The auditorium was filled with students after our school's annual cultural ceremony. There was an important announcement to be made by our school principal.

Everyone kept their fingers crossed on what's the important news they were to hear in such a short notice. I already know the news but I'm not the one to disclose.

I'm James Marshal, an introvert , boringly studious and a school captain for the senior volleyball team.

A few among my friends came rushing to me after sneaking out for snacking at the college cafeteria. "Hi James, what do you think the old man wants to lecture us with this time?"

I only smile at my best friend Sherlock and look ahead. The principal enters the stage in his neatly gelled gray hair and polished black suit. "Good afternoon, dear students. I know all of you are speculating on the news I am going to expose but I wouldn't keep you waiting. Yes, the results of our school literary topper are out. Any guesses?"

Everyone in the hall began to gossip and some were shouting my name. "Yes you are right." His breaths were excited. "The literary topper for the academic year 2015-16 is Adrian James Marshal."

Everyone begins to clap and whisper congratulations to me. I reach the stage shaking hands with a few fellow students on my way. The principal pats my shoulder a look of appreciation in his experienced eyes. He gives me a firm handshake and hands over the trophy to me. My fingers run admiring the beautiful copper shield and eyes twinkle in happiness looking down at the crowd cheering for me. It was my biggest moment of joy, my achievement and the reward for my hard work from the last two years.

Unlike all my friends and classmates hailing from opulent families I did not have the power of money to rank an admission in St Xavier's. I am a middle class boy who worked night and day for the best grades and attained what I'm today.

My father left this world when I was less than two. My mother works two jobs a day as a waitress in a restaurant in the evening and serves as a billing assistant in a grocery shop during the morning shift to place food on our dining table.

My only aim in my life is one day become a popular man, earn millions and free my mother from all the struggles she encountered in her life to bring me up.

As I walk down the stage with the trophy in my hand the girl most awaited and the one who stole my every dream comes forward and hugs me tight. "Congratulations James" Amaira whispers and kisses my cheek.

Goosebumps invaded my system as I experienced the touch of her lips on my skin. The crowd acclaims and claps for us as we escape to the back of the stage.

"Hi James I felt very happy for your achievement. I'm very lucky to have you as my friend. I wish one day to become like you and make my parents proud." She beams to me in admiration. "You are two years younger to me and have time to prepare and win the literary trophy. Don't worry I will prepare you well even after I pass out from the school." I assure Amaira and get each of us a chocolate muffin from the cafeteria.

As promised I coached Amaira in all the subjects and helped her achieve good grades. "I will pay you the fees for teaching me." She insisted. "It will help you earn a few days of meals instead of suffering from hunger." I felt very sad for her words but brushed my thoughts away. Amaira is my girlfriend. She would only think good about me and in a way tried to help me but I wouldn't take any fees from her. I continued to teach her for the next two years and helped her fetch good grades.

Six months later,

It was the final day of school, the day of school prom. It was also the day I decided to make Amaira officially my girlfriend though it would be a surprise for her.

I was dressed a black tuxedo. The prom dance was about to start. The stage was beautifully decorated with roses, lilies and several colorful lights. My fingers were trembling in anxiety as I walked to the center of the stage with my hand dipped in my pants pocket, holding the blue rectangular box in my fingers.

My friend Sherlock called Amaira to the stage. She was dressed in an ankle length turquoise color gown that hugged her curves in the right places. Amaira is my first love, first kiss and my first in everything.

She looked very beautiful and immaculate like a fallen Angel in the rich attire. The color of the gown reflecting her eye color made her explicit and gorgeous from the usual crowd of girls. All the students were clapping for us as Amaira walked to the stage because they already knew what was about to happen.

Some of my friends tried to teach me tales about Amaira's disloyalty to me but I'm intelligent enough not to believe such gossip. My angel is as pure as the holy cross.

She was standing in front of me. The crowd coos for us as I gave her the rose and dropped on my knee to hold out the promise ring for her. "Amaira, will you grace me on this special occasion to be my girlfriend and future wife?" I asked her in expectancy with anticipation in my eyes and a full blown smile on my lips.

