I knew that there was only one person who might have the answers and solutions to this mess: Julia.

I called her, even though it was late in her time zone. It was 11 p.m. at her place and midnight at mine. I had caught a fever from being drenched in the cold rain the previous day.

But Julia didn't answer her phone. Worried, I sent her a message on social media, but she was missing there as well. My concern grew stronger as I began to wonder if she was okay.

The next day, I received a message from Mila. She informed me that Julia was alright, but her mother had suffered a stroke, and she was in Naples taking care of her.

Shit! I mumbled. I couldn't text her about all these dramas. She would take sides with her friend, just like she did previously.

I kept pushing through my duties despite having a fever. One night, it spiked to 103°F. I was so exhausted and hungry that I even forgot to order food for myself that night. My supervisor finally forced me to take sick leave.

I don't remember much, but at some point during the night, a rush of sweat washed over me, and miraculously, my fever broke. I was so fatigued that I couldn't recall whether I had dreamt of ordering food online or if I had actually done so. My brain was clouded, and I had been running on an empty stomach for days. I had lost a significant amount of weight.

Then, at 2 a.m., I heard the doorbell ring. I sat up straight, puzzled. I cautiously approached the door and peered through the peephole, spotting a delivery boy on the other side.

Who the fuck was he?

He told me he had an order for food for me. Without thinking I took them inside. I had not eaten anything for a whole day. When I went to pay, he said it had already been paid when I ordered.

All these were Italian foods. Pizza, Pasta, lasagna, Tiramisu......

I ate like an ape, then I realized I didn't place any order for food as I checked my phone. Though I opened the app, the food remained unordered as I failed to check out my order cart.

Shit! shit! shit! I might have been poisoned.

I retched into the toilet bowl, forcing my finger down my throat to induce vomiting. It was a vile experience, and I gagged uncontrollably. Afterward, I quickly downed a thick mixture of charcoal powder and water-like juice, which is often used as an antidote for poisoning. I then called my supervisor to inform them that I suspected I might have been poisoned.

My supervisor began to panic and immediately called for an ambulance. I was rushed to the hospital, where they performed gastric lavage to clear my stomach contents and sent a sample of the food I had consumed to the lab for a poison check.

To my relief, the poison test came back negative. It seemed that the food I had eaten was innocent. I stayed in the hospital for a few days as they treated me for my viral fever. I was finally discharged on the fifth day, and my supervisor at the NHS was kind enough to grant me an additional three days of sick leave to recover.

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One night, out of curiosity, I decided to peek outside through my window. The clock was almost midnight, and the world outside was mostly dark, with only a few apartment lights dimly glowing.

Suddenly, a sleek, black BMW pulled up silently in front of my building. It was a quiet and eerie arrival, making no noise. Two men stepped out of the car, both dressed in dark suits and wearing sunglasses. They moved with purpose and immediately locked eyes with me through my third-floor window.

I let out a surprised gasp, causing my windows to shake. The two men exchanged a quick but intense look, as if they had made an unexpected mistake. They heard my gasp even from such a distance.

A rush of chills went down my spine, and a foreboding, pulsating feeling throbbed in my head. Every hair on my body stood on end as fear took hold of me.

Run. My brain commanded.

In a hurry, I quickly checked all the windows in my apartment, making sure they were tightly locked. I paid extra attention to the door, securing it firmly and placing two chairs in front of it as an added barrier. I thought that if anyone tried to break in, my vigilant neighbors would surely hear. Armed with the biggest knife from my kitchen, I strengthened my bedroom door even more.

With caution, I pulled back the curtains on my windows to find that the menacing men and their BMW had disappeared into the night. Sleep was out of the question, and I spent restless hours thinking about my next steps.

The next morning, my top priority was to improve the security in my apartment. I set up motion sensors throughout the place, installed a robust alarm system, and connected everything to my smartphone. Any unauthorized entry would instantly trigger an alert, and law enforcement would be notified without me having to call the emergency number.

While getting rid of the packaging for the motion sensors, something on the back of one box caught my attention—a small seal in the lower right corner.

The emblem was unmistakable—the Volkner emblem. A lion's head adorned with hawk's wings as its mane, and a star on its forehead stared back at me.

This security product, designed to make me safer, was ironically linked to the Volkner enterprise. It was promoted as the most advanced and expensive security system available, setting me back a whopping 400 quid. It was a bizarre turn of events; had I unintentionally placed my safety in the hands of the very organization I might be trying to escape?

I could not help but wonder: Was I a lamb in a land of predators, or had I unwittingly become the hunter, with these mysterious individuals as my potential prey?

