(Karsten)
Ranold???
The thought made my brain spin.
My best friend?
The man I had known for the last 12 years. The man I had raised to where he was.
Could he have taken my Arata?
But why?
The thought unsettled on so many levels.
What other explanation could there be for her earring to end up in his jeep?
I knew he liked her and always tried to rile up to see my reaction but was he stalking her?
I needed to be sure; this could be another set-up by the stalker.
I knew by now the person was witty enough to plant evidence.
So like a maniac, I made a few more calls
Ma and Roshra watched with concern, not interrupting until I was ready to speak.
Finally, I turned to face them.
"I will have answers soon, I need more evidence."
Taking long strides I walked away to be alone and entered Ma’s garden. My feet carried towards the Pergola. The blue roses still clung to its bamboo poles and I was reminded of that kiss Arata and I had shared right on this spot.
The ache returned tenfold and almost blinded .
What wouldn’t I give to kiss her again in this very spot?
My phone sounded again, disrupting my thoughts.
This ti it was a call from the IT guy who had been trying to crack the code for so many days.
Swiping quickly, I received the call.
Maybe, he finally had the answers. My heart hoped it wasn’t Ranold.
"Sir, we have cracked the code and narrowed down the computer used to hack into the system," he triumphantly said.
"Who is it?"
"It’s Mr Whittle’s computer. I am not sure if soone used his computer or..." he didn’t complete the sentence, he didn’t need to.
"Thanks, I will appreciate it, if you keep this information contained for now. You might have to provide evidence to the police soon. I will keep in touch."
"Absolutely, Sir. You can count on ." There was pride in his voice as the call ended but it left feeling stupid and betrayed.
Ranold of all people?
I never even suspected him. Not even once.
He was like a brother to , always there through thick and thin our company faced.
Was he that slick when it ca down to computers?
He was overly smart with an IQ of at least 160. That much I was aware of. He possessed a shrewd sense of business dealing, too, and had acquired the position in the company through his hard work.
But did he have stalker tendencies?
Or any beef with Arata’s family?
I knew nothing about Ranold’s father and only knew his mother.
Karen Whittle.
They had always shown that his father was a sensitive topic they didn’t wish to dwell on and I had believed them and respected their privacy.
Never pushing, never investigating.
But, it was ti I did.
Dialling another computer specialist on my beck and call now I said.
"Get everything on Karen Whittle."
"On it."
Ending the call I leaned against the bamboo pole and hurriedly dialled Caysir.
He received the call on the second bell and I instantly asked.
"Update?"
"Sir, I am trying to gather footage from caras in the vicinity of Miss Arata’s apartnt. The police have already gathered from many but I am trying to see if I can see the jeep," he paused and then continued. "When I stopped at a coffee shop which is just around the corner from the building. The guard asked where I had gotten this jeep. He said he saw it a couple of nights ago and wanted to ask the owner but he was in a hurry."
My heart drowned. What was Ranold doing near Arata’s building?
This ant he had co to see her. Could he have lured her outside?
"Did he see a lady with him? Do they have a cara outside?" I asked, my restless legs now pacing the garden as my hands frustratedly pushed my hair away.
"Sadly, there were no caras, and he couldn’t see inside the jeep because of the tinted glass. But he rembered the plates and this was the jeep," Caysir inford .
"Keep updated and don’t say a word to Ranold." The rage had overpowered every other emotion in my body.
"Yes, Sir!" The call dropped and I knew what I needed to do.
I was going to get my woman back. The one person I had trusted the most had betrayed and taken her away.
Destroyed her hair, harassed her and God knew what.
I was going to give him such a torture-filled life that he would be sorry he even breathed or beca my friend.
The incident from 12 years ago beca fresh in my mind. No matter how hard I tried I didn’t rember anything of the accident apart from what Ranold and his mother told in the hospital.
Sohow I had hit my head so hard and instantly blacked out, repressing that mory. I only rembered the screeches of a car and sothing red.
Did they orchestrate that accident to co into my life? After that, they stuck to , saying they had saved my life, and I felt so indebted to them.
The pieces now began to finally fall into place.
Ranold ca to our house for Christmas and went upstairs to use the bathroom. That’s when he must have planted the masks.
He was always around, hovering so it was easy for him to find my secrets.
Damn! I even shared most of them myself.
He was the one who referred and found Arata. That ant he also contributed to breaking up her engagent and sohow transferred the bla to .
So blinded, I had been extrely blinded by him.
And then the IT guy sent the information, regarding his mother.
I read and was left bewildered.
She worked as a secretary for Doran Blackthorn; the man Arata’s mother was married to before Zyair Kincaid.
The man was an abuser and had even kidnapped Skyla Kincaid when she was pregnant with Arata.
Karen Whittle was in jail for a few months, for being an accomplice to Doran.
And then I clicked on the picture of Doran Blackthorn.
Ranold Whittle was the exact copy of that man.
It wouldn’t take a genius to put two and two together.
Ranold was Doran’s illegitimate son and was seeking revenge on behalf of his father.
The truth was right there in front of now. There was no doubt left.
Fucker ssed with the wrong man. He had only seen my brotherly love for him, it was ti to show how dark my heart was.
Calling another number, I said.
"I need two fake passports. One male one female. I am returning to Marica City."
Ending the call I barged inside the house and found Roshra in deep talks with Ma. Both of them wore such grim faces that I knew they were worried about .
Seeing approach, they quieted down. I stopped right in front of them and addressed my sister.
"Roshra, we are leaving for Marica City. Pack your bag."
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