Unexpected News

"Did you fire Zayn?" Mira's voice was cool and controlled, but the sharp edge of anger sliced through her words. She stood in the doorway, her posture stiff, her hands clenched into fists by her sides.

Zamian looked up from his desk, his expression infuriatingly calm as he met her gaze. His dark eyes held no trace of emotion, a stark contrast to the storm brewing within her. "What if I did?" His voice was smooth, almost casual, as if they were discussing the weather rather than a person's livelihood.

Mira felt a flare of frustration burn through her chest. She stepped further into the room, her soft footsteps echoing in the silence. "What gives you the right?" she demanded, her voice trembling slightly despite her effort to remain composed. "I hope firing him had nothing to do with his gardening that day."

Zamian didn't respond immediately. His gaze remained steady on hers, unwavering, as if he were weighing his options. The silence stretched on, thick and oppressive, until Mira couldn't take it any longer.

"I want you to rehire him," she said, her tone firm, leaving no room for argument.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Zamian's lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "And why, Mira, should I listen to you?"

Her frustration mounted, her anger simmering just beneath the surface. Without another word, she turned and stormed out of the office, the door slamming shut behind her with a resounding bang. The sound rumbled through the corridor, startling the silence into submission.

Zamian stared at the closed door, his expression unchanged, but his thoughts were a turbulent mess. He had never seen her like this—so fiery, so defiant. It was as though she had peeled away a layer of herself he hadn't known existed, revealing something raw and untamed.

Meanwhile, Mira descended the grand staircase, each step more determined than the last. Her mind raced, filled with a mix of guilt and resolve. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she spotted Nana waiting in the foyer.

"Nana," she called out, her voice slightly breathless. "Please call James for me."

Nana nodded and disappeared down the hall. Moments later, James appeared, his tall figure framed in the doorway.

"Yes, Miss Mira?" James asked, his tone respectful but with a hint of curiosity. He had sensed the tension in the air as soon as he walked in.

"I need you to pick me up early tomorrow," Mira instructed, her voice steady but her mind still reeling from the confrontation. "Drop me off at work one hour earlier than usual."

James nodded, his expression neutral, though he couldn't help but notice the strain in her voice. "Of course, Miss Mira. I'll be ready."

With that settled, Mira moved toward the dining room, where the long, elegant table was set for dinner. She didn't have much of an appetite, but she sat down anyway, needing a moment to collect her thoughts. Nana entered the room, her steps soft and careful as she approached.

"Is the food ready?" Mira asked, her eyes focused on the tablecloth, tracing the intricate patterns with her finger.

"No, Miss Mira, not yet," Nana replied, her tone gentle.

Mira sighed softly, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "Are there noodles?"

"Yes"Nana confirmed with a small smile.

Nodding, Mira stood up and headed to the kitchen, her mind already drifting away from the confrontation. The kitchen was warm, the scent of spices and freshly baked cake lingering in the air. She quickly prepared her noodles, the repetitive motions of cooking providing a strange sense of comfort. After making them, she sat alone at the small kitchen table, the soft clink of her chopsticks the only sound in the room as she ate in silence.

Once she had finished, Mira made her way upstairs to their bedroom. The room was dimly lit, the evening light filtering through the heavy curtains casting long shadows across the floor. She paused at the door, taking in the sight of the empty bed, the neatly folded sheets, and the untouched pillow where Zamian should have been. Her chest tightened with a mix of emotions she couldn't quite name—anger, guilt, confusion.

Finally, she slipped into bed, pulling the covers up to her chin as she stared at the ceiling. The events of the day played over and over in her mind, but the more she thought about it, the more her anger dissipated, leaving behind a hollow ache. She didn't want to go to bed angry, but the exhaustion from the day's emotional turmoil was overwhelming. Her eyes grew heavy, and soon, she drifted off to sleep, her mind finally finding some peace in the darkness.

---

Mira woke up earlier than usual, the first light of dawn creeping through the curtains. She lay there for a moment, staring at the faint patterns on the ceiling, her mind still groggy with sleep. As the events of the previous day slowly came back to her, a sense of unease settled in her stomach. She sat up, pushing the covers aside, and glanced at the empty side of the bed where Zamian usually slept. The sheets were cold, untouched.