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Paranoia had a tight hold on my life. Each day, as I walked to work, I couldn't help but notice groups of men, all dressed in black suits, seemingly watching my every move. The sensation of being observed and trailed had become my daily reality.

My daily commute was marred by the constant presence of a black car following me from home to work and back again. My fear of being poisoned had led me to rely on ordering food online, but I couldn't shake the persistent suspicion that someone might tamper with my meals.

The unrelenting anxiety was slowly pushing me to my limit. Nights were plagued by insomnia, and the exhaustion began affecting my work. I even fainted once in the operating theater, a terrifying incident that served as a grim reminder of the seriousness of my situation.

I was a mess, a fucking mess...

Reluctantly, I agreed to go through a psychiatric evaluation, dreading that it might put my career as a surgeon in jeopardy. I had begged Scott not to take this step, but he reassured me that his concern was solely for my well-being and that he wouldn't do anything to harm my professional portfolio as a future Surgeon.

Thankfully, the psychiatrist assigned to my case turned out to be an old friend from our days in Chester. I opened up to her about the overwhelming paranoia and anxiety that had taken over my life. However, I decided to keep two significant secrets hidden: my history of molestation and my involvement in troubling activities. These were wounds too deep to share, even with a trusted friend.

"Did you talk to anyone to solve this stalking issue?" she asked.

Shit, I forgot! Julia! Julia might have a solution.

I opened up my phone and saw a million notifications from her. My heart sank. Was she alright? I immediately dialed back at her. I was feeling guilty for leaving my phone intended.

"Kaya! Where are you? I'm at the airport!"

Shit I forgot, I was supposed to host her for a few days.

"Are you in London now?" I asked.

"No still at Milan, my flight will be within 30 minutes!"

Shit! My apartment was a mess.

"Julia, do I need to pick you up or you can hitch a taxi?"

"British Airways Chauffeur will drop me off if you give me your address." She replied.

I texted her my address.

"Sorry, I have to go. I have a guest coming." I forgot that I was sitting in front of my psychiatrist. She sighed and typed my medicine.

All these were mood stabilizers.

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I peered through the peephole of my front door when I heard the doorbell ring and saw Julia standing outside. I quickly unlocked the various locks and welcomed her inside.

"Cara Mia!" Her endearing greeting instantly lifted some of the weight of the past two weeks of paranoia. We hugged tightly, seeking comfort in each other's embrace.

"Did anyone follow you?" I asked, my anxiety still lingering.

Julia gave me a thorough once-over, examining my face, my body, my hair, and my clothes. Then she let out an audible gasp.

"What's wrong, baby?" she exclaimed, her concern evident. She began gently rubbing my head as if trying to tame my unruly South Asian hair.

I was a mess, and Julia could see it. She guided me to sit down, offering words of comfort and understanding. Once I had composed myself, I helped her with her luggage, and we settled in for a long-overdue catch-up. It was already evening, and despite Julia's offer to take me out for dinner, I hadn't ventured beyond the walls of my home or the hospital for the past two weeks.

As I served Julia dinner, I recounted the entire series of events, holding nothing back. Her expression shifted as she connected the dots, and I could tell she had a clear understanding of the situation. Still, I decided to ask her directly.

"Do you have any idea who this could be? You know a lot of powerful people who visit your hotel. It seemed like one of their messes." I placed a slice of roasted veal onto her plate. Our dinner table was set up in a semi-romantic manner for two friends, with candles flickering in the center.

She glanced at me, then lowered her gaze to the plate, absently toying with her fork among the roasted asparagus. The candlelight danced in her dark pupils as she replied with a shake of her head.

Oh, I knew she would do this. She knew who was behind all this stalking.

"Can you solve it?" I asked her, begged her.

Julia looked at me with a helpless expression, fully aware that I had pieced together what was happening.

"Let me investigate," she offered, her eyes filled with concern.

I didn't voice any objections. I was beyond tired, fed up with this cat-and-mouse game. It didn't matter to me who was behind all of this—whether it was the Volkners or the mysterious individuals from the hotel. I just wanted this so-called romantic stalking to end. What might seem thrilling in books was terrifying and unsettling in real life.

My apartment was small, with only one bed, so I had Julia share it with me. It was spacious enough for three people, so we settled in and talked throughout the night about various topics—Julia's relationship with her boyfriend David, how serious they had become, updates on Julia's mother, and more.

I must have drifted off to sleep during our conversation because when I woke up, Julia was nowhere to be found. Not in the bathroom, not in the living room.

I heard a muffled argument coming from the balcony. Julia was yelling at someone. My curiosity got the best of me, and I decided to discreetly peek through the curtains.

