His Beloved

2

He entered the villa he despised yet cherished the most at the same time. It had been dull since forever. The villa was up, at the top of the hills, overlooking the whole Wayazo. The town he loved from the bottom of his heart. The building stood proud on hundreds of acre. Looming over all the others in the estate. With modern technology's security, the tall iron gates opened only for the ones deserving. The vast greened lawn was spread out on both the sides of the pathway leading to the ancient, elegantly engraved front door after the modern designed porch. The walls were intact, well maintained and painted. The lawn was filled with green and and green as far as the sight can go. But there were no flowers blooming. The fresh air, the dew still frosted upon the leaves, yet nothing interested him of this house. The pavement was still damp because of the heavy rain last night, yet he didn't glance down on the mess of the mud on the ground. He knew his workers will be doing their job well.

The building stood with the help of red bricks, giving away it's vibrancy. The windows all shaded black, no one can see inside yet insiders have a view of outside. The plants lined up on the steps of the threshold.

Stepping inside, he quietly closed the door behind him, not wanting to make a sound and disturb anyone, but only if here someone lived apart from him.

Strolling inside, he passed the living room which was all open and had the precised comfy sofas and coffee table. The canvases were meaningless at the first glance yet only the precised can see through them, only some can see the depth it carried as they hung on the beige walls all around the drawing room. The large fawn carpet hid the hard floor underneath. The furniture, the show pieces all modern yet antique. The place itself screamed rich. Every single thing was precised, beautiful, yet there was something gloomy in the air. It stank of melancholy.

Stepping away and into the open kitchen he strolled over to the refrigerator cabinet. Taking out a bottle of chilly water, he drank down the liquid, wetting his parched throat.

The kitchen was sleek, professionally designed. Sparkly granite counters, well equipped and filled with stainless and spotless appliances and up to date machinery. Tidied tiled floor, plush cabinets and scrubbed steels. The kitchen was modernized and ready for a professional chef to do his charms.

The clatters of cutlery was heard as the maids prepared their breakfast. With a slight nod to the elder woman, who supervised the house, he made a beeline to his room upstairs, away from all the noises and fuss.

Padding up the styled rounded stairs, he took off his jacket. Closing the door behind him, he tossed the cloth aside and stripped right away. The room was all dark and sulky. A master bed and a dresser all grey and lavish. The plush couch on the other end, a lamp stood tall and the ash table beside. The room was chilly and carpeted, floor covered in dark grey almost black.

The bathroom was no less, it all screamed extravagant. With modern technology inside, it was all beautiful and looked untouched yet he used it every day, since as far as he can remember. Taking a shower and wrapping a towel around his torso, he stepped into the walk in closet. All filled with dated clothes, nothing of not any brand. His accessories, his clothes his shoes all lined up in to the allotted places, his watches and cufflinks all showcased in the transparent box in the middle, velvet underneath. He was loaded, it was not hard to guess, after all he was the Mayor of his beloved town.

Getting dressed into his white shirt and black suit, he was all ready. With no tie, as he prefers, he was without a doubt a handsome hunk. Clasping his watch and cufflinks together, he made a beeline for the dining room, not before picking up his sleek black phone from the charging spot.

The room was spacious and grand. The huge mahogany table took up the most place. The sleek dark table was all antique and eye-catching. The breakfast spread out, in various variety, yet it did not affect him. The room was exquisite, the walls were all covered in gold shimmers, in the middle stood a golden candelabra. At the end of the table, was the French floor length window, the lawn's view was breathtaking.

At the left of the head chair sat a frail man, who was his reason to live. Who was a man of power yet failed miserably in the game of love. He was just an older version of Daniyal. Same penetrating brown eyes, dark brown hair, almost black. crooked, pointed nose, a set of plump lips, thickly shaped eyebrows, a slight silver beard and sharp chin. He was a man with authority yet he stepped down long back handing over the control to his only son.