𝗚𝗶𝗳𝘁 𝗙𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘆-𝗙𝗶𝘃𝗲

𝗚𝗶𝗳𝘁 𝗙𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘆-𝗙𝗶𝘃𝗲
Good Updates

❅𝗚𝗶𝗳𝘁 𝗙𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘆-𝗙𝗶𝘃𝗲❅

For a moment, all I could hear was the ringing in my ears.

The distant, distorted echo of screams.

The scraping of chairs.

The sharp crunch of glass beneath hurried footsteps.

I couldn't move.

Mazin told me to stay right here and I should listen.

Right?

The white rose on the floor was still in my line of sight, its petals soaked in blood—glistening under the dim restaurant lights.

I glanced up when a firm hand gripped my wrist, "We need to move, Virelai."

Mazin.

Her voice sliced through the chaos, low and controlled, but beneath it, I caught the edge of urgency.

I turned toward her, my body feeling unbearably stiff as I stood from behind the overturned table.

"Mazin."

My voice came out shaky, barely above a whisper.

I'm definitely not cut out for this.

I can't do any of this.

Mazin didn't look over at me—her gaze was locked onto something across the restaurant.

Then—another gunshot.

Closer this time.

I flinched.

Mazin moved.

In one swift motion, she shielded me behind her body, guiding us toward the back of the restaurant as she kept a firm grip on my waist with one hand and the gun in her other.

The holiday lights, the warm glow of candles, the half-eaten plates of food—it all blurred as we moved.

The kitchen doors busted open ahead of us.

The staff were already scrambling, knocking over trays, and shouting in panic.

Mazin didn't slow down.

"Keep moving," she told me, her grip on my wrist firm and guiding me.

My pulse pounded, running with her past the chaotic kitchen and the heavy metal doors that she pushed open.

The cold night air burned my face, wearing only my light sweater and jeans.

White snow crunched under our feet as we continued our quick pace, heading away from the restaurant toward the parking lot nearby where the Range Rover was parked.

Mazin didn't lower her gun down, even as we made it to the parking lot—she scanned around the car as she unlocked it.

Luckily, she had her keys and wallet on her—our phones were the only thing left behind, broken and shattered from tables being thrown over.

Before I could slide into the passenger seat, Mazin checked the backseat and trunk before deeming it safe.

And not even seconds later, we were both seated in the car.

Mazin turned the ignition without hesitation, putting the gear into drive.

She didn't wait for seatbelts—she just sped out of the parking lot, tires screeching against the pavement.

I reached over to buckle her seatbelt first as she sped onto the street, my fingers fumbling against the strap.

Especially when I flinched away from my window with a gasp, hearing a loud bang echo against the window.

But it didn't shatter.

Still, I found myself flinching when more bullets pounded against the car.

"It's bulletproof," Mazin said, speeding up even more, "Are you okay? Does anything hurt?" she asked, briefly glancing over to me.

I quickly nodded, "Yeah-yes, I'm okay," I forced out, now focusing back on buckling her seatbelt for her.

"Virelai," Mazin said, clearly not believing a word I just said.

I let out a soft breath when her seatbelt clicked in place, "I'm good," I tried to assure her, now buckling my own seatbelt.

But it was hard with my hands trembling uncontrollably—it forced me to inhale another deep breath to find somewhat of my composure.

I didn't want to crack this easily under something like this.

Something that I'm supposed to be able to handle.

But I don't want to handle this—I don't want to be a part of this lifestyle.

Maybe this is supposed to serve as a sign.

I'm not capable of running my dad's empire and I think that's okay.

I don't want to pretend I'm someone I'm not.

I've always enjoyed the simpler things, especially after I left for Korea.

It just sucks because I wanted to make my dad proud. 

I suddenly flinched, quickly relaxing when I noticed it was only Mazin's hand in my lap.

The warmth of her hand around mine was enough to relax me slightly, squeezing my hand tighter around hers.

I'm grateful we're okay—that she's okay.

I completely went blank and it feels like I'm finally returning to myself.

"I'm sorry I didn't do more," I suddenly whispered, now feeling guilty for not doing anything.

"No, you did exactly what I told you to do baby," Mazin said as I held our tangled hands against my chest, "That was more than enough."

