INTERTWINED

Relief washed over her the moment she saw who it was.

'Chris?'

She unlocked the door.

“Hi, Chris,” she greeted.

“Good evening, Skyler,” he replied smoothly.

“What are you doing here by this time? And how did you even know where I live?” she asked, her brows furrowed in curiosity.

“Oh, you didn’t show up for today’s shoot, so the director asked me to check on you,” he explained.

"Plus, I was in the neighborhood, so I figured I'd just kill two birds with one stone."

“Oh,” she murmured. “Come in, come in. Please take off your shoes at the door.”

They both chuckled as he complied, slipping them off before stepping inside. She shut the door behind him.

Chris’s gaze shifted towards Jason.

“And who’s this?”

“Oh, that’s my son, Jason,” she said.

Chris stiffened. “Son? You have a son?”

“And a daughter,” she added.

His brows shot up. “Wait, wait… you have kids?”

“They’re twins,” she clarified, amused at his shock.

“Twins? You actually have children? Oh my goodness.”

She shook her head with a small smile. “Not biologically. They’re my sister’s kids.”

Realisation dawned on Chris. “Oh…” He nodded, though something unreadable flickered in his expression.

“Why don’t you sit down? I’ll get you something to drink,” she offered.

“No, no, that’s fine.”

“I insist.”

“Okay, ma’am,” he teased.

Skyler laughed softly before heading to the kitchen.

Chris remained in the sitting room, taking in his surroundings. His eyes landed on a framed photograph in the hallway.

For a moment, his entire demeanour shifted. His jaw clenched. His expression darkened.

Then, just as quickly as it came, the change disappeared—like it had never been there at all.

Skyler returned with a glass and a bottle of water, catching the tail end of whatever expression had crossed his face.

“So… was the director upset?” she asked, almost nervously.

Chris scoffed. “Upset? He was pissed as hell.”

Skyler groaned, rubbing her temple. “I figured.”

Chris leaned back, watching her. “So, Miss Brooks, why didn’t you show up today? You know, without the main character, there is no movie.”

Skyler exhaled. “Some things have been going on recently… very recently. I just needed time to sort them out.”

Chris tilted his head. “Things? What kind of things?”

Skyler hesitated. “It’s nothing, really. I don’t want to bore you with my problems.”

“Sure, sure. No problem,” he said casually.

A small yawn interrupted them.

Jane emerged from her room, rubbing her eyes. “Aunty, I’m starving.”

She hadn’t noticed Chris yet.

Jason nudged her. “Wouldn’t you say hello to Uncle over here?”

Jane turned—and her entire body went still.

Jason frowned. “What’s wrong, Jane?”

Skyler noticed her sudden tension. “Jane?”

Jane slowly lifted a trembling finger, pointing directly at Chris.

Her voice was shaky. “That’s the creepy man who was staring at our house yesterday.”

A cold chill swept through Skyler’s body.

“What?” she whispered, dread settling in her chest.

She turned to the twins, her voice urgent. “Children, go to your room. Lock the door. Now!”

Jason grabbed Jane’s hand, and they bolted.

Skyler turned back to Chris, heart hammering against her ribs.

“Chris?” she stammered. “I don’t… I don’t understand. It can’t be, right?”

Chris let out a low chuckle.

“Oh, come on, don’t act clueless.”

His tone had changed.

Darker. Amused.

“I mean, you should have known something. At least you should have had a clue, right? You can’t be that dumb.”

Skyler’s fingers inched towards her phone.

Chris’s voice sliced through the air. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

She froze.

“You love Jane and Jason, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice sickeningly sweet and calm.

And then he laughed. A low, chilling sound.

“So, for their sake, I’d advise you not to try anything stupid right now.”

He exhaled, rolling his shoulders. “Now, sit down while I tell you a story.”

Skyler didn’t move.

Chris smirked. “Fine. I’ll tell you anyway.”

And then he began.

'A young woman. A young man. A promise of love.

The young man got the young woman pregnant but left her on the day the young lady was to give birth.

A betrayal. A secret engagement to another woman.

The young lady should have let the matter go, but instead she threatened to tell the media about the news and destroy the young man's career.

A car crash. A sister trapped inside. Flames consuming her.

It was the young man who rammed his car at full speed, into back of their car, which sent it veering off the road and into a tree.

The young lady's sister managed to crawl out of the car before the explosion.

And the young man?

He stood there. Watching.

Then, he walked away.

The end.'

Skyler’s breath hitched.

Chris leaned in closer, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

"And that young woman… was your sister, Amy."

Skyler felt the world tilt beneath her.

No. No, this isn’t happening.

Her breath came in short, uneven gasps as she stared at him, willing the words to be a lie. But the way he looked at her—the satisfaction in his smirk, the complete lack of remorse in his eyes—told her everything she needed to know.

Her knees threatened to buckle. Her stomach twisted painfully, and a deep, guttural ache settled in her chest.

Amy. Her sister. Gone. Because of him.

And Jane and Jason… Their mother had been murdered by the very man sitting in front of her.

Her hands clenched into fists. Her nails dug into her palms, grounding her against the storm of grief and rage swirling inside her.

She forced herself to meet his gaze, her voice shaking with barely restrained fury.

"And you are that young man?" she asked. But it wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

Chris smirked, his expression dark and unapologetic.

"Yes."

Rage flooded her veins.

“You didn’t just take her life,” she hissed. “You stole Jane and Jason’s mother. YOUR children’s mother!”

Chris sighed dramatically. “I thought you might start putting things together. That’s why I came here yesterday. To scare you a little, for fun.”

He shrugged.

“And that’s why I’m here now.”

Skyler’s blood ran cold.

“I can’t take any chances, Skyler. Not when it concerns my career that I suffered to build.”

Chris reached into his pocket.

He pulled out a knife.

And a gun, which already had a silencer.

“The knife would be painful,” he mused, tilting his head. “So, I’ll be nice. The gun should do.”

He smiled—a smile as wicked as the devil’s.

“Now, just lie down. Close your eyes. And I’ll make it quick.”