"No! This won't work! You are scaring her for her life, Goddammit!" Julia's voice rang out, laced with frustration. There was a reply from the other end, but I couldn't hear what was being said.

"Please, for the love of God, stop it! This won't work like this! I know her! She is so paranoid! She lost half of her weight!" Julia pleaded, waiting for a response from the person on the other end.

"No! Listen to me! If you want this to work, you have to listen to me! The way I know her, you don't know that! Trust me!" Julia murmured into her phone.

That meant it was the same guy who had sent me flowers, the same person who thought he could woo me with his gestures. Anger coursed through my veins, and I was sure my head felt like it was on fire.

I stepped onto the balcony and peered over Julia's shoulder like a predator ready to strike. In a voice that didn't sound like my own, I hissed softly into her other ear, "Give me the phone. I want to talk to him." My voice was filled with rage, and I barely recognized myself.

Julia jumped, startled by my sudden appearance and the intensity in my voice. She turned to face me, her eyes wide with fear, like a deer caught in headlights.

"Kaya, go to sleep," she ordered, her voice trembling.

"You won't give me the phone?" I muttered, a sinister smile playing on my lips. I felt like a hunter closing in on her prey.

"No," she replied, her eyes still filled with fear. Was she afraid of him? Or was she afraid of me? She should be.

Julia might be scared of him, but I was seething with fury.

"Then tell him that when I see him, I'll fucking kill him and feed his body to the dogs," I said, my voice now unrecognizable, filled with a chilling intensity.

Julia's face contorted with disbelief at my words. "What?" she whispered in shock.

Perhaps the person on the other end had heard me. The phone's speaker wasn't on, but the earpiece was loud enough that I heard hysterical laughter coming from it.

Sir, don't you believe me? Fine. I'd relish the sight of you choking on your own blood. He had no idea what I was capable of.

I turned away from the balcony and told Julia, "Tell him to go fuck himself when you say goodbye."

Without waiting for any response, from Julia or the person on the other end, I headed to bed. My brain was too exhausted to process this madness.

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Julia's one-week visit to London surprisingly went smoothly. That day, when I woke up, both of us consciously avoided talking about the stalking matter.

We explored Covent Garden, Borough Market, Camden, and many more places. Even though she was busy with her recruitment training at the London branch of Hotel Caelus, she managed to spend quality time with me. Julia was giving training to new recruits for a week, using her extensive experience as one of the oldest employees at the Caelus chain.

Julia's next destination was Ireland, and she was scheduled to leave the following afternoon. After finishing my day shift at the hospital, I took her to a local pub that also served great food.

Julia ordered gin and whiskey, while I enjoyed my virgin Pina Colada.

"You don't drink 'cause you're a doctor?" she asked me.

"No, I don't drink because I was raised as Muslim and even if I was not religious, I wouldn't like alcohol. I hate the vinegary taste of it. I prefer cola a lot. And these virgin juices, Lol." I admitted.

"You're religious!" Julia was so shocked to hear that.

"Not exactly, but I enjoy a few parts of it. It keeps me sane." I admitted. I wish she knew what I meant.

"Good, Good. So, you always wanted to be a doctor?" she asked. We were in the bar on the 2nd floor but as we ordered food, we left for the restaurant that was downstairs.

"No, I was chasing someone," I spoke the truth.

"Wait, what? Who?" she stopped my way.

"A boy." I smiled at her.

"A boy? Did you chase a boy? A Boy?" Julia was livid. I started to giggle. I pressed her shoulders and sat her in our designated seating area.

"Tell me everything. What happened?" she begged. Servers served us our entrees.

"Well, there was a boy, a year Senior I really liked in school. He was handsome, a football captain, school prefect. Then he left college, so I got admitted to his college after a year of school. I always wanted him to notice me, but he didn't like any girl other than his high-school sweetheart. But, when he got admitted to medical college, they broke up." I said, cutting my baked brie for a small sandwich.

"Oh God, then?"

"So, after passing College, I studied hard to get a chance at medical admission, but I got somewhere better than his college, I applied for the College change and my application was approved. I moved out of my hell house, moved out of Dhaka- the capital. And joined him in his medical. As I was his junior he was always there as a senior. And I fell in love with him. I thought he loved me. He was very strict and religious and a perfectionist. He never tried to touch me once, at all." I continued.

"Oh, how sweet," she admitted. I laughed at her.

"You know, I made the biggest mistake of my life telling him my stories." I finished my entrée.

"Why?" Julia was worried.

"He broke off with me. Telling me that I was impure and that no man would ever truly love someone like me. Everyone would be with me just to sexually exploit me. So, I will never be a good choice for anyone to wife me, at all!" I spoke. Julia's eyes were about to pop out of the socket.