My ears recorded a roar of laughter at the next second but my eyes weren't ready to believe on what's happening in front of me. "Amaira what happened to you? Are you okay?" I ask her in a stupor about to reach her hand. She evaded my touch moving behind, held her head back and laughed.

A handsome young man walks to the stage in the next second. "How could you even imagine that a wealthy girl from a powerful family like me would marry a beggar like you? I just used you to attain good grades James Marshal." She speaks arrogantly between her chuckles. The crowd started murmuring, some smiled conceited and others gazed at me with pitiful looks.

Sherlock walks behind and pats on my back trying to ease me. "What you have done is a blunder. A day will come when you will pay for this." He cautions Amaira but she doesn't seem to care in the least.

"Look at that shabby suit Marcus," she snickers and turns to the side to look at the man standing beside her. "You should have taken your tutoring fees from me James, tsk...tsk." She gives a deplored look. "At least you would have purchased a suit worth wearing instead of using this rag." She points to my dress in a condemnation.

Marcus gives me a look of disgust with a shake of his head and holds Amaira's hand. After taking two steps forward he stops and turns back. "Don't dare to look at my girl ever again." He warns in a menacingly low growl with a finger pointed to me and walks away from the stage.

I blink twice, thrice but nothing registered in my brain. I was still on my knee with my hand extended holding the ring in the box. Sherlock gets behind patting my shoulder and helping me to stand.

"She...she" I pointed to Sherlock Amaira's departing form but no words further pulled out except the tears in my eyes washing out in streams out of my cheeks.

"Hold up those stupid tears, you are born a man and supposed to be bold, decisive." Sherlock admonished. "You would stay intrepid, undaunted and teach the bitch a lesson. Promise me that today." He spoke determinedly hypnotizing me by his gutsy gray pools and I took the pledge.

I will destroy you Amaira Witmore to a state of no retrieval. This is the vow of a wounded anthropoid who resolves treachery better than a nature's fury.

Adrian

After Amaira's exposition of her true colors and her heartbreaking words my world collapsed. The only girl I loved with all my heart had betrayed me, broke my heart to pieces without a care. I felt used, deprived and most of all cheated.

The moment I reached outside the auditorium I broke to a ground wrecking yowl but unlike Amaira Sherlock did not abandon me. He was there beside me when I required him the most. With his words of inspiration I recollected myself.

By the time I left his house, it was dark. Mom had called me twice anxious about my whereabouts. After my school I work a part time job as an accountant in a nearby financial agency. Though the earning is not much, it takes care of my tuition fees and purchase of my school books but I was not in the right state of mind to work that day. I called the office and reported that I was sick.

When mom called I did not tell her about what happened at the school auditorium. She already had enough on her platter. I did not want to disturb her with more. I told her I was staying at Sherlock's to celebrate the school graduation and took leave from work for the day.

After having my dinner I was walking back to my house. It was dark and a little drizzling. I was slightly drunk because of the mess that happened a few hours ago. I did not see the vehicle approaching me at a record speed from the opposite side. In a sprinting motion the car hit me and my body flew upon the Lamborghini. My head bolted to the car's windshield like a pummel. Blood rushed out of my form setting in small puddles and then everything went blank.

******

I opened my eyes to white painted walls and sky blue curtains. The smell of disinfectants wafted in the air as I inhaled deep. "Son, how are you?" A middle aged man with black rimmed glasses and a gray beard comes forward. He held my upper arm in affection and looked at me in fondness. I look at him in a puzzle unable to understand his referral. The last time I checked about my existence, I knew my father was dead when I was two and my mother brought me up with a lot of pain and effort.

I fell in love with a worthless piece of shit. She betrayed me and insulted my love in front of everyone in the school. I was walking back to my house fragmented to bits affected by the havoc the bitch initiated in my life when suddenly a car flew upon me like a plane out of nowhere. Everything happened in a blur and the next moment I opened my eyes, I was resting in a hospital in the company of a stranger who was thankfully friendly and caring.

