FracturedFractured
By: Webfic

Chapter 3

Adrian Ten years later After I came out of hospital Augustus adopted me and financed on my studies. With determination and hard work I finished my education completing masters in my favourite subject business analytics. Mom had almost gone insane finding no information about me but when she came to know about my whereabouts, her happiness had no boundaries. She thanked the Martins whole heartedly and now the Martin's house is like my second home.  Augustus handed over all his businesses in New York and overseas to me after introducing me as his legal heir. I walk through the foyer to the entrance of the Martin's house holding a bouquet of yellow roses. "Happy birthday mom" bending down I kiss the cheeks of Angelica, truly an Angel like her name says who gave rebirth to me in this world by her selfless care, humanity, patience and became a second mother to me. "The roses are beautiful. Thank you." She speaks with love and hugs me. In the midst of laughter and giggles the lunch was served. I eyed the fish fingers in haste. Mom arrested my eyes with hers in a warning tilting her index finger. "Those are not for you." She tells me in a voice only I can hear and serves me fresh green salad she prepared specially for me. She is always worried about my health and keeps an eye on what I eat because I still have to avoid certain foodstuffs concerning my health.  Dad had a taunting snicker adorned on his rims. I was thankful his vision wasn't directed to me though nothing goes unnoticed from his experienced eyes. Abigail came home for mom's birthday two days ago cancelling on her teacher's seminar. Abigail is a teacher. She loves kids and had chosen the profession matching her tastes. Her husband Devon is a professional guitarist. He will be joining us in the evening dinner as he had a performance in the afternoon. I learnt playing guitar from him for the love I uphold for music. Alessandro was present for the lunch along with his wife Edith, the daughter of Allen and Arianna Rodriguez. They had been childhood sweethearts since primary school and are married three years from now. Edith is seven months pregnant with their first baby. "Hey man, how is life going?" Alessandro asks once we were out of the dining after lunch. "Sweet and hot" I reply him with a wink but in a whisper that only he can hear. His ears turn red looking for any women around us. "You need to get settled man, you are already twenty six." I shook my head idly changing the channels of the TV with the remote. "No way man, I'm happy with my present life free of any responsibilities." A maid comes with the desert in a tray and each of us picks a bowl of fruit pudding. "You never know when you fall in love. Once the right girl approaches, you will have no control on your emotions and all your previous theories will go down the drain." He professes gazing at Edith with so much love. "Whatever man..." I evade the heart wrecking subject I had enough experience of. As Allesandro gets up to help Edith sit placing a pillow on her back, dad walks to me. "Son, how is the business going?" He hands me a glass of wine and both of us walk to the study. "The business is good dad...." I tell him in a half smile. There is always this disquietude in my heart that keeps haunting my dreams for the near death that I suffered. Dad pats my shoulder.  "I can understand."  A knowing smile played on his brims. He goes to the large bookshelf and picks a voluminous book in a red binding. "Read this book and it will give you peace." I looked at him quizzical. Oh no, was he handing me a Bible? He gives me an understanding smile. "Like you think it is not the Bible. How does he read me so good?  "Yet it is a book which would bring serenity in your mind. It holds the key to satisfy your incense against the Witmores." I went pale in seconds and looked at my father in a daze.  Am I so easy for him to understand? He refills my glass, a warm smile adorning his brims. "I am your father, though not the one given you a birth but I have seen you grow from your bleakest moments. I know how your mind functions and I'm proud of what you are today." He takes a sip of wine from the glass and continues. "I was once upon a time in your shoes and had the same kind of grudge against my father-in-law." He lights a cigarette and studies me through his guarding orbs. "Though your feelings for Amaira aren't exactly the same I held for Angelica this book will still help you with the solutions for attaining tranquillity and rid you of the chagrin  you are experiencing right now." I thank him and take the red binding book to walk to the exit but he calls me back. "Crush those Witmores. I want an answer for every suffering my family suffered because of them." I was stunned by his confession but do not take a second to answer him. "Squashing the Witmores will be the only aim in my life from now, dad." One month later... I idly walked the upscale Covington Art House. Yes I own this art gallery. It is special to me because it is my first investment after taking over my father's business. Since my initial years of adulthood I had been a diehard fan of exquisite paintings. The walls of my house are decorated with graceful master pieces of famous painters but for this time I flicked a bored gaze over the current pieces gracing the exhibit walls. Unusually, nothing among the displays seemed to excite me. I rounded the corner and nearly ran into a short, slim, plainly agitated blonde who dropped her art portfolio at the unexpected contact. She pushed her glasses deeper on the bridge of her nose and then bent to collect her spilled artwork, her small hands fluttering with anxiety as she attempted to quickly grab her art and bail. Long blonde hair trailed down her back in gentle curls and waves and I was struck with the image of twisting that gorgeous mane in my palm. She had the most beautiful chocolate browns and her slender fingers were soft and long that brushed mine tenderly while collecting her art works. "I'm sorry" I mutter and help her with the scattered stationary.  She shoved the artwork deeper in her bag about to hustle but I stop her. "I'm Adrian Martin, the CEO of Sunrise Industries and the owner of this art house." I tell her hypnotized by her chocolate browns. Why are these novel feelings erupting in me, the feelings I buried long back in my heart, the feelings I did not assume still exist in my nub. She looks at my lips when I speak to her and my libido involuntarily raises. Was she attracted to me like I was to her? She doesn't reply but let's out a smile, a smile any man would swoon for but unfortunately with no fruitful result. "Hey pretty woman I want to know your name." I call her going cocky and stop her on her way as she tries to walk away." Her vision again directs to my lips and she tells me in a sign language. I narrow my eyes and give a light shrug unable to understand her when the manager of the art house runs to me. "Sir she is Christina Casablanca a final year student of our art college and a painter. She is deaf and dumb, lost her speech and hearing due to an accident ten years ago. If you could talk slow, by the moment of your rims she would understand what you speak and replies using the movements of hands." So that is why she was looking at my lips. She was trying to read me and I thought....I shook my head embarrassed by my stupidity. Such a beautiful girl yet with no speaking and hearing skills! God must have gone crazy and stone hearted when he made this pretty girl but I'm not a man going to fold his hands and accept the fate. I am the one who is going to turn the tide and question the destiny. "Send Christina to my cabin." I tell the manager and walk to my room. Within a couple of minutes I hear a knock and she walks inside. This time I was slow in my words so that she could read my lips. "Take a seat Christina." I tell her softly. When she was comfortable, I walk around the table to stand beside her with my hands folded and legs crossed leaning to the desk. She gets anxious with the proximity and pulls her chair back to create a safe distance between us. I guard her anxious movements careful without saying a word and speak softly to her. "I am not going to harm you Christina. I like your art, your innocence and everything about you. Give me some time to learn your language because you can't understand mine. I do not want any hurdles in our communication." I tell her unswerving and point to the sketch she shifted into her bag. "How much are you planning to sell it for?" She takes a slip from her bag and writes the amount. "1000 dollars is a very small amount for such an amazing masterpiece." I add three more zeroes to her amount and hand her the check. Her eyes go wide learning the amount and she begins to shake her head. I smile and answer her. "Mention not."

© Webfic, All rights reserved

DIANZHONG TECHNOLOGY SINGAPORE PTE. LTD.

Terms of UsePrivacy Policy