Intrepid Hearts

11: Enemy's territory

ZIRA'S POV
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA.
15TH JANUARY, 2022.

There I stood, right in front of the enormous mansion. The opulent mansion, with its manicured gardens and imposing entryway was the epitome of an exclusive lifestyle I would have enjoyed and lived in if only my parents were alive. Of course my uncle is also wealthy, but isn't a fan of showing it off extravagantly unlike The Amir's.

Its garish gold-plated fixtures, neon-lit fountains, and over the top interior design screamed of tackiness and excess, rather than sophistication and refinement. Compared to the other, sleek and sophisticated mansions on the street, this one stood out ostentatiously as if it needed to one-up its neighbors at all costs.

The grandiose design of the mansion was a clear statement of its owner's taste for opulence and extravagance. More like most of the properties he stole from my family.

Shit is bound to get real if i get the job!

I was clasped in a black small T-shirt tucked into a pair of black pencil jeans. I topped the shirt with a brand new black leather jacket that stopped right below my buttocks. I was wearing my usual leather fingerless leather gloves with an Audemars Piguet watch around my wrist. My shades were intact as usual. The hair though never seems to change from it usual tight bun with a few strands out standing.

"They are all over there by the pool side." The security guard informed me before returning back to his post.

Pressing down on my knuckles and whispering a silent prayer, I slipped my hands into my pocket and moseyed towards the area where everyone was supposedly present. The moment I arrived at the pool area, all eyes were now fixated on the female specie that aroused so much confidence and fierceness from afar.

Of my advantage, my shades were still on. So I used the brief seconds I had before walking towards where they all stood, to analyse every single person that was present.

On the first Chaise lounge chair was the demon himself, Mahmud Amir. He looked the same though he's fifteen years older than he formally was, he still looked the same. Just a few wrinkles here and there but not much changes. Those brown set of eyes that glared at my parent's dying bodies before sauntering away were still the same.

By his left was, Medina Mahmud Amir. The female devil. It pissed me off that she was undeniably gorgeous in every sense there is. From her warm beige skin that glowed underneath the little to no sun, to her russet set of luminous eyes, her heart shaped sweet lips, and a beautifully shaped nose. She was wearing an emerald loose jumpsuit then topped it up with a tortilla colored ankle length over coat, then a pair of white pointed toe stilettos. A white chiffon hijab was draped around her face. Medina Mahmud was the definition of the perfect lady! She had the looks, fashion, wealth, power, tone, fake smiles, and over confidence.

If only I could drown her right inside the pool.

Standing next to her was the bitch from fifteen years ago, a younger version of Medina—-Sarah Mahmud Amir. The impudent, self centered, excessive, and unsympathetic bitch. She had her father's brown eyes and small nose. Sarah was dressed in a grey turtleneck top tucked into an ash sailor pants, over it was a beige ankle length coat as white pointed toe boots sheathed her feet. Her hair was covered with a white jersey scarf that was wrapped around her head in a low bun.

By the other side was her brother, the one that attempted flirting with me fifteen years back. Heck, I was just eight years old for crying out loud. A perv indeed. Mukhtar Mahmud Amir He was clad in brown polo shirt carefully tucked into a pair of carton colored khaki pants with black loafers. He resembled his father more than Sarah did.