Elijah Schwarzenger Rises To Power

0018

Benjamin Warren sprawled shirtless on the king-sized bed, channels flickering on the TV as Ruthila Kerr nestled beside him, cocooned in luxurious silk sheets. Just as she began to drift off to sleep, the screen jolted to life with a breaking news banner that froze their attention.

“Wait… hold on,” Ruthila murmured, blinking her eyes open.

Benjamin pressed the remote to pause, both of them captivated as the headline blared:

**‘ALLEGED FRAUD AT SAN DICEVEY TECH MALL—MYSTERY MAN IDENTIFIED’**

The footage rolled, shaky and chaotic, revealing Elijah standing nonchalantly amidst the pandemonium of a tech store, surrounded by flustered attendants and curious customers.

Ruthila shot upright, her heart racing. “Isn’t that... him? Am I really seeing this right?"

Benjamin squinted at the screen, masking his concern with feigned ignorance. “Who is that?”

“That’s Elijah!” she exclaimed, her voice a mix of disbelief and shock. “I thought he was supposed to be locked up. You told the guards to make sure he stayed behind bars, right?”

Benjamin’s heart dropped. He leaned in, searching her face for reassurance. “You’re sure that’s him? Because he should be in prison, not roaming free like this at all.”

“Of course, I’m sure! Look at him! How in the world is he out?” Ruthila's voice rose, incredulity spilling from her lips.

Benjamin's jaw tightened slightly as a flicker of tension slithered through the air. “Whoa, it really is him... Damn. Last we both saw or heard of him, his release was way way off till like after a year at minimum."

Ruthila’s brow furrowed, confusion and concern etching her features. “This can’t be right. He wouldn’t just escape prison to become a phone scammer. I refuse to believe it. That’s not who he is,” she protested, her voice steady but laced with doubt.

Benjamin’s eyes darkened and his patience frayed.  “What do you even mean, ‘that’s not who he is’? Are you defending him now?”

“It’s not like that,” she shot back, her tone a defensive blend of anger and frustration.

He scoffed, tossing the remote aside as he turned to face her. “Then what exactly do you mean, Ruthila? It sounds an awful lot like you still have feelings for him. You still love him, don’t you? Am I just... what? A stepping stone for you?”

His words sliced through the tranquillity of the evening, sharp and filled with the jealousy he struggled to control. Silence enveloped the room, amplifying the tension.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ruthila fired back, annoyance rising within her. “I don’t love him. I love you. You’re the only one who matters to me! Can’t I be surprised without being accused?”

Benjamin opened his mouth to retort, but she pressed on, each word dripping with emotion. “You’re the one I want. Elijah is a ghost from my past; he hasn’t been part of my life for weeks.”

He clenched his fists tightly against the mattress, inhaling deeply to regain control. “Fine. Let’s keep it that way,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “Let’s drop him from our conversations, our memories and everything. Elijah no longer exists for either of us!”

Ruthila hesitated, uncertainty flickering behind her eyes. “But…”

He silenced her with a finger pressed gently to her lips. “No,” he whispered urgently, eyes narrowing. “Just… shhh.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, only punctuated by the soft hum of the AC mingling with distant city sounds outside their penthouse balcony. With a decisive flick of his wrist, he turned off the TV, casting the room into a comforting darkness. He rolled onto his side, facing away from her, pulling the duvet over himself as he let out a heavy breath.

Relief washed over him, a wave that almost knocked the wind out of him. He had just dodged a bullet; if their conversation had continued deeper, he might have revealed too much. How he never planned to buy that Toyota, or how Elijah had once hijacked the Rolls-Royce right after they met at the showroom—details he had kept from Ruthila in order to protect their looming marriage.

“Too close,” he thought as a grin spread across his lips, his eyes fluttering shut as sleep began to claim him.

Meanwhile, across the bed, Ruthila remained propped up, her back against the pillows, fingers tracing the silk sheets absentmindedly. Silence wrapped around her like a shroud, but her thoughts ran wild and unchecked.

Memories of Elijah came rushing back, vivid and all-consuming. She recalled him cleaning the toilet floor while still managing to sneak her lunch on the sets of her modeling gigs. The way he’d hold her hand when nerves threatened to overwhelm her before auditions, his warm encouragement pushing her to follow her dreams. He affectionately called her “my little firework,” even when she faced rejection.

He may not have had wealth, but he offered her something far more valuable—his unwavering support and love. A pang of guilt twisted in her chest, and she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood.

Had she made the wrong choice?

Maybe she actually did make the wrong choice by ditching him for someone who could connect her to more roles and gigs.

Was she so blinded by the allure of fame that she had turned her back on someone who truly cared for her?

She glanced over at Benjamin, his broad back anchored in slumber, and the guilt deepened, clawing at her with a sharp, icy grip.

With a deep breath, she shifted closer, brushing her fingers against the stubble on his arm. “Goodnight,” she whispered softly, but he remained silent, pretending to sleep. She rubbed his arm gently, hoping to soothe her own turmoil more than his.

But thoughts of Elijah continued to swirl in her mind, and the gnawing doubt about her choices lingered, casting shadows that threatened not to leave her senses.