I looked around the hospital room in search of my mom who is everything in my life but she was found nowhere. Panic started to engulf my system worried about her. She is the only woman who can do anything to keep me happy and in return expect nothing. Instead I find another middle aged lady approaching me anxious. "Son, are you not feeling well?" She asked me tenderly in an angelic voice. Her soft hands reach my forehead pushing away the falling hairs on my face to check my temperature. She had the most pleasing icy blue eyes oozing out motherly affection. Her chestnut hair was neatly held in a pony. Something incites in me to hug her and feel the love of a mother bringing out the little boy in me.

The man who stood beside her begins to speak. "I'm Augustus Martin, a famous businessman and billionaire of New York and she is my wife Angelica. We have an ancestral home at Hudson and we were on our way to our home when we found you half dead and unconscious lying on the road in a pool of blood. I stopped my car and brought you to the hospital." The man says slightly restrained in his voice.

I slowly reach the hand of the patriarch in thankfulness. He pats my shoulder in assurance and continues. "Your case was serious and there were no multi speciality hospitals in your town. So after the initial treatment, I brought you back with me to New York getting you the treatment in one of the famous hospitals our family owns. My son is a doctor and he has been treating you for a while." There was a look of pride in his eyes, when he spoke about his son.

"Since how many days have I been staying here?" The man shared a look with his wife and there went on a nonverbal communication between them for a few seconds. Within the short span that I happened to stay in their company, I understood they were a perfectly compatible and most compassionate couple I had hardly seen in my life.

Love doesn't need a language. The most intense emotions are actually speechless communicated with the eyes and end in the heart but whores like Amaira Witmore can't experience such potent emotions even in their next birth unfortunately these words about her I was too late to understand.

He did not answer me directly but continued on with his narration. "After giving you treatment for more than six months with no improvement in your curative history, the medical fraternity lost hope in you but my benevolent wife wouldn't give up. Every day after finishing her responsibilities at home it became her routine to come to the hospital and nurse you. She loves you like our own son." He admits with wetness in his eyes bringing his wife into his arms. "Finally Angelica's prayers, her selfless service, her determination in the heart to see you hale and healthy by any means has paid off. You are now fit and fine except for...." He trailed off.

The door clicked open and a man in a white coat who had similar features to Mr Martin walked inside. "Hello I am Allesandro Martin, your physician who has been treating you for the last sixteen months. How are you feeling?" So my illusions were right, he is Mr Martin's son - the doctor who had been treating me all this while.

I extend my hand for him to hold. "I'm good. Thank you for treating me." The doctor examined me and reached the exit. Augustus and Angelica walked out along with him leaving me in my own world for a few minutes. Everything around me became confused. Who are these people? Why are they helping me so much for no reason? Where is my mother? Does she know I am still alive?

After he walks inside the room, I persuade him to speak from where he halted. "Except for?" Augustus looked suddenly tired and worn out. He walks to the washroom and brings me a mirror. Blood drained out of my body as I looked at the man staring at me through the glass. I looked at Augustus with questioning eyes. He nods as he answers my question. "It is not days or months soon, it has been more than a year since you are in the hospital." Your face was reduced to a pulp with no trace of your original form. You had five broken ribs, two major fractures in your elbow and right knee and a severe head injury because of which you stayed in comatose for the last sixteen months. It was a miracle and expertise on our team of doctors that we could bring you back to the world and save your memory but I'm sorry we couldn't retain your identity.

You are a different man now with disparate features. Consider it as a blessing in disguise. None of your enemies would recognize you. I am sorry to say this but I wonder if the catastrophe that took place in your life was actually an accident? According to me it was a well planned murder." I began to connect the dots in my head and everything became crystal clear. If not for this humane couple I would have stroked the gates of heaven long back.

Amaira's father is an underworld business tycoon. She told me a couple of times that her dad had found out about our relationship and wasn't happy with her decision. I received threats from his goons but turned a deaf ear to their wispy warnings. Nevertheless it is now too late to understand their injunctions weren't empty. They were truly serious. Little did Amir's father know that his daughter had no intentions in seeing the future of this relationship but now the damage is already done and I'm not going to hang loose.

I have resolved to myself, I will teach Amaira Witmore and her bastard father a lesson they will remember all their lives.

Adrian

Ten years later

After I came out of hospital Augustus adopted me and financed my studies. With determination and hard work I finished my education completing masters in my favorite subject business analytