Forged by the opulent walls,
crafted by the scraps from the slums,
thrown to rot in this golden cage.
That was her, Maya.
"How forsaken the anguish of fate is…We met again, Brother." She chuckled coldly, swirling the wine glass.
"Maya…You?" Declan's voice was rather calm; it had always been like that...however, for the first time in his life, his voice held a hint of uncertainty.
"The world is undoubtedly round." She smiled ; her smile was like that of an unclaimed corpse… knowing there was no one... and knowing that she didn't want anyone.
Maya looked different … It wasn't her feigned smile or the old scar cutting through her left eye….it was her eyes, which were empty like a burned vessel.
Her deep set of ebony eyes …which was common for any Indian, but what set her apart from the common folks was the glimmer of contempt that seemed to paint the floor red at any moment.
"SHATTER—" A distant yet piercing sound was heard.
The precious wine glass splintered on the soft velvet rug. The rich Barolo spilled like shattered glass making it's way towards Maya's Louboutines' with stained elegance.
"WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU DOING HERE ???? YOU GOOD-FOR-NOTHING, FILTHY PEST!"