Chapter 14: Chapter 13-Home Alone

Camelia watches from the front double doors as her parents leave for the night to a company event which would keep them busy for the next few hours.  Accompanying them was a tall, burly man–their own personal bodyguard just incase danger struck.   She exhales loudly, closing the door and punches in the security system code to secure the house.

How long were they to live in fear and wait for Nathan Diam to make his first move, Camelia could only ponder as she leaned her back against the door.

Nathan Diam still had yet to make a move since his threatening letter to her mother. So far she'd learned her father, Kent and the others they employed were working hard to track him down, but with no success. It was tiring, if not frustrating, to always look over her shoulder in fear, in uncertainty, knowing at any moment the enemy may emerge from the shadows and strike.

In Camelia's opinion it was too quiet.

She never voiced her concerns out loud keeping her thoughts hidden, fearing it was bound to increase the doubts and worry in the minds of her family members.  But something was bound  to happen, Camelia could feel it down in the pit of her stomach leaving her with countless sleepless nights overthinking about it.

The real question was when.

It was common knowledge that criminals waited for ideal conditions in order to act, and it felt like the strike was nearing closer.  She felt like a fox to the hunter, with a black vulture circling the cage in which she was trapped.  Waiting.

She was worried for herself and even more so for her mother and father. Camelia hated how they suffered silently. They were troubled and anxious no matter how strong they appeared. They never showed a weakness.  A smile never slipped from their faces. Little did they know, they hadn't need to voice their thoughts. The body language they exhibited was a open book where the words were invisibly written by how they acted.

After all, actions spoke louder then words.

Camelia wished she wasn't blessed with a strong sense of observation.  If it was knowledge or a type of gift she didn't know, but it was easy for her to see passed the facades, seeing what others were not too keen on showing.

She too mimicked her parents indifference, never revealing her own doubts.  Pretending to act nonchalant, as if a black cloud wasn't hovering above their heads waiting to become a rainstorm. Every morning she woke up with a smile when all she wanted to do was sink down and curl up into a ball in the corner of the room. She laughed, when she wanted to weep at the injustice of the world. She carried her suffering like a invisible crown secured atop her head and stayed brave for their sakes.

Leaning away from the door she turned in the direction of the kitchen.  Passing by the hallways, she stopped a moment and took her time to look at the pictures hanging on the wall her mother accumulated over the years as Camelia and her siblings grew up.  She smiled sadly at a picture of her brother Zayn, Jasmine and herself.  Even Raja, their father's pet panther was in the picture, sitting back on his paws. Unfortunately, he passed away from old age before she hit her teens.

They were staring at the camera with big grins, arms wrapped around one another.  Her brother was ten, Jamsine was five and Camelia was four years old.   The picture was taken right after a bike ride, in front of their home's circular driveway.  They still lived in the same house their parents bought when they married, twenty-five years ago.

Time had changed them all but the setting was still the same. Camelia attempted to smile but her lips turned down, her lower lip beginning to quiver slightly and her eyes misted, forcing her to unleash her sadness.

She missed them dearly and never felt lonelier than she did at that very moment.

The house was empty without their constant bickering and laughter. It was hard to be separated thousands of miles apart. They've been in London for a whole year now, helping run her father's hotel chain. They spoke often but it was never enough.

Camelia brushed the lone tear from her cheek, stomped on the bout of sadness threatening her resolve and continued to the kitchen to make popcorn for the movie she and Kent were to watch while her parents were away.

Earlier that day he dropped her off at home after a full day of classes but promised to return to watch her like a little child in need of babysitting because it wasn't safe to be home alone. Camelia never bothered to argue that she didn't need him around. She sensed he was incredibly stubborn and didn't feel like arguing; too mentally exhausted to put up a fight.

It had been two long weeks since Kent entered her life, reminding her everyday of his purpose and priorities. It was the same routine nearly everyday since then. He picked her up for school, accompanied her to classes and brought her home. Afterwards, he worked hard beside her father to find the whereabouts of Nathan Diam.

After their uncomfortable discussion, Camelia refrained from getting too personal and Kent did likewise, keeping there relationship strictly professional. Only the necessities were exchanged but nothing in depth occurred nor was said furthermore after that uncomfortable day in the French restaurant.

However, it didn't stop the looks they exchanged. The knowing glint in his crisp blue eyes, that made her want to ask him what he was thinking. The tender, reassuring smile he had on his face that assured her everything was going to be okay. The way his body invaded her personal space so she would stay protected. The death glares he gave people that were starring as they passed by. He tried hiding his feelings whatever they were, but he didn't realize his eyes and actions spoke another language of their own.