With a deep sigh, Mira got out of bed as she walked to the bathroom to have her bath immediately she was done she dressed. She chose her usual attire, but the routine felt oddly mechanical, as if she were on autopilot. A pang of guilt struck her as she recalled the way she had slammed the door on Zamian the day before. Her anger had been so intense, so consuming, but now, in the quiet morning light, it seemed almost… childish.

As she made her way downstairs, she mentally prepared herself for the day ahead. Nana was already in the Dining , her back to Mira as she prepared breakfast.

"Good morning, Miss Mira," Nana greeted her, turning around with a warm smile. "It's time for breakfast."

Mira hesitated for a moment before shaking her head. "There's no need for that today, Nana. I'd like to leave early. I'll grab breakfast at the office."

Nana's smile faltered slightly, but she nodded in understanding. "Of course, Miss." She bowed slightly, her expression thoughtful as Mira headed toward the front door.

James was waiting outside, his posture relaxed but attentive. "Good morning, Miss Mira," he said as he opened the car door for her.

Mira managed a small smile in return, though her mind was elsewhere. As she settled into the backseat, she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in her chest. The car ride was silent, the soft hum of the engine the only sound as they made their way through the early morning traffic.

When they arrived at the office, Mira reached for the door handle before James could assist her. "You don't need to worry," she said softly as she stepped out of the car, closing the door gently behind her.

Inside the office, Mira made her way to her desk, trying to focus on the tasks ahead. But her mind kept drifting back to the confrontation with Zamian. She could still feel the residual anger, but it was tempered now by a growing sense of regret.

Her stomach growled suddenly, a sharp reminder that she hadn't eaten much the night before. She ignored it at first, trying to bury herself in work, but the dizziness that followed was impossible to overlook. Mira sighed and reached for her phone, scrolling through Hellogram in an attempt to distract herself.

As she scrolled, a post caught her eye—a photo of her apartment, taken from a distance, showing her and Zamian stepping out together. She recognized the dark blue suit she had worn that day. The caption was innocuous enough, but the post had garnered over 131,000 comments in just 12 hours.

Her heart skipped a beat as she skimmed through the comments, but her dizziness made it hard to concentrate. The words blurred together, a jumbled mess of opinions and speculation.

Feeling overwhelmed, Mira decided she needed something to eat before she could deal with this. She saved the post for later, her mind still reeling from the sheer number of comments. As she left her office, she ran into Lily near the elevator.

"Are you going somewhere?" Lily asked, her tone casual but with a hint of concern.

"I'm just grabbing some snacks from the nearest convenience store," Mira replied, forcing a smile.

Lily nodded, her eyes lingering on Mira a moment longer before stepping into the elevator. Mira continued down the hall, her pace quickening as she headed for the exit. The cool air outside hit her face, refreshing and crisp, clearing some of the fog in her mind.

***

Zamian sat in his office, his eyes fixed on the laptop screen in front of him. The contrast between the dark ink of the documents and the bright light from the screen mirrored the turmoil in his mind. His knuckles were slightly bruised, a reminder of the punch he had thrown at the desk earlier. The keys of the laptop lay scattered across the polished wood, a testament to the force of his frustration.

He couldn't quite understand why he had reacted this way. He was always so controlled, so meticulous, yet here he was, sitting in a room full of chaos of his own making. His hair, usually neatly combed back, had fallen into disarray, with a few strands hanging loose over his forehead. But he didn't care. He didn't care about anything at the moment.

The oppressive silence in the room was suddenly shattered by the sharp ring of Zemian's phone. He ignored it at first, too lost in the storm of his own thoughts. The sound persisted, slicing through the stillness like a blade until, with a reluctant sigh, he picked it up.

"Yes?" Zemian's voice was clipped.

James's voice came through the receiver, low and urgent. "It's about Miss Mira…"

A cold knot formed in Zemian's stomach, tightening with every word James spoke. The world around him seemed to slow, the edges of his vision narrowing as the full weight of James's message hit him like a ton of bricks:

Mira was missing.