Disimpan secara otomatis
Jumlah Kata 1163
9/70
Aaron leaned back in his chair, his arms folded across his chest. His gaze was sharp, exposing every movement of the girl before him. The plate on the table was empty, only a little porridge remained, almost dry. The girl sat stiffly, her fingers interlocked in her lap, her shoulders trembling slightly as if she wasn't yet completely convinced that the threat had passed.
"What's your name? Where do you live?" Aaron asked for the umpteenth time, his voice flat but filled with a pressure that made the air in the room feel heavy.
The girl lifted her face slowly, her eyes meeting his for only a moment before lowering her head again. Her head moved slowly, shaking silently.
Aaron took a short breath, his jaw tightening. "You don't have a name?" he asked again, this time in a lower, more dangerous tone.
The girl shook her head again.
"Don't you have a place to stay?" Aaron continued, his patience wearing thin.
Once again, the head shake came. Slow, hesitant, as if every movement was a matter of life and death.
Enough!
Aaron's chair shifted roughly as he stood. His hands propped on the bed, his body leaning forward, causing the girl to reflexively shrink back. His gaze darkened, cold, without a hint of mercy.
"Answer me," he said softly but sharply, "or I'll kill you."
The threat came calmly, without emotion, which was precisely what made it sound so real.
The girl was shocked. Her body shook violently, her breath hitched. Her eyes widened, filled with fear she couldn't hide. Her lips trembled, tears welled up, then fell one by one down her cheeks.
"I-I…" his voice choked.
Aaron didn't move, didn't interrupt, just waited like a predator who knows its prey is cornered.
"My name is… Ayla Atmaja," he finally answered, his voice barely audible.
The name hung in the air. Aaron fell silent.
Something rippled through his head, an old memory suddenly reawakening from a dark corner of his mind. His brow furrowed, his gaze shifting, as if digging through buried archives of the past.
Atmaja, that name wasn't unfamiliar. In the past, years ago, that surname often appeared at elite business meetings, spoken of with both respect and wariness.
Mr. Atmaja was an influential, cunning, and deeply secretive man. He didn't know Mr. Atmaja had a daughter named Ayla Atmaja.
Aaron looked at Ayla again, more deeply this time. It wasn't just a cold, threatening stare, but a look full of suspicion. The girl's face was pale, her body thin, clearly not someone who lived a comfortable life. Too fragile to be associated with the extended family that once controlled so much.
"Are you sure about that name?" Aaron finally asked, his voice calmer, but even more piercing.
Ayla nodded quickly, as if afraid that the slightest hesitation would put her life in danger again.
"That… that's the name my mother gave me," she said quietly. "I have nothing else besides that."
Aaron narrowed his eyes. Many questions began to swirl in his head. If this girl truly was an Atmaja, then her presence was no coincidence. And if she was lying… then her courage was extraordinary, or her stupidity was fatal.
Aaron sat back down slowly, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm on the table. For the first time since the girl entered his life, Aaron felt something greater than pity or anger.
"Ayla Atmaja…" he murmured softly.
The name, somehow, sounded like the beginning of a problem far more complicated than he had expected.
"Can you tell me what happened to you?" Aaron asked.
Ayla fell silent, considering the situation before recounting everything that had befallen her. She finally shook her head, refusing to tell him what had happened. She didn't know Aaron, and she trusted no one but herself.
Aaron took a deep breath, choosing to remain silent and not question the girl any further.
"Get some rest, I have to go to the office," Aaron said.
"Remember, stay here, don't try to escape," he warned Ayla.
Ayla nodded slowly in response.
After that, Aaron left, leaving the girl alone in the treatment room.
*******
In a luxurious house standing majestically in the middle of an elite area, the atmosphere had become tense since early morning. The crystal chandeliers, which usually radiated luxury, now felt cold, reflecting the tense faces of the residents and staff as they hurried past. Ayla's name echoed throughout the house, repeated over and over in a tone of panic and unconcealed anger.
Danar Atmaja stood in the middle of the main room, his expensive suit still immaculate, but the veins in his temples were tense. His hands were clenched tightly, his jaw clenched to hold back his boiling emotions. He had just realized something he never imagined: Ayla would escape. The girl he had been under his watch, the girl he thought lacked the courage to fight back, had simply vanished.
"Look everywhere for her!" he shouted, his voice echoing through the long corridor of the house. "Don't forget the hospital too. Every corner of the city, every place she might have gone, I want to know everything!"
"Yes, sir!" one of his men replied hurriedly, immediately running out to carry out the order.
Danar rubbed his face roughly. His breath quickened, his mind racing with various possibilities. Ayla couldn't have gotten far without help. Or… could someone have helped her? The thought made his chest tighten even more.
His pride as a man who was always in control felt like it was being trampled on.
"You idiots," he scolded angrily, his eyes sweeping over the guards, who were cowering in fear. "You can't even guard one woman! What's the point of your high salaries if you end up like this?"
No one dared to answer. The atmosphere grew quiet, only the ticking of the clock on the wall could be heard, as if counting the time that was passing, the time that would give Ayla a chance to escape him.
Danar paced back and forth, his shoes clicking loudly on the marble floor. In his heart, anger mixed with anxiety he refused to acknowledge. Ayla was no ordinary woman. Her disappearance wasn't just a loss of control, but also a threat to the secrets and plans he had carefully constructed.
"Find her," he said, quieter but with more emphasis, like an unspoken threat. "At any cost."
Outside the mansion, car engines roared, and his men scattered through the city.
Meanwhile, inside, Danar stood alone, his gaze blank but determined. He swore to himself that Ayla's escape wouldn't end so easily.
"If you had killed her a long time ago, it wouldn't have turned out this way. I'm afraid she'll reveal our family's secrets to the public," said Fara, Danar Atmaja's second wife.