled on his father's shoulder, his skin pale and stiff as a ghost, shivering feverishly in the harsh cold.

The cruel realization that Lisa was the one behind their evacuation shows just how deep her hatred for them had deepened.

Even if she detested him, having seen him as a worthless husband who doesn't deserve her, what about Rose? What was the innocent girl's offense? Wasn't she the same kid she harboured in her belly for nine months?

She was her kin, her blood.

Blood is thicker than water they say, but Lisa had pooled the bank with venom, turning blood into poison. adulterated. Toxic. Rose is nothing to her but a cruel regret.

She'd spilled the words without any ounce of hesitation or guilt.

Lisa had flashed her clout— to tell Amos— 'you're nothing without me.' Maybe Amos was going to swallow his shame and come crawling back to her like some insect, but she was very wrong. Because the...this night is pregnant with something powerful that'll reborn the husband she tagged a nonsense.

Amos was never convenient on anyone. He wasn't a failure like the loud mouth Madam Janet had painted him to be. He was a good man to his daughter and ungrateful wife... ex-wife.

He had been the one handling all the responsibilities even though he was barely scraping by on the small shoot gigs and mini projects.

But Lisa made all his efforts looks like peanut. Like he was never doing anything.

She ripped the bridge while he was at the edge to see him fall, but she's just was too blind to see the ground beneath her feet cracking.

Thunder tore through the sky, streaking lightning.

With Rose on his shoulder, he pushed through through storm. He pushed the scuffed gate opened and stepped into the quiet street.

The question that lingered— where is he going to go?

Amos stood long in the rain, drenched, shielding Rose with a leather as he pondered on where to go. Deciding to go stay with a friend who lives some kilometres down the street, he moved.

A thought hit Amos in the heart as he moved down the quiet shimmering street. A sense of fear and helplessness coiled his heart;

It was about this time of the night a popular beggar got murdered cold in this area.

The same street where a woman returning from a late business trip got robbed of all her stuff and shot in the leg. It isn't safe around here at a time like this.

Rose was his concern. He'll hell blame himself if anything were to happen to....

The thought hasn't connected when a sound tore through the weeping night.

PAAARRR!

Amos' heart skipped. Instinct kicked in. His head spun back left and right. Before he could make a move, a bike he hadn't noticed all along screeched to a stop in his front, splashing water mid-air.

Flawlessly, a man sitting behind the masked biker jumped down. Black leather jackets that defected the rain drops, masked up, and black boot that pounded puddles. He pulled out a gun, training it on Amos.

"Hand over the girl," He croaked against the storm. "Now."

Amos' heart skipped in fear, his grip tightening on Rose.

"No.. she's not going anywhere with you," His said, his voice trembling slightly but firm. "She's my daughter."

"Get the girl, Amico!" The impatient biker barked, revving the bike in readiness.

Without another word, the gun man drove a bullet into Amos' leg.

PAAR!

"Ahh." Amos doubled over as a hot bullet lodged in his leg.

His grip loosened slightly, and the gun man grabbed the opportunity to snatch Rose from his hold. But Amos wasn't ready to give up. He swallowed his pain, strengthening his grip on Rose. With his second hand, he drove a hard punch to the man's face, sending him stumbling back three feet backward.

"Fuck," The other man on the bike sneered. "Get the fucking girl you c*unt"

"Bloody bastard" The gun man shrieked, straightening up with dangerous resolve.

He delivered another bullet to Amos' leg. Amos shirked, his knee buckling. Before he could recover from the shot, the gun butt cracked against his temple, sending him crumbling to the wet floor unconsciously.

Rose slipped from his, bruising her tender skin against the tarred road.

"Dad. Dad." She cried weakly, tears spilling from her eyes, mixing with water as she watched her father slumped to the wet floor.

The gun man whisked her to his shoulder and jumped on the bike, peeling out of the street.