Filed To Story: Watch Out! She's a Mastermind Heiress (Isabella Patton) Book PDF Free
“She’s been the source of all this discord, Wesley. Once she’s gone, we can return, slowly but surely, to the way things used to be… when we were united, when there was love and loyalty.”
Her words were like venom, slowly seeping into Wesley’s mind. His gaze shifted from confusion to cold determination, his heart hardening.
“Alright,” he said quietly, his voice steady. “I understand.”
After the New Year holiday, life returned to its usual rhythm, and everyone resumed their routines. Isabella and Waylon immersed themselves in training for the international competition, which was set to take place in Aswil.
On the day of their departure, they gathered at Andrew’s private airport, but something felt off. After a long wait, their team captain still hadn’t arrived.
“That’s strange,” Waylon muttered, glancing at his watch. “He’s never late. He’s always the most punctual of all of us.” Minutes passed, and the tension grew with each tick of the clock. Waylon’s unease deepened, his brow furrowing as he exchanged concerned glances with the others.
Isabella, who had been engrossed in her phone, looked up with a serious expression. “I’m afraid something might have happened to the captain,” she announced.
“What? The HB Club is falling apart. How could something happen to our captain now?” Waylon’s voice broke through the tense silence, his frustration clear as he ran a hand through his hair.
Isabella looked up from her phone, her expression serious. “I checked his location. He’s at his hometown. Something might be wrong with his family.”
Just as she spoke, Waylon’s phone buzzed sharply. The captain’s name flashed on the screen. His heart raced as he answered.
“I’m so sorry, everyone.” The captain’s voice trembled, heavy with emotion. “My mom collapsed last night, and I’m the only one who can take care of her.” He hesitated, trying to steady himself. “I know the competition is coming up, and you might be upset with me for this, but… I have to go.”
The air felt thick with his struggle, the weight of his decision palpable.
Waylon felt a deep ache in his chest but spoke softly. “There will be other competitions, but you only get one mother. Take care of her.”
The captain let out a quiet sigh of relief, but before anyone could respond, his voice erupted with alarm. “Oh my God!” Waylon tensed. “What’s going on?”
“That person… that person is…” The captain stammered, utterly stunned, struggling to find the right words.
The captain steadied his hand, aiming his phone down the hospital hallway at a figure in the distance. Waylon leaned in, squinting at the screen, then froze in disbelief.
“Wait… is that Zahir?!”
Zahir was supposed to be dead. Could it be he’d merely been missing all this time?
Isabella and Andrew edged closer, their curiosity piqued. Andrew’s expression tightened as he recognized the man, his hands balling into fists at his sides, knuckles turning pale. Waylon instinctively moved the phone nearer to Andrew, eager to share in the moment.
On the screen, the captain cautiously approached Zahir, each step measured and deliberate. He reached out and gently tapped Zahir on the shoulder. When the man turned around, his face came into full view. It was unmistakably Zahir—alive.
“Who are you?” Zahir asked, his voice cold and distant. The captain’s excitement overflowed, words tumbling out. “Zahir… you…”
“Zahir?” The man’s brow furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. “Is that who you think I am?”
The man’s face twisted in bewilderment. He was clearly baffled by the name he had just heard.
Everyone stood frozen, trying to grasp what was happening. This was definitely Zahir, but he seemed to have forgotten who he was.
The captain leaned in, his voice steady. “What’s your name, then?”
“My name is…” The man hesitated, uncertainty flickering in his eyes.
He stared off into the distance, watching the clouds drift by as if searching for something lost. His name seemed to slip away, just out of reach.
Isabella observed him closely and spoke up. “Zahir has amnesia. He doesn’t remember.”
“Amnesia?” Andrew’s expression tightened with concern, his worry for Zahir evident.
The captain felt a wave of disbelief. It was like something out of a drama—Zahir hadn’t just disappeared; he had lost all memory of himself.
Determined to help, the captain lifted the phone higher. “Zahir, do you recognize this person?”
Zahir and Andrew had shared a strong friendship, a bond that felt unbreakable over the years.
When Zahir’s eyes fell on Andrew’s face on the screen, something stirred inside him, like a long-hidden memory trying to break free. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through his head, and he pressed his hands to his temples, seeking relief.
“Zahir, it’s me, Andrew,” came Andrew’s voice, rough but warm.
“Andrew…” Zahir whispered, the name echoing in his mind like a familiar song. It felt close, but he couldn’t quite connect it to a face.
Isabella said to the captain, urgency in her voice, “Captain, we need to arrange a ticket for Zahir to come see us.”
They could wait near the Klein family’s private airport; leaving in the evening would be fine.
The captain nodded, fully understanding the urgency of her request.
Even with his memory loss, Zahir felt an unexpected trust toward Andrew, a connection he couldn’t explain. Curiosity gnawed at him about the man who seemed to hold pieces of his past.
Isabella began searching for a nearby hospital where they could wait until Zahir arrived.
At three in the afternoon, Zahir stepped into the hospital, a mix of hope and uncertainty evident in his stance. Andrew’s eyes locked onto Zahir, glistening with unshed tears, the weight of their shared past hanging heavily in the air. Zahir met Andrew’s gaze, a strange feeling stirring within him.
“Do we know each other?” he asked softly.
“We do,” Andrew replied, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re alive; that’s amazing.”
Zahir’s brow furrowed as he tried to piece things together, but the memories remained out of reach.
“How long have you been dealing with this?” Isabella asked, concern etched on her face.
Zahir realized she was talking about his amnesia. “Since I woke up, I can’t remember anything from before.”
Isabella studied him intently. “Do you have any injuries?”
“I’ve received treatment in the hospital for years, and I’m almost fully recovered,” Zahir said, his tone more steady now.
“Come in,” Isabella said, motioning for Zahir to enter the hospital room, with Andrew close behind. Waylon wanted to follow, but Isabella gently closed the door, the soft click echoing in the quiet hallway.
Waylon felt like an outsider. He rubbed his nose, pondering what his sister hoped to achieve by this. Could Andrew really help Zahir recover his memories? If it were that simple, they wouldn’t need psychologists. He sensed Isabella was underestimating the situation. Yet a glimmer of hope flickered within him—maybe Zahir would regain his memories, and their team could still compete in the upcoming international tournament.
In the hospital room, Isabella gently encouraged Zahir to lie down on the bed. Zahir appeared tense at first, but he gradually relaxed as Andrew settled next to him.
Isabella spoke softly, guiding him. “Close your eyes. Let yourself relax completely. Feel each muscle loosen. Just listen to my voice and allow yourself to drift off to sleep…”
Isabella held a watch in her hand, the ticking sound filling the silence like a distant heartbeat. Zahir’s tense posture slowly relaxed, as if he’d drifted into a shadowy void, lost in aimless wandering.
A voice echoed from the darkness. “Do you remember what you love most?”
What did he love?
It felt like an eternity since he’d thought about that. The question swirled in his mind, leaving him utterly lost. Suddenly, a loud whoosh filled his ears, like something speeding down a track—fast as a bullet.
What was it?
A race car!
A beam of light tore through the darkness.
“Do you remember who your best friend is?” the voice asked again.
Did he even have a friend? For as long as he could remember, he had been alone, with no sense of where he came from or where life was taking him.
Somehow, the question tied to the first, sending a sharp pain through his head. Broken images flickered in his mind—a racetrack, a crash about to happen, his friend in danger.
Without hesitation, he lunged forward.
In the next instant, he was tumbling off a cliff.
The car hit the ground, and everything went black.
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
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