His Revenge

➺Chapter Fifteen

A/N: I've decided I don't want this to be some cliche romance anymore. Those just suck, man. So . . . The Lemon is going to spice things up! Time for some drama and action!

Maybe the the stress of two weddings is getting to my head . . .

➺Fifteen

Aaida woke to find herself on a bed she had never slept on before, in a room she did not remember to be present in her- Zaeem's- house. Her vision was groggy and her head pulsed lightly. With much difficulty, wincing at the pressure put on the bruises littering her body, she managed to sit up. Her hand shot out to press against her forehead, squeezing a bit to ease the pain she felt.

'Where am I? Where's Zaeem?'

She slid her legs from under the covers and stepped onto the wooden floor. Since her mind was so hazy, she couldn't find herself to panic. Instead, she silently drifted over to the door and enclosed her hand over the cold doorknob, shivering a bit at the touch. She twisted it and pulled the door open just a slit. The hallway was empty and she couldn't sense a single sign of life.

In front of her was an open window. The curtains around it fluttered by the gentle breeze. Aaida peered at it with a frown.

And then it hit her.

She was alone.

Her grip tightened around the doorknob and an eerie grasp of fear fell over her body. She hated how dark everything was- the only source of light coming from the moon beyond the tiny window. She felt so alone. As if the house had sucked the life out of her too.

"Z-Zaeem?" She hoped he would round the corner and walk right by as if he were getting ready for another day at work. "Mahra? Mama Susie?" Her whispers echoed off the walls and she was once again reminded of the fact that she was in solitude. "Zaeem?" Her voice rose an octave and she winced at how it sounded in the dead hallway. "Zaeem."

She was scared now. Frightened to the core. She had no clue where she was and she felt as if the shadows were surrounding her, whispering against the back of her neck. Her entire body stiffened and her other hand clutched the cloth of her dress.

It was the soft cotton which snapped her out of her daze.

Aaida looked down; a frown on her face to see that she was no longer wearing her party gown. Instead, she was adorning a white summer dress with elbow-length sleeves. The material was light and she had barely felt it before. Then, with a start, she also realized she wasn't wearing a scarf either. Her hair was tied up into a braid which snaked down her back. The end was done up by a white ribbon.

Her hand reached up, her fingers brushing against the skin of her cheeks. And then her eyelids.

Someone had bathed her. And washed off her makeup and dressed her and braided her hair. Someone had touched her. Had seen her body.

Her world tilted.

"Why . . . I wasn't aware you had woken up."

Her head snapped up. She took a step back. The man standing before her was a complete stranger. She didn't remember seeing him ever before. From his light brown hair, tanned skinned tone, green eyes and pursed lips- not a single bit was familiar.

Aaida ducked her head, trying to hide her face. She looked back in the room to find something to cover herself with. Her gaze fell on the white bedspread. She hastily walked over and pulled it off, wrapping it completely around her face and body.

A chilling laugh froze her movements.

"I had a feeling Zaeem had married a rather pious one," the man mused from behind her.