Denied by Destiny

Author's Pov:

"That's a rare one you've got there, my child." The familiar, gentle voice of Father Marcus reached the timid ears of the young girl, whose strawberry blondes were dancing in the soft breeze that sneaked through the garden's tall hedges, making the girl look like she had a crown of flowers herself. A enchanting pair of midnight blues peeked from under the brim of her straw hat, sparkling with curiosity as she turned to face the priest, the same way a doe would look at a friendly hiker in the woods.

"Father, how do you always know what I'm looking for?" Holding the delicate orchid in her tiny hands like it was made of spun glass, Ezelea couldn't help but admire the way the light played with its petals, painting a symphony of purple and white. "It's not hard to guess when you've got a heart that speaks through your eyes, child." Patting the tiny girl's head, the priest chuckled softly, looking at the innocence that was deep rooted in her soul. From the time she was a little kid, he had seen her blossom into this kind-hearted young lady of grace and beauty that could easily be mistaken for an angel that had lost her way to heaven, always eager to bring a smile to those around her especially her aunt whom she adored beyond words.

"But remember, beauty is not just in the petals of a flower," his soothing gaze drifting to the horizon where the sun was slowly setting, casting a warm glow on the ancient church's stained-glass windows. "It's also in the hearts of those around you. And in this world, you must be careful where you place your trust."

Ezelea was an angel in the truest sense of the word. Her heart was as pure as the snow that rarely kissed the ground of their Mediterranean city, and just a thought of her brought a warm smile to the face of anyone who knew her. But Father Marcus knew that the world outside the church walls was not as gentle, especially for a delicate flower like her, who was blooming under the shadow where thorns grew more than the flowers just to protect their own. He had seen it all—the good, the bad, and the ugly of that mansion and he had a feeling that the storm clouds of fate were gathering around her without her even knowing it, which would ruin the very essence of her purity and innocence.

Tucking the orchid safely into her basket, Ezelea nodded solemnly at Father's words, which were something she had heard countless times before but never truly understood the depth of their meaning. She's been coming to this church ever since she was a little girl, finding a sense of peace and belonging that she often felt lacking at the mansion despite all the material comforts it provided. She had particularly no reason to pray or ask for anything when she had everything a person could ever wish for, an orphaned girl could ask for but there's always a single prayer that always slipped through her lips silently—well being of a special person who's been away from her for too long.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the distant sound of a clock tower chiming and echoing through the garden like a melancholic lullaby, signalling that it was time to return to the mansion. She thanked father for his wise words and began to walk home, her feet tracing the familiar path she had walked a hundred times before. As soon as she reached the mansion, she didn't waste any time and went straight to her aunt's quaint little greenhouse, where she knew her aunt would be spending her afternoon among her beloved plants.

"Good evening, Aunt," Ezelea greeted as soon as she entered the warm embrace of the greenhouse, the sweet scent of blossoming flowers mingling with the earthy aroma of fresh soil. Cristina, who was busy with her gardening, looked up with a beaming smile as soon as she heard that honeyed voice of her beloved child. "This is for you." As soon as Cristina saw the orchid, a spark of delight glinted in her eyes like a child who had just been handed a rare toy, but soon her eyes searched Ezelea's face, looking for something more than just a flower. "Did you go to church again?" she asked, knowing the answer already; it was almost a daily ritual for Ezelea to visit the place after her college was done. The girl just nodded while looking around the greenhouse, scanning the variety of exotic plants that were a testament to her aunt's love for botany.

Cristina took the orchid gently from her basket before taking the girl by her hand and leading her to a small wooden bench amidst the lush greenery. She sat down, patting the seat next to her, which Ezelea took without question. "Lea, I know you like going to church, but your uncle has always had his reasons for his strictness." Slowly stroking her hair with her free hand, Cristina tried to impart her own understanding of Silvestre's behavior, hoping that it would somehow ease the girl's mind. "You must remember to follow the rules he has set for us, which are for our own good."

Her uncle now restricted her more than ever; he even forbade her from visiting the church alone and had made it clear that she wasn't allowed to go anywhere without his consent or without his security following her. His strictness had always been a puzzle to her, a stark contrast to her aunt's gentle nature. He's a man who was hard to read like a book in a foreign language; for him, rules were the very essence of existence, and everyone in the mansion was expected to adhere to them without question, which many times made her feel suffocated like a bird in a golden cage, yet she had learned to live with it, pushing the whispers of doubt to the far corners of her mind.