Servers served us fish and chips. Another London staple than butter chicken. I make better butter chicken than the restaurants.

"He is a cunt!" Julia was disgusted.

"What he said was true from Bangladesh's or the whole South Asian region's point of view...... Nobody honors a woman in those countries who has been raped." I replied. Smooth jazz music floated in the air. It could not soothe my broken Bangladeshi heart.

"......Somehow the whole campus knew that I was not a virgin. I was impure. Some consoled me. Others called me slut behind my back." I added with a smile.

"You left a shit show behind, Kaya." She spoke. Her main course was untouched. I signed her to eat.

"I left that whole mess the day I finished my internship. I took my first job in the Maldives. The living conditions were simple, but the pay was great. I worked there for a year, then passed the British licensing exam. I came to England three years ago and applied for permanent residency. I've never looked back since. Within two years, I hope to become a British citizen," I explained.

Julia probed further, asking if I ever returned home. I hesitated for a moment before responding, "Home? I have no home."

Julia's expression shifted as she grasped the implications of my words. She understood that my own parents had essentially abandoned me to protect themselves.

To change the subject, we delved into various topics. Julia seemed casually interested in my dating life, and I admitted that I was not seeing or dating anyone at the moment. Then, I surprised her by expressing an interesting thing,

"Julia, I want to meet with Maria Volkner. Can you manage it?"

Julia's reaction was nothing short of astonishment, and her mouth hung open in disbelief. She was speechless, clearly taken aback by my request.

"All I can do is send a message." She spoke. I smiled at her.

"If you somehow get married to David, you will be Maria's cousin-in-law. You will be in a very powerful position in Caelus." I spoke.

"Doesn't matter. Maria keeps her relatives, business, and family separated from each other." She said.

"Really? What was her base? What did she do before marrying Royce and taking over some Volkner businesses?" I was again curious.

"She was in the Italian Navy, then she worked for the CIA a few years before joining Royce's security team," Julia spoke.

CIA! NAVY!

OH MY GOD.

"How old is she?"

"Maybe 56 or 57. I don't know exactly."

"Shut up! Maria looked younger than you!" I screamed. Everyone around us looked at me. Julia shushed me.

"Don't talk about her in public," Julia spoke under her breath. I was livid. I need to meet this woman anyhow.

Julia kept eating as if I was not there. I knew why. She thought we had been stalked.

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As Julia prepared to bid me goodbye the next morning, I was getting ready for my evening shift at the hospital. Her car would drop me off at work on its way to Heathrow Airport. She embraced me tightly, apologizing for the disturbing events I had experienced.

"Mia Amore, I'm truly sorry for whatever unsettling things have happened to you," she admitted, her words carrying a sense of genuine concern. However, a tinge of sadness washed over me. It seemed that she valued her friendship with a rich old man more than her friendship with me. Perhaps he held greater importance in her life than I did. My expression must have betrayed my feelings, as Julia read my eyes and reassured me.

"These people won't bother you, ever. I promise. I swear in the name of Jesus. They will never harm you," she declared, clutching the cross hanging from her neck as she spoke.

I nodded, placing my trust in her. I didn't fully understand why, but there was something about Julia that made me trust her.

As Julia's car departed, leaving me behind, I couldn't help but watch it until it disappeared from sight. It was a chauffeur-driven vehicle provided by British Airways. Then, a thought struck me. Julia had access to a similar facility, and given her position as one of the top trainers in her hotel chain, she occasionally needed to train new recruits. That's why she had come to London. 

It appeared that this facility was a perk of her employment.

I hurried to my office and turned on the computer used for writing prescriptions and case studies. I quickly Googled "Partners of British Airways." The search results displayed various companies that had invested in and partnered with the airline, and beneath that information, I saw a collection of logos representing these companies.

Among them, I spotted the unmistakable Volkner emblem, accompanied by the heading "Volkner Enterprise - Partner and Investor." A sinking feeling gripped my heart, and I realized that Professor Scott had been right. I was not meant to have access to all the privileges and amenities I had enjoyed when I arrived in London; they had been a gift from the Volkner family.

It hit me like a ton of bricks. 

Maria Volkner and her people might have been behind the stalking, gathering my information, and making sure I knew they were watching me. I had always feared men, but I had felt a different kind of power when I was around strong women. It was as if I could either conquer the world or set it ablaze. 

Women like Maria had always inspired the Little Kaya in me.

A smile slowly crept across my face. I had been foolish to let fear get the better of me. 

Maria had seen through all the layers of protection I had built around myself. She had looked straight into my soul and knew exactly what I was capable of. She had learned everything about me.

Everything.

At that moment I knew that I was going to be friends with Maria Volkner.