On several occasions Kelly passed but never uttered a word.  Kent's dark, murderous look was enough to have her fast walking in the opposite direction.  Kent cared more than a bodyguard should and his simple acts of loyalty were not missed by her.

But he was quickly becoming a curse than a guardian angel as the days trickled by. He was the road block she could never pass.  It was times like these that made it difficult to stay positive especially when she was forbidden to leave the house without Kent's supervision.

She sighs again and grinds her teeth in frustration.

Kent, who almost always advised against venturing out of the house unless it were for school made her feel trapped, stuck, with no means of escape.  It became depressing to have him watch her every move taking away the luxury of privacy.  He felt like more of an anchor than a companion. She wasn't even allowed to venture outside alone on their vast acre worth of land in the back of the house.

Camelia had to constantly remind herself it was for her own good. Trying to give credit where it's due.  She was not selfish but the fiercely independent wild girl living inside needed her own alone time to recharge.  Sure, her home was her kingdom of solitude but when the threat arose about her safety, it disturbed the balance in her life.  She was thrown an unexpected curve ball.

In the end she excluded herself from everyone she knew, confined to her room, studying, reading, eating and sleeping.

It felt like she was outside the window looking in, that's how trapped and alone it became. She did what she knew best and became invisible, blending into the shadows, trying to keep herself entertained and out of harms way, eliminating any risks to her safety and others.

One particular day, after mulling around the house with nothing to do, Camelia found the door to her father's study open. It was normally closed when he held meetings or was working.  She was about to pass by without a second thought until hearing Kent's voice. Using it to her advantage, and allowing her curiosity to get ahold of her, she decided to stop and eavesdrop. She ended up gaining and confirming more information then ever.

Her father's dealings with him were too personal and not at all formal like she expected as she eagerly listened.  It wasn't on a professional level between employer and employee.  It merged on the lines of friendship—almost like comrades.  They were both laid back and at ease.  They spoke like two people that have known each other for a very long time.  At times they chuckled and shared drinks. They spoke of Nathan's possible locations of course, but they also spoke of personal business.

Kent's in particular.

Her father had asked him how own businesses were running in Kent's absence making Camelia's eyes widen as she heard his curt reply, "Everything is running well, my management team is on top of it."

"If there's anything you ever need me to assist you with, you need only notify me." Her father replied.

"Thank you Julien."

Businesses?

Her suspicions were rightfully in place. Kent was more than a bodyguard.

Her intuitive, almost psychic nature, saw there was something very big being kept from her, lost in a abyss of lies and secrets.   It gnawed at her insides everyday and throughout the day since that afternoon and was the main source of her mounting irritation.

It was exhausting to put on a act she was alright with everything occurring behind her back. It was drowning the innocence and light within her.  The bitterness began stacking claim of all the peace and contentment.

Her thoughts drifted away as her phone begins to ring in the back pocket of her jeans.  Reaching for it, a genuine smile brightens her face for the first time in weeks. Accepting the FaceTime call, the face she was deprived of for almost a year pops on the screen.

It was her sister.

"Hello sunshine!"  Jasmine says with a sleepy smile.

"Hi, sleepy head!"  Camelia replies with a chuckle, "What are you doing up at this hour?"  She looked down at her watch, continuing toward the kitchen.  It was four in the morning, London time.

"I woke up to get a drink of water and thought of you."  Jasmine says with a yawn.  Her light brown hair was disheveled from sleep and her eyes were puffy.

"I was just thinking about you and Zayn as a matter of fact.  You must have read my thoughts."

Holding the phone with one hand, Camelia bends down to reach for a pot from the cabinet to start making the popcorn.

"Maybe.  You know what they say: Great minds think alike....so what are you doing?  Or should I ask how are you doing?"  Jasmine props her head against her arm after she adjusts the pillow under her.

"Just peachy," barely keeping the sarcasm and bitterness out of her voice. "It's been hell actually.  I hate my life."   She mumbled, placing the pot on the stove and going to the walk-in panty to retrieve the kernels.  "I'm making popcorn for when my bodyguard comes to babysit me.  We're watching a movie while mom and dad are away for the night at some function."

"Care to elaborate?  Has anything happened?  Have they found anything about the piece of shit yet?"

