His Revenge

➺Chapter Nineteen

A/N: Please don't kill me.

➺Nineteen

Aaida lay curled up on the bed, silent tears flowing down her cheeks. Her bandaged hand pressed against her flat stomach and a sob escaped her lips. She could still hear Mustafa's cold words echoing in her ears.

"Because of your disobedience, Aaida, you lost your child. I told you not to say anything. If only you hadn't been so stupid."

Burying her face in her pillow, she cried softly. For three days now, that was all she had done. She couldn't move her body. Not only because she couldn't seek the willpower to but since she simply couldn't. Mustafa had ensured it.

Her other hand lay limply beside her and her legs were pulled up to her bruised chest. The only warmth she could find was her hair wrapped up around her.

"Miss?"

Aaida lifted her head slightly to see the redheaded maid at the door.

"I brought your medicine and food," the young woman offered gently.

Aaida didn't say anything. The maid closed the door and walked over to set the tray she held on the bedside table. She then carefully helped Aaida sit up. She couldn't lean her back against the headboard so the maid had to support her throughout. She undid Aaida's buttons and pulled the dress down just so her back was showing. Then, with gentle care, she began applying ointment to the belt wounds crisscrossing her back. There were long cuts and painful bruises where the buckle had struck her.

"I'm so sorry, Miss," she said, like she always did whenever she saw her injuries.

Aaida remained silent.

The maid worked quickly, first finishing with her back wounds before changing the bandages around the cuts on her right hand and leg. She finally finished with applying medicine to the purple bruises speckling her chest, caused when Aaida had hit the edge of a table, and then checked up on her broken left wrist.

"You're making a good recovery, Miss," the redhead offered. "Now, how about we have some soup so you can regain your energy, hm? The young master isn't home at the moment so I think we can sneak you out to the garden. Would you like that? A breath of fresh air?"

Aaida's watery blue eyes met hers and the maid's heart broke to see such raw pain and anguish. "Can I please be alone, Victoria?" Her voice was so hesitant, so quiet. As if afraid the maid would strike her if she spoke any louder.

"Of course, darling. Call me if you need anything.

But she knew she wouldn't. Aaida needed her husband and child. Neither of which she could get her.

To be polite though, Aaida nodded. With a small sigh, Victoria retreated from the room and left her in silence once more.

She was walking down the stairs when the phone rang. Picking up her skirt, she rushed towards it. She knew how irritated her master could grow if she didn't pick up the phone on time when he called.

"Hello?"

The voice that answered, however, wasn't her master's.

"Is this the Usman household?"

She frowned slightly, shifting her weight to one foot. "Yes, this is. Can I help you?"

"Are you the redheaded maid?"

Fear grasped her heart. "I am," she answered hesitantly.

"You have to help me. I'm . . . Zaeem. My wife-"