I shook my head, "But I should've been able to help you or something, and I feel really bad. I feel like this really isn't for me Mazin. I can't pretend to be calm or unaffected when something like this happens—"

"I don't want you to pretend baby. You never have to pretend," Mazin quickly cut me short, merging into the left lane to get on the highway.

"But my dad's going to be so disappointed Mazin," I sighed, staring forward at the endless highway stained with light snow dusting.

"I think he wants what you want Virelai," Mazin said as she pressed down on the gas to speed up, "And it's not like you don't have anyone to look over the empire—T and I got it."

I nodded a few times, even if the idea of giving up something my dad built made my stomach twist.

"How about we figure this out when we get back to Miami?" Mazin offered, briefly glancing over to me, "We'll handle this situation now and you can give more thought to what you want to do."

I pursed my lips, remaining silent for another brief moment as I contemplated my next words very thoroughly.

But I knew this was what needed to happen.

"I'm ready to pass it over," I suddenly whispered, nodding a few times to myself, "I want you and T to take over."

Mazin gently squeezed my hand, "Anything for you baby," she didn't hesitate to say, focusing on the highway that she was now merging off of.

I relaxed in my seat, finally feeling so relieved now that I had made this decision.

It felt like a huge weight off of my chest.

Now we just needed to figure out who was behind the hit.

Or maybe just get out of Aspen altogether.

I furrowed my brows, immediately sitting up in my seat when we pulled up to the hotel.

Where ambulances, cop cars, and firetrucks were.

"Fuck," Mazin breathed out, slowly halting the car behind one of the firetrucks, "Stay here while I figure everything out," she told me, letting go of my hand.

I nodded, watching as she quickly unbuckled her seatbelt to get out of the car.

I clasped my hands together in my lap, suddenly feeling so on edge again as I watched my girlfriend approach one of the firefighters.

It was a brief conversation—one that I couldn't quite read with Mazin's back to me.

Even as she walked back to the car, I grew more concerned, unable to read her expression with her head down.

"What happened?" I asked her as soon as she slid back into the seat beside me.

Mazin shook her head, "They probably tried to call us but our phones..." she trailed off, letting out a deep sigh as she started the car, "There was a bomb and—"

"A bomb?" I asked with wide eyes, thinking about my dad first.

And then everyone else—like Nelli or Omara.

Even Tazmin and Lena, or Tahir.

Everyone was here.

"They all made it out safe, but Alena..." Mazin trailed off, immediately making my heart drop as she put the car in reverse, "She's at the hospital now."

I shook my head, feeling tears burn in my eyes, "I-I hope she's okay," I whispered, now feeling bad for suspecting she could be behind all of this.

"From what I heard, she seemed to be unconscious but breathing," Mazin said, focusing on the road ahead as she drove us to the nearest hospital.

I remained silent, analyzing my girlfriend's perfect side profile—picking up on her furrowed brows and serious expression.

It was enough to make me suddenly reach for one of her hands again, sensing her internal distress.

"We'll figure this out," I whispered to her, bringing her hand to my lips for a gentle kiss.

"I know," she said, her voice barely audible among the silent air of the car, "I'm just thinking about Tahir right now and how upset he is and I wasn't there—"

"You can't be there for everything, Mazin," I quickly assured her, not even wanting her to blame herself for any of this, "This isn't your fault."

Mazin remained silent, drawing in a deep breath at my words.

Almost to a point where it seemed like she didn't agree.

Like she genuinely thought this was all of her fault.

"Baby it's not your fault," I told her again, my voice more firmer this time.

Still, she remained silent, her grip on the steering wheel tightening as her breaths grew deeper.

I could sense it.

She wants to cry.

I always could tell even when we were kids.

Mazin has this thing of fighting the urge to cry away, subtle cues like this normally give it away to me.

"Pull over," I suddenly said.

"No," was all Mazin said, the word barely audible as she gripped the steering wheel tighter.

"Mazin, pull over," I said again, motioning over to the side of the two-way road, "I'm going to drive us."

My girlfriend shook her head again, but this time she was unable to get any words out.

That's when I felt the speed of the car grow slower before she steered to the side of the road.

And as soon as the car was in park, I unbuckled my seatbelt and opened my door to step out.