Camelia added peanut oil and turned on the gas stove burner.  She propped her phone one of the jars on the counter and angled it where Jasmine could still see her.    "No they haven't.  Still working on it.  It's hard to feel comfortable around a complete stranger all the time.  I have no privacy unless I'm in my room.  I'm afraid to go out.  I feel like I'm in jail.  The list goes on...It's frustrating as hell."   She said as she added the kernels to the heated oil.

"Hang in there, grumpy." Camelia frowns and Jasmine winks, clearly trying to pass a joke. "I know it's hard.  Wish I was with you."  Jasmine tried consoling her.  "You do know Dad placed bodyguards to protect us round the clock, he's not taking any risks."

"I believe and so does everybody else that this psychopath is targeting me directly.  The note specified 'little one'.  I'm the only one here, and the youngest, unless of course it's just a detour and he has something bigger up his sleeve for all of us, God forbid."  Camelia's ranting doesn't end, continuing after a quick exhale.  "Mom and dad are freaked out, I can tell no matter how well they try to hide it.  It's hard to be positive when you don't know what's going to happen to you or when.  Some days I feel like pulling my hair out."  Placing the cover on the pot she waited as the oil sizzled and the kernels cooked and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Are you home alone right now?"  Jasmine asks with a frown and sits up as if she suddenly just realized the fact.

"Yes, it's not a big deal, Kent's on his way.  I'm sure he'll be here any minute."  Camelia shrugged, bending her upper body and resting her elbows on the counter.  "How's Zayn, I miss him so much."

"He's fine." She replies absentmindedly. "Where's Mona?" The concern was now etched on the plains of her face.

"She has the night off, let the woman breathe, it's not like she cooks for a living.  She has an outside life too.  Besides it's not the end of the world if I'm alone for a little bit."   Jasmine started to say something when Camelia interrupts, holding up a hand.  "Please spare me the speech of it's not safe and all that bull."  She concluded with a roll of her eyes.   "Nothing's going to happen."

A pang of unease settled in the pit of her stomach as soon as she uttered her last words while goosebumps raced up and down her arms.  She felt as though she placed one of the biggest jinxes on herself by saying, nothing's going to happen.

"Don't say that!  That's what they all say, don't you remember all the movies we've seen?"  Jasmine practically screeches, raking a hand through her thick brown hair.

"Jasmine I'm at home and I'm safe." She replies sounding more calm than she felt.   "We have guards placed at the entrance of the gates and the security cameras are up and going.  I turned the alarm on when mom and dad left.  Don't worry.  If you continue to talk like that you're going to make me more paranoid than I already am." She says releasing a deep shaky breath.  Her arms began to shake involuntarily.

Camelia stood upright quickly to stop the shaking and glanced at the pot which began popping the corn.  Every second a kernel would explode against the lid until it started to accumulate into a big white mountain.

"I'm sorry,  I've watched too many horror movies in my life that I wish I hadn't. I'm scarred.  Just please be safe.  I'm afraid for you."

"I'm afraid for me too."  Camelia mumbles and turns off the burner when all the popping stops.

Grabbing a towel she holds the side handles and dumps the popcorn in the waiting bowl by the stove.  Turning around and taking a few steps to the kitchen island, she takes the sea salt and goes back to the bowl to grind some over the freshly made popcorn.

"Go get some rest, it's late.  I'll talk to you soon.  Love you!"

"Love you too!  Goodnight, Princess Camelia!" Jasmine says, bringing the phone closer to her lips and kisses the screen. "Muwaaaah!" Her lips tripled in size, blurring altogether. "Be safe!"

Camelia smiles tenderly. They always used to pretend they were princesses growing up. Every once and a while the little girls in them resurfaced.

"Sweet dreams princess Jasmine."  Camelia shifts slightly, takes her phone to look at her sister and blows her a kiss.  Just before ending the call she hears her sister's chuckle.

Carrying the still hot pot, she places it in the sink and runs the cold water watching the steam rise and the overly heated base sizzle.  Satisfied, she washes her hands, dries them and grabs her phone before making it towards the stairs to her bedroom to change into something comfortable before Kent's arrival.

As she starts to climb the first steps the door bell rings.  Out of nowhere, faint tremors of fear began climbing up her spine.  No thanks to Jamsine's earlier words, her discomfort intensified as the the seeds of fear began to fill her mind.   Exhaling loudly she shook off the doubts, ignored her paranoia and turns around slowly.

"That has to be Kent."  She consoles herself. The smell of cooked popcorn drifted in the air as she strode across the foyer to the door.