"I'm sorry, Aunt. It's just that I feel closer to...to peace there." Ezelea has always been like a free bird since childhood, completely opposite to the kid Silvestre wants her to be. She was a child who loved to explore the world, to run wild in the fields, and to play in the rain without a care in the world, and it was something that always troubled her uncle but for Cristina, it was the essence of Ezelea's soul that she didn't want to cage.

Cristina squeezed her hand gently, deciding to leave the unspoken words untouched for now. She knew her husband's nature, his overprotectiveness stemming from a love that was as fierce as it was complex, and she hoped that with time, Ezelea would come to understand it too. After a small but meaningful time in the greenhouse with each other, both came out feeling a little less burdened, but as soon as they walked into the grand hall, a familiar sight of a man, dressed in a sharp suit with the aroma of sandalwood and leather, was sitting on the high-backed chair. Without looking up from his phone in which his thumbs were dancing over the screen, he spoke in a tone that was gentle as it was for his wife, "Where have you been, Cristina?"

Taking the seat next to her husband before holding the tray that had been brought by the maid, Cristina replied, "Just in the greenhouse with Ezelea, but you know how that goes; one minute is never enough in there." Finally shutting off the phone, his dark browns lifted up as he set his gaze upon his wife with a small smile that was as warm as the afternoon sun before shifting towards the girl who was still standing awkwardly near the chair of his wife with her gaze lowered to the marble floor. This thing of her, Silvestre likes the most - her respect and obedience to her elders, that was something he had ingrained in her since she was a child. "Don't you have studies to attend, Ezelea?" She almost jolted at the sudden mention of her name and nodded hastily before clutching her skirt that was as white as fresh snow reaching her ankles.

Turning his attention back to his wife, who was serving tea with elegance that was almost poetic, he spoke, "Tell the gardener to keep the greenhouse doors closed for the next few months and also take care that no flowers are brought inside the mansion." Her hand paused mid-air holding the teacup filled with amber liquid as she took a minute to process his words, just as her heart skipped a beat when he added the most important words she had been waiting to hear for years, "Our son is coming back next month."

This sudden word from Silvestre took the breath out of not only Cristina but the girl as well, who heard it before she could enter her room. Suddenly her heart was beating as fast as a rabbit's in the woods, and she was sure her chest would explode any moment. Jumping onto the bed with excitement, Ezelea threw her books aside before lying down on the velvet spread staring at the ceiling with a wide smile while remembering her uncle's words, 'Our son is coming back next month'.

Finally, after 10 long years, he's coming back, ten years since the day he left her in the dust of his fast car, leaving behind a promise that she had held onto like a lifeline in a stormy sea. Ezelea may have grown into a beautiful young lady, with the grace of a swan and the innocence of a lamb, but she was still that same little girl who had promised him with a heart full of hope and a mouth full of childish honesty, but did he still remember the promise they had made? Would he still remember her as that little girl who used to follow him around like a shadow? Would he look at her the same way he used to with those beautiful pair of russets filled with warmth and protection? A million questions bombarded her mind, making it difficult for her to even breathe properly.

Tossing to her stomach, slowly she reached back of her head to untie the ribbon that was as much a part of her as her own skin, making her strawberry blonde fall like a waterfall down her back. A soft sign escaped her plush lips as she felt the softness of the fabric that was still warm from the softness of her hair. The ribbon may have lost its color and shine over the years, but it was still the most cherished possession she had; not a single day had gone by without her tieing it around her hair, not because she liked it but because he always used to tell her that she looked like a princess with that ribbon on, like he used to call her 'my little bluebird'.

Ezelea was only seven when she was adopted into the Castellanos family, but not as a daughter but more as a responsibility that Silvestre had taken upon himself to fulfill because of the orphanage his wife Cristina used to visit, which was where she found Ezelea. She found herself as the luckiest kid on the planet when she was picked up by this billionaire couple and brought to this massive mansion that had more rooms than she could ever count, but all she craved was love and affection, which her aunt showered upon her as if she were her own flesh and blood.