Mazin's actions were slowed, opening her own door as I rounded the car to her side.

And as she slid out of the driver's seat, I immediately reached for her waist to pull her into a hug.

Mazin didn't hesitate to hug me back, burying her face in my neck as I ran my hands soothingly up her back.

I could feel her physically relax in my arms as I pressed a soft kiss to her neck, hoping to soothe her as much as I possibly could.

"You can cry baby," I whispered, holding her tighter in my arms, "You know you never have to fight it around me."

Mazin sighed deeply against my neck, "I can't right now—I need to remain level-headed and if I let my emotions through then I can't think straight," she tried her best to explain:

I nodded, "As long as we set aside a moment to prioritize you later," I determined, wanting to ensure that she would be okay, "I also didn't realize you wanted to think straight," I said, my tone joking and making a twist on words.

And it was totally worth it when Mazin chuckled against my neck, gently squeezing my waist.

"I love you," was all she said, leaning away from the hug to briefly kiss my lips, "This made me feel so much better."

I smiled at her words, briefly kissing her lips back, "I love you too baby," I whispered softly, eyeing her beautiful face, "I'm so happy I could make you feel better."

Mazin hummed briefly kissing my lips again before we naturally pulled away, focusing back on the very big issue at hand.

It was nice to take a brief moment to hold each other and collect ourselves, but now we have to get to the hospital and pray that Alena is okay.

To help keep myself from growing anxious, I focused on the road ahead, following the GPS to the hospital.

The car ride between us was naturally silent, but not in an awkward way—more with anticipation.

Which somehow grew when we finally arrived at the hospital, rushing inside to the nearest front desk.

We had to mention Alena's full name in order for the receptionist to find her specific floor.

It took him a few minutes of checking before he successfully found her floor.

Then me and Mazin were on the move again, taking the elevator to the eleventh floor.

The good news was that she was in a hospital room and alive—she was only unconscious at this moment.

But I'm sure they've received updates from the doctor by now.

Hopefully good updates.

The private hospital room was decently big, but with everyone packed inside around Alena's hospital bed, it felt really small.

The only people here were Tazmin, Lena, Tahir, Ronan, and my dad.

All of their attention quickly flocked to me and Mazin as soon as we entered the room, aside from Tahir who only stared ahead at Alena.

“Thank god,” Lena said first, approaching us both with Tazmin by her side.

“We sent a team out to look for you guys,” Tazmin said as Lena pulled us both into a hug, causing Tazmin to wrap her arms around us as well.

“We heard shots were fired at the restaurant,” my dad said, immediately pulling me into a hug as soon as Lena and Tazmin pulled away.

“Yeah, there were around seven of them—only one was left alive,” Mazin told my dad as she walked over to Tahir.

Who sat silently in the chair by Alena, remaining purely focused on her.

Her face looked severely bruised, lying unconscious as the heart monitor beeped steadily.

“We got everyone else on the next plane out of Aspen,” Lena explained as my dad hugged me even tighter before letting me go so I could check on Tahir as well.

Ronan must’ve stayed by his side for support since Mazin wasn’t here.

“I’m so sorry, T,” Mazin said as she leaned down to hug him.

And for once in my life I witnessed how serious Tahir could be.

Even as Mazin hugged him, all he managed to do was stare forward at Alena—not lifting his arms or saying a word to his sister.

I've never witnessed him like this in all my years of knowing him. 

“Hey Maz,” Ronan whispered when Mazin leaned over to briefly hug him as well.

“She’s going to be okay,” I whispered to Tahir when I hugged him, giving his body a gentle but present squeeze.

“Alena yelled out a name when she was running out of the building,” Ronan told Mazin, and even with his voice lowered, his words still caught my attention immediately. 

Mazin furrowed her brows at his statement, “A name? She saw someone?” Mazin asked him.

Ronan nodded a few times, “They were trying to keep her inside on purpose is what we think—you know to send a message, but she made it out just as the bomb went off,” he briefly explained.

I took a step forward, “What name did she say?” I asked in a soft whisper.

Ronan parted his lips, but before he could say anything, Tahir suddenly said—

“Dove.”

His voice was lowered, void of any emotion as he continued staring forward.

Almost immediately, my eyes locked with Mazin’s.

Mostly because she called this one.