Punching in the code to deactivate the security system she swiftly opens the door.   To her surprise she doesn't find anybody there.

She steps forward and stands outside.  Scanning the front entrance and looking into the distance she sees nothing out of place and nobody waiting around.  Camelia shivers, shakes her head in confusion, steps back into the house, closes the door and re-locks the bolt.

She thought she must of gone crazy and imagined it but she was sure the door bell rang.  Maybe it was one of the guards stationed outside and they changed their mind. Shaking her head to clear her jumbled thoughts she hurries up the stairs taking two steps at a time.

Her heart rate was racing and her neves were in overdrive.  She closes the door to her bedroom and locks it securely feeling even more anxious and trying desperately not to think the worst.

But the bad feeling growing inside her never dissipated.

Rushing into the connected bathroom she washes her hands and bends over the sink to begin splashing water on her face.  Straightening up and grabbing a nearby towel she gazes into the mirror.  The uncertainty reflected in her blue eyes.  Placing a hand over her stomach to calm her nerves she wipes her dripping face.

"It's just your overactive imagination.  Be calm."  She chants. It was the stress she reasoned silently.  It was catching up.  It had to be.

Turning away from the mirror she walks into her closet and finds black sweat pants and a plain white t-shirt.  Draping them over her arm she approaches her bed and gently lays them close to her phone which was thrown face down aimlessly on the covers.

She reaches for it and checks for any messages or missed calls.

Where was Kent?

With shaking hands she places her phone back on her bed and begins striping down until she was in her pink bra and matching panties.  Folding her clothing neatly, she slips on her sweatpants.  Her hair was down and in the way, deciding to pull it up in a bun she heads to her dresser to search for a elastic band and finds one easily in the drawer that held her hair accessories.

At that moment her phone rings.  She jumps in place and places a hand on her racing heart.  It was galloping so fast she thought it may burst out of her chest, hating how easily she startled.

"That has to be Kent."  Running towards her bed and laying on her stomach she swipes her phone to accept the call noticing it was a number she didn't recognize.

"Hello?"  She answers breathlessly.

"Camelia it's me Kivanç. How are you?"

She frowns. "Kivanç?"

He chuckles. "Yes it's me, were you expecting someone else?" He teases.

Camelia pauses and smiles ruefully. "No of course not. Kivanç it's so good to hear your voice. How are you?"

"I am well now that I've heard your voice. I hope it's not too late?" He asks.

"I was just changing as a matter of fact. It's still early evening here so no it's not too late. How's work?"

"Excellent...My work in Istanbul will detain me for some time yet. I am having to work out several issues concerning working permits in the U.S. to start filming. But enough about that...I cannot stop thinking about you." He confessed in the next instant. "I miss the taste of your sweet lips against mine."

Camelia flushed splaying her fingers over her eyes in embarrassment at a loss for words. Kivanç was always very open with his feelings. Memories of the tender kiss flashes before her eyes. It was sweet and refreshing and completely unexpected. How was she supposed to respond to his direct and intimate words?

"I don't expect you to say anything back Camelia. Again, I apologize if my straight forwardness makes you uncomfortable. I have a difficult time holding in what I feel around you. I must confess...My attention has never been captured by one single person like it has been by you."

He was more in tune with her feelings as if he were living in her head. It was astounding. She didn't realize men were that intuitive.

"I'm the one who should be sorry Kivanç. This is all very new to me. You are the first man I have ever kissed." She confesses turning as red as a rose.

"I am honored to be that man. I hope to be your last." He whispered seductively.

Camelia wanted to hide under her bedcovers and bury her virginal emotions. He was bold, more bold than she originally thought. The suave and experienced gentleman that Kivanç was diverted the conversation easily and they talked for about ten minutes more before they end the call.

Barely seconds passed before her phone rings again.  She checks the caller ID and frowns. It was an unknown number. Maybe that's Kent.

Don't answer, she told herself. But what if it was Kent and he's using another number? He carried two different phones after all and she assumed he used one for work and the other was a personal line.

That has to be him.

"Hello?"  She answers this time in way more control now that Kivanç soothed her haywire emotions with his sweet talking, helping her forget the dilemma plaguing her.

The sounds of heavy breathing floods the line.

Camelia froze.  The hair on her head raised as a chill swept from the top of her head down to her toes.

"Who is this?"  Her voice rising, clutching her phone in a death grip.  A sense of foreboding matched the dark night as she looked up frantically to stare unseeingly out the window across the room.

"Your worst nightmare little one."

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