Cristina raised Ezelea with so much care and love, like the most delicate flower in the garden of her heart; she molded her to be the lady that she is today, the one who has high faith in God, who knows the real essence of beauty lies within a person's soul, not on their face, and mostly who values the ethics and morals of Castellanos as much as the air she breathes. Ezelea was completely different from the girls of her age; she was more of a saint who walked the earth with a pure soul that was untouched by the darkness of the world outside the mansion.

Even though her uncle is nothing but a strict and stern man with a heart of stone for whom love or care was a foreign bird that never dared to land on his shoulders, she still has a soft corner for him, even if he doesn't show any affection to her; she knew deep down that he cared for her in his own way. He was there to hold her tiny hands whenever she stumbled, to scold her whenever she broke the rules, and to ensure she had the best of everything, even if it meant the world had to bow down to his will. For Ezelea, Silvestre's strictness was a part of her life that she had learned to live with, just like her aunt, who had taught her that love comes in many forms and not all of them were wrapped in gentle smiles and warm embraces.

Holding the ribbon close to her chest, she let out a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the years that had passed since she had seen him. She self-never noticed when her innocent promise taken out of the childish heart had grown into something much more profound, something that had started to define her but she had kept it buried under the layers of denial and doubt, hoping that it was just a phase that would pass with time, but now with his return looming near, she couldn't ignore the flutter of butterflies in her stomach or the way her heart skipped a beat at the mention of his name.

Alastair Silvestre Castellanos — his name was like a melody that she had heard in a distant dream, a memory so faint that it seemed like it belonged to someone else's life. But soon, he would be back in reality, walking the same hallowed halls that she had roamed as a child, and she would admire the young man he had become with her own eyes but from a distance, like a painting in a museum that you can't touch or claim as your own.

It may sound stupid, but this girl has dedicated her entire life to that promise without even realizing it. She had turned down countless offers from boys in school, who saw in her a treasure that they wanted to claim, but she had remained steadfast, her heart whispering that it belonged to someone else, someone who was as much a part of her past as he was a question mark in her future.

He has taken a piece of her heart that she never knew she had given away, and even after all these years it remained untouched by anyone else, frozen in time like a perfect snowflake that never melted away only to be held by him again. He always looked at her with those warm russet eyes filled with a promise of a future she didn't dare to believe in, but it was something she cherished more than her own life.

"Alas..." His name escaped her lips like the sweetest whisper of a prayer that she had kept trapped within her soul.

Alastair was fifteen when Ezelea stepped into their lives in the form of a shy, scared little girl with nothing but innocence in those beautiful midnight blues of hers. He was very silent, mostly lost in his own world when she first saw him, but with time he started to open up, and she found out an innocent soul hidden under those brooding eyes that sparkled every time he looked at her. They became very close in just two years, like two peas in a pod, always playing together, blabbering nonsense, sharing secrets, and forming a bond that was unbreakable, and that was the time she found the real Alastair, the one who just felt free with her as if she was the air he needed to breathe.

But when he turned seventeen, Alastair was sent away for further higher studies, which was Castellanos's way of saying business. What business does no one dare to know except the men of Castellanos, not even their own wives? But the night before leaving for years, he had taken an innocent promise from the little girl, who was not even in her teens yet. A promise to wait for him and to marry him when he returns. It was a promise that Ezelea had given without knowing what it truly meant, but as the years rolled by without his presence, instead of forgetting it, she let it grow in her heart like a wildflower in an untouched meadow. But what she never knew, neither anyone taught her that,

"Promises are never meant to be cherished by only one heart."

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This story is about Ezelea, who'll be caged in the unbreakable clutches of obsession and possessiveness, which know only one name: Alastair Silvestre Castellanos. A man who knows the art of playing with human emotions until they're torn into a million pieces, and still he's the one who's the masterpiece standing tall amidst the ruins of hearts he left behind. He's a psychopath who can be obsessive, crazy, manipulative, and even abusive when it comes to the things he loves to possess.

I hope you enjoy the story! If any of the previously mentioned contents make you uncomfortable, please skip it, even though I request you to give it a chance. I wish that you enjoy the story as much as I did while writing it.

The following update will be quickly; therefore, please keep hitting like and comment.

Catch you later 🦋