Inked

Chapter 21

"Love does not die.. no it does not.
It only grows in pain"

Anonymous.

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10 years later..........

Photo shots were being taken from every corner as he walked through the crowd while they bombarded him with questions...

"Can we get an autograph? ...Can I have your signature sir?".

"Mr Asad do you ever smile?"...

"Sir please notice me"..

"Are you single sir?"...

'The paparazzi has started with their nonsense again'.. Asad thought as he walked to his car.

He was cladded in all black , from his leather jacket to jeans , t-shirt and shoes too then he topped it all with a pair of black shades to complement his almost pale skin. His dark hair was scattered on his temples down to the nape of his neck and his beard was neatly and nicely carved to give him that Arabian look.

He has been wearing all black after he decided to move on.

The color represented how he saw the world..

Dark and meaningless.

'We are all living corpse in a dead world'... he would often say.....

"Mr Asad , can we have a quote from you about how it feels like to be a celebrity and inherit your father's business?"... a female reporter asked as she placed a microphone close to his lips.

He parted his pink lips slightly and prepared himself to speak.

Meanwhile....

At Mr Ahmed's mansion.....

Nawal just finished baking shepherd's pie for Mr Ahmed and was about to dish it out for him when Maria came in.

"Hurry... Mr Ahmed has a meeting with an agent"... Maria stated.

Nawal nodded and quickly dished it out and placed it on a tray, then proceeded to give Mr Ahmad in the living room.

"Good day sir"... she greeted as she placed the food on the mini center table that was in front of him.

"My dearest cook"... he tore his gaze from the television and smiled as he looked at the shepherd's pie.

Nawal had gone for series of classes and become an excellent cook over the years.

She was now one of the best , he has every had.

"Mr Asad , can we have a quote from you about how it feels like to be a celebrity and inherit your father's business?"... she heard a feminine voice asked.

'Asad?'... she thought.

She quickly turned to see Asad in the 72 inch flat screen television cladded in all black with a microphone close to his lips.

"It is fine"... his reply was simply as he walked pass the reporter.

Nawal watched him intently and still felt a bang in her chest.

She was happy he was making it without her.

She is suppose to be right?

So why is the pain still there? She did not know.

"Mr Asad.. Sir wait we wa—"... more reporters followed him but he cut them off.

"Enough with these questions"... he stated and got into a black Mercedes Benz with tinted windows and then let the driver zoom off.