Chapter 30 Blushing
Zayd
Before I could even react with my fury, Liam’s hand clamped over my shoulder and pulled me toward the garage lounge.
His grip was firm but not restraining, he knew better than to coerce me.
“Zayd, calm down.”
I let him pull me inside, away from the wreckage and the gathering crowd of photographers and videographers who had already started swarming the crash site to take a picture.
The lounge was insulated from the outside noise.
Liam closed the door and turned to face me after taking a deep breath.
“Thank you. That could have been so much worse.”
I rolled my shoulders feeling a bit of cramp due to the crash.
“Make sure my face is blurred from all the pictures and videos they took out there,” I said instead.
“Already on it. I told the crew before we came here.” Liam ran a hand through his hair.
“Zayd, you kept him alive. The way you read that situation…”
“I did that for myself, I wasn't ready to die of course,” I cut him off in a flat voice.
I didn’t need praise or gratitude. I only needed to know if Amrah had eaten yet and if she felt better.
Liam studied me for a moment, then nodded. “Right. Well, I will be back”
I dropped into one of the leather chairs and pulled out my phone, immediately opening the messaging app. My fingers moved quickly across the screen.
Me: Did you eat? How are you feeling?
I stared at the screen, waiting. The three dots appeared almost immediately, and something in my chest loosened.
Amrah: Yes! Daphy brought me the most amazing salmon salad. I feel so much better and cramps are almost gone
Amrah: I’m actually in my study now, getting some work done. Thank you for asking (blushing emicon)
I read her message twice, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth as I stared at the emicon. She had eaten and was better.
That was all that mattered.
Me: Good. Don’t overwork yourself.
Amrah: I won’t. Actually… I wanted to tell you something. I haven’t told anyone yet.
My attention sharpened.
Amrah: There’s an architectural contest coming up between Minaret Towers and Minaret. My professor asked me to participate.
Amrah: I'm anxious because it feels crazy.
Something warm and unfamiliar settled in my chest. She was sharing this with me. Not her family, nor Khelani, her friend. Not even Chris.
But Me.
Me: It’s not crazy. You can do it.
You are very talented so don't doubt yourself.
Amrah: Thank you.
That means a lot coming from you.
Me: Rest early tonight.
I wanted to keep talking to her, to wanted to ask her more about the contest, about her designs, about anything and everything just to keep talking to her.
But I knew she needed to focus, and I didn’t want to be the reason she got distracted from something important.
Amrah: I will (blushing emicon)
I was about to put my phone away when the lounge door slammed open. Chris stormed in, still in his racing suit, face flushed with anger and frustration.
“This is your fault,” he bit out, pointing at me.
I looked up at him, expression blank. “What is?”
“The loss! The fucking accident!” His voice rose with each word.
“If you had come earlier as I asked, we would have had time for proper preparation and I wouldn’t have been so tense to make mistakes!”
I leaned back in my chair, completely unmoved. “You made mistakes because you didn’t listen. I told you to brake but you hesitated.”
“I hesitated because your timing was off!”
“My timing was right and your execution was shit,” I said it calmly, like I was commenting on the weather.
Chris’s face went red with rage, “You don’t get it, do you? This was important..”
“A promotional race that you turned into a clusterfuck because you couldn’t follow instructions.” I stood up glancing down at him from our subtle height difference.
“How about you think of what explanation to give your old man instead of blaming me.”
His jaw clenched so hard I could hear his teeth grinding.
“You don’t give a shit about anything, do you? Don’t fucking push me you bloody..!”
He stopped himself, but I could see it in his eyes. He wanted ‘ some orphan who had nothing and no one, who couldn’t possibly understand what it meant to have expectations and family pressure.
I almost laughed.
“Say it,” I challenged, my voice dangerously soft.
“Go ahead, Chris, say what you really want to say.”
Before he could respond, the door opened again.
Liam walked in, and something about his expression made both Chris and me turn toward him.
Liam looked… elated.
“Well,” he said, a smile breaking across his face.
“I just got off the phone with the marketing team. Despite the accident or maybe because of it, the three available Monts 0.5 got sold out.”
Chris blinked. “What?”
“Several racing companies loved the car. They saw its performance, how it handled at those speeds, and most importantly…”
Liam gestured at us, “…how unscathed both of you were even after that crash. The safety features alone sold them on it.”
Chris’s expression shifted from anger to something like relief. His shoulders dropped slightly, the tension bleeding out. “So… it wasn’t a complete disaster?”
“Not even close. Father will probably…”
Liam’s words were cut off by the sharp ring of Chris’s phone.
“Quell” Chris’s face went pale.
That wasn’t his father calling. That was his father’s personal assistant, which was somehow worse. It meant this was official.
“Put it on speaker,” Liam said quietly.
Chris’s hand shook slightly as he answered and tapped the speaker button.
“Christopher Montgomery.” The assistant’s voice was crisp and professional.
“Your father requests your presence at the estate immediately. He wishes to discuss this afternoon’s events.”
There was a pause.
“He also asked me to inform you that he’s already reviewed the footage.”
Chris closed his eyes. “Understood. I’ll be there within the hour.”
“He expects you in thirty minutes.”
The line went dead.
The silence in the lounge was suffocating. Chris stood frozen, still holding his phone, staring at nothing. He turned and walked out without another word, leaving Liam and me alone.
Liam sighed heavily and sank into the chair across from me. “This is going to be bad.”
I said nothing. It wasn’t my problem anyway.
My phone buzzed.
Amrah: I’m heading to bed now.
Thank you again for checking on me today.
Sleep well, Zayd.
I typed back quickly.
Me: You too.
I stood up, pocketing my phone, and walked toward the door, then paused. “Make sure those photos stay blurred.”
“They will,” Liam promised.
I left the garage, feeling giddy and full of adrenaline. Amrah had eaten and she was feeling better.
That was enough to make me giddy.