Toxic Love of Broken Billionaire

2. Horrors of Past

Copyright © 2020 MayaSam.    

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author or publisher. This book is a piece of imagination and the characters mentioned have no link to any person dead or alive. So try to follow the rules and step on an adventurous journey with Zayan and Naaya :)

ZAYAN'S POV :

There is a house. My house I think. From the traditional structure of the spiral stairs to the Persian rugs, it smirks of something know. a crowd has encircled me and they are all accusing me of something that I never did, but I don’t care about them. All I care about is my mother who is standing right in front of me silently like a mannequin. All I care about is what she has to say about this? Will she accuse me too? “I didn’t raise you to do something like this. How could you do something like this…“she spoke with a broken voice and shattered me into million pieces. That was the last straw after her accusation everyone started yelling at me “You will be alone for the rest of your life, alone and miserable….You deserve to be alone”

“You are a humiliation to the family. You should have died the day you were born” said my father standing among the crowds, but I was numb just looking at my mother with tears in my eyes.

“You should live alone,” one said.

 “You deserve to live alone…..pathetic loser” the other one added.

“NO…..noo……no …..I will not let that happen. I will not be alone…please…..Pleaseeee…don’t leave me…..please Mom I need you…..“I was saying the same words repeatedly but she was going far away from me, letting the black pit of dejection cover over me”

I woke up shuddering, trembling, with a heart-pounding out of my chest and covered in my own sweat. My whole body was quivering from the effect of a nightmare. Another one of my deadly nightmares it was. The paranoia of being abandoned by everyone has not left my sight for the past 13 years. Every night it would haunt me to my very core, that’s why I have never been able to sleep at nights. I stood up stumbling and made my way to the minibar across the hall to the left and got myself a bottle of scotch, just to lessen the grief of my mourning soul. As I  took the keys to my car and made my way to the porch with the bottle of scotch in my hands, my body jittered with the cold outside. Every night it would be the same, I would have a nightmare and I would wake up. Then I would drown myself in work or alcohol, just to forget the horrors of my past. But looks like they were never going to leave me alone.

I started driving out of the mansion with a bottle of scotch in one hand and holding the steering wheel with my other hand. Tonight I just want to contemplate where everything went wrong? Why was I the one of all who suffered? Why it always has to be me? Me.

I have everything in my life now. Everything that would be enough for a person to be satisfied with his life. Everything that a person can desire. But still, I am not happy, not even close to being happy. I don’t even know the meaning of happiness. Maybe I left my happiness at my home with my mother, my brothers, my sister, my everything.

I was the firstborn of my parents and they named me Zayan which meant “Beautiful”. Which was indeed true as I was the most adored child in our social circle. With my steel grey eyes having a hint of blue in them and dimples denting on my creamy skin anyone could get hooked to me. I was loved and cherished by everyone even by my arrogant father but that didn’t last for long. As I grew up I saw my father abusing my mother relentlessly and she would never say a word against it, which would make me angry as I couldn’t see her in pain. When I was young I would cover the ears of my brothers and took them into the room so that they wouldn’t be affected by the brutal manhandling of my father. But as I grew up the urge to rebuke him became stronger.

I remember the day when I was 12 and my father came home and my mother gave him a glass of water but her hand shivered and a few droplets of water descended on his shirt, that was when he lost his temper again and stood up to slap her. But I had enough of his tantrums. So I came forward and grasped his hand before it could land on my mother’s face and pushed him back. You should be thinking about how a 12-year-old could push a full-grown man. But I was a strong child with broad shoulders, bulging muscles, and a height of 6’0’’ at that time. I never looked the same as the other boys of my age, I was much stronger than them physically and even mentally I was much more mature.

Then it became a habit he would try to beat anyone in the family and I would come forward to protect them. But for my rebellion he would beat me with his belt with the buckle side, wrapping a double scotch tape on it, so that I could learn not to stand up against him. But I never learned my lesson. A stubborn child I was. Determined to not learn to stop.

I was seventeen when I applied for a scholarship at Harvard, even if I hadn’t applied for a scholarship I could have easily gotten myself into Harvard. Money was never a problem for my family. But it was my pride to do everything for myself by myself not taking any help from others, even if the others were my parents. I got myself into Harvard easily as I knew and everybody else knew every boy in Abbasi house was a born genius. But I never intended to leave Pakistan and go to Harvard even if it was my dream since I was a little boy. I just applied to get pride in myself for once.

I knew I couldn’t go as I had to be there for everyone else in the house, I was the protector of my mother, my brothers, and especially my little angel sister. Who I loved more than anything in this world. How could I just leave them behind and move to America? They needed me and I wanted to sacrifice myself for them.

But what my father did on my 17th birthday was enough for me to leave my home with my best friend Muhib for America and never come back.

At that moment I just wanted to leave everything behind and never come back. I just wanted to go away from all the pain, agony, and abuse I had to bear for years. I just had to go and surprisingly at that moment, I didn’t even think about my mother, who was the first priority in all matters of my life. But she made it clear that she didn’t want me by siding with my father at that time. I packed my bags and left for America, vowing to myself to never look back to the ones who left me when I needed them the most. I got my MBA from Harvard after doing a Bachelor's in Computer Science but it was not easy for me. It was really tough as I had to work at multiple part-time jobs to pay my residence dues and to afford to live in the USA.

You know the moment when you feel that everything is coming to its original place and you have at last found peace within yourself. That moment never came up for me. But I concealed my agony for not getting peace within my broken soul. I felt lucky for the first time in my life when I found my friends. Muhib was already there for me every step of the way and soon three others joined him. Brandon, Elizabeth, and Roman joined us as a ray of sunshine in our dull lives. They were all rich kids except me. All of their families were supporting them and they tried to help me too but I was an egoistic man. Who could never take help from others? So I worked at multiple part-time jobs to support myself.

For the past thirteen years, I have worked really hard to get myself everything a person can dream of. I am a multi-billionaire at the age of thirty. I have invested in multiple businesses along with the empire I have set up known as “Z TECHNOLOGIES”, the top IT company in America. My company earns millions in a snap of my fingers. But I don’t stop at that. I work and work just to become invincible. So that no one could ever reach me and hurt me again as they did 13 years ago. Another secret that I hold deep in myself is that I hate to be alone but it is what has been written for me in my fate. I am a ruthless and hard-hearted man. I am a cold-blooded beast who gets what he wants, even if getting that thing means hurting someone.

I was deep in my thoughts while scotch was doing its magic. My hands were shaking and my eyes were wet. Never in my life has anyone seen me cry but today I was crying taking a trip down memory lane. The car was shuddering as I was losing control over the steering wheel and then suddenly scotch took over and I lost control completely. The car stumbled across the sideway into the deep forest. The moment car hit the trees I thought I was dead. My body jerked to the dashboard and my forehead collided with the steering wheel. That was the moment I almost lost my consciousness, but then I saw someone coming towards me, maybe she was a girl. The only thing I could see was her deep amber eyes.

There was one other person with her. But I couldn’t say for sure as I could only see the silhouette due to the darkness around the forest. She was screaming something but I couldn’t hear anything as I was slowly losing myself to the pitch-black horrors of my past.

“He is breathing…He is alive” I heard her saying to someone.

Maybe this is the end at last I thought to myself before giving myself up to the darkness.