That night in Samira's small house there was no sleep. The lamps were off but the room full of silence and heavy thoughts. Samira and her mother lay side by side on the bed, but both eyes wide open. Every corner of the house reminded them of Peter Crook, the man who was husband and father, the man who worked hard in the spice shop, the man who promised dreams. Now only memories left.
Samira turned to her mother and whispered, "Mom… what we will do? How we can save this house?" Her voice cracked. Her mother just pulled her close, kissed her forehead and said, "Don't worry, child. Your dad always protect us. God will show way." But her own eyes wet with tears.
The night stretched long, filled with memories of Peter's laughter, his hands mixing spices, his words about taking Samira to the city. Sleep never came.
At Lucian's Farmhouse
Far away, in the quiet side of Los Angeles hills, Lucian Mark was not at home either. He drove to his farmhouse outside the city because tonight was his stepbrother Romex's birthday. He hated to sit in that family party, so he gave excuse of "business meeting" and escaped with his only close friend, Roy.
Inside the farmhouse, both men sat with glasses of whiskey. The air smelled of oak wood, the lights low. Roy looked tired, his face red from drink.
"Roy," Lucian said in his deep voice, "you always doing wrong things to me. Always you play like playboy. Don't spoil my name."
Roy laughed and kicked him gently. "Man, I spend money for you, not for me. I bring girls because doctor said maybe one day you find someone special who can touch you without problem."
Lucian's eyes went dark. His allergy was not a joke. Since he was twelve, if a woman touched his neck or came too close in intimacy, his skin broke, his breath cut, his anger grew. Many nights he sat alone listening to his school friends talk about girlfriends, kisses, their secret fun. He never tasted that. The pressure built inside like fire, turning him cold and angry.
Doctor gave him medicine to calm, but no cure. Only Roy tried to help, hiring women secretly. But every time, within one minute, Lucian pushed them out.
"You know I waste so much money for you," Roy teased.
Lucian smirked. "Why waste? If they leave my room, you can use them. You are playboy."
Roy slapped his arm. "Playboy yes, but still virgin. Only hug, kiss, maybe play with their boobs." He laughed. "Nothing more."
Lucian laughed too, shaking head. "Okay, I believe. But one day you will cross limit."
The two friends laughed, drank more, and ate food prepared by the farmhouse servants. Then Lucian spoke about his plan to travel to the countryside village for a project.
Roy's eyes lit. "Really? Then I come too. I want fresh air. City is only smoke and noise."
Lucian warned, "No five-star hotels there. Only small Rich Mart hotel, maybe three-star."
Roy laughed loud. "If great Lucian Mark can stay, why not me?"
They laughed again, drank until tired, then both fell asleep on couches while Lucian's phone buzzed again and again with calls from his father. He ignored them all.
The Sadist Man's Shadow
In another corner of the night, in a dark guesthouse, Sam and Lyra whispered together. Their faces close, their words heavy with secret.
Sam had a plan, a dirty plan. There was a man waiting, almost forty-five years old, rich with money but twisted in mind. Once he had a wife, but that wife divorced him. Why? Because he was cruel. Not with fists, but with control. He treated his wife like a slave, locked her, forced her to obey his every desire. If she said no, he punished with silence, with shame, sometimes with violence. He called it love, but it was torture. She left him broken but alive. Now he searched for another, not for love, but for a virgin girl to satisfy his power and lust. He promised one million dollars for that.
Sam's eyes glittered with greed. "This is chance, Lyra. Samira is innocent, pure, perfect for him. We give her, we get million. Easy."
Lyra shivered, half scared, half excited. "One million… enough for us to settle life. But why you said you give hundred thousand for Samira's mother?"
Sam laughed. "Because they love that house. I betray them, yes. But I show little mercy too. Hundred thousand is nothing compared to one million."
Lyra smiled wickedly. "You are devil, Sam. But I like this devil."
Sam and Lyra in the Night
They sat close, bottle of wine between them. The air hot with drink and secret. Sam touched her cheek, she leaned on him. His lips brushed her neck, soft at first, then deeper. Lyra closed her eyes and sighed.
Her hands ran across his chest, slowly sliding down. He pulled her onto his lap. Their mouths met, tongues tasting, heat rising. She laughed against his lips, then kissed harder. His hands explored her waist, squeezing, then moving higher. She moaned softly.
"Sam…" she whispered, pulling his shirt away. He kissed her collarbone, down to her chest, teasing, biting gently. She gasped and tangled her fingers in his hair.
Their bodies pressed, the wine forgotten. Clothes slipped, skin against skin. His hand roamed, her nails scratched his back. The room filled with whispers, laughter, and heavy breathing.
They didn't stop until the night almost gone. Both lay tangled in sheets, satisfied, smiling.
Lyra whispered in sleepy voice, "Now we have plan… tomorrow we start." Sam kissed her shoulder and closed his eyes, mind full of dark dreams.
---
Morning in Samira's House
In the village morning, Samira woke with red eyes. Her mother already boiling coffee. The sadness of last night still heavy, but they tried to smile.
Then Sam came with his fake bright face. "Good news," he said. "I spoke with financier. He will meet us in Rich Mart hotel. Big hotel, good name. Don't worry."
Her mother looked unsure. "Why hotel?"
Sam quickly said, "Aunty, he is big man, doesn't like to visit small houses. Meeting in hotel is normal. Even city people come and stay there. No problem."
Samira nodded, believing. "Yes mom, he is right. Lobby, restaurant there. Safe place."
Her mother still worried. "Then I will come too."
Sam froze, panic flashing in his eyes. He forced a smile. "No aunty, not good. He don't like many people. If we lose chance, we can't get house back. Trust me."
Samira's mother sighed, finally agreed. "Okay. But be safe."
Sam walked away grinning, the devil plan burning inside him. Samira and her mother felt some relief, but they never knew what storm was waiting in that Rich Mart hotel.
That night ended with two worlds moving closer:
Samira's side full of hope, trust, and blind belief.
Sam and Lyra's side betrayal and lust, counting dollars before they even touched.
Lucian's side laughter and secrets, but soon his path will cross Samira's.
The clock of fate kept ticking.