Frustrated

Zinnia's heart raced as she stared at the picture on her phone. James, in his high school uniform, smiled just like he used to. Her chest tightened. It felt like he was right there, even though she knew he was gone.

"Who are you?" she typed quickly, her hands shaking. She hit send and immediately dialed the number. 

The phone rang, but then she heard only a beep. The call wouldn't go through. She tried again, but it was the same—just that cold, empty beep. 

"Damn it," she muttered, throwing her phone onto the bed. Frustration boiled inside her. Why was someone doing this? What did they want?

She looked at the phone again, her eyes drawn to the other picture. It was of her and James together, smiling as if nothing could ever come between them. The sight of their happy faces made her chest ache. She swallowed hard, trying to push down the tears. 

"Why now?" she whispered to herself. "Why can't they just leave me alone?"

Zinnia buried her face in her hands. Her thoughts were a mess. Who could be doing this? And why? It felt like she was trapped, like someone was playing with her, keeping her from moving on. Every time she tried to live her life, something dragged her back to James. 

She looked around her room, the silence pressing in on her. The only sound was the ticking of the clock on the nightstand. She wanted to scream and demand that whoever was doing this stop, but there was no one to hear her.

She grabbed her phone again, staring at it, hoping for another message—something that would give her a clue. But the screen stayed dark. 

Zinnia sighed, feeling utterly drained. She lay down on the bed, pulling the covers over her. She knew she needed to go to sleep, but her mind wouldn't stop. The images of James kept flashing in her mind, along with all the memories she had tried so hard to bury.

"Why now?" she asked the empty room again. "Why, when I'm finally trying to move on?"

She stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts spinning in circles. It wasn't fair. She had done everything she could to start a new life with Samuel, but now this—these pictures, these memories—it was too much.

Eventually, her eyes grew heavy. The day had taken its toll on her, and slowly, exhaustion took over. Her mind quieted, and even though she still felt the weight of all those questions, sleep finally came. The last thing she saw before she drifted off was James' face, smiling at her from the past.

The next morning, Zinnia remained asleep long after the sun had risen. It was already 9 a.m., and Samuel had long since left for his office. 

In his office, Samuel called out to his secretary and personal assistant, Timmy Pascual. Timmy, with his neatly combed dark brown hair, deep blue eyes, and glasses, entered the room looking professional and focused.

"You did your job well, right?" Samuel asked, his tone serious. "No one will know we're behind this."

Timmy nodded quickly. "Yes, sir. I made sure everything was clear—no evidence was left behind."

"Good. Don't forget Zinnia's flowers. Send them over to the art gallery," Samuel added.

"Yes, sir!" Timmy replied, hurrying back to his desk.

As Timmy sat down, he muttered to himself, "Of course, I made sure no one would know. If those rich bastards find out I'm behind their punctured tires, I don't even know what'll happen."

That night, Zinnia and Samuel attended a party. Samuel sent a text to Timmy, instructing him to come to the event immediately. Timmy rushed to the venue and called Samuel as soon as he arrived.

To his surprise, Samuel's voice was grave and commanding. "I need you to do something about the tires of those rich friends of mine. Flatten them all."

Timmy was left speechless. He wanted to ask why, but he could sense Samuel's anger even through the phone. He knew better than to question his boss when he was in this kind of mood.

"Alright," Timmy said, trying to keep his voice steady. He hung up and called his trusted men, instructing them to flatten the tires while leaving no evidence behind.

As he was on the phone, he saw Samuel and Zinnia leaving the party, getting into their car, and driving away. Timmy finished his task quickly, ensuring everything was done as discreetly as possible. 

He was anxious to leave, fearing that staying too long might put him in danger from the wealthy group's retaliation. Timmy hurried home, his mind racing with the thought of what might happen if the situation went awry. When he was finally at home, he notified his boss about it.

This morning, Timmy finally understood why Samuel had given such a strange order. He watched the news with a growing sense of unease. The headlines were filled with reports of wealthy guests at a high-end party who had been left stranded for hours after their cars' tires were flattened. The news showed images of the distressed guests fuming and waiting for their car service to arrive, as taxis were not permitted at the exclusive venue.

Samuel, sitting in his office with a satisfied smirk, watched the coverage with obvious pleasure. "They deserve it!" he exclaimed. "How dare they say those infuriating things about my Goddess Zia! Especially that Mike—how dare he get close to her and whisper something bad to her? I badly want to punch his face! They made my Zia unhappy!"

Timmy sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and confusion. He wanted to ask Samuel, "Aren't you the one making Miss Zinnia unhappy? Why treat her cold when you care so much about her?"

But he didn't have the courage to bring it up. The atmosphere in the office was tense, and Timmy knew better than to challenge his boss, especially when he was in this kind of mood. Instead, he could only sigh in frustration, trying to make sense of the world of the rich and their complex dynamics.

Timmy shook his head, muttering to himself, "I really don't understand these rich people and their ways. I just hope I stay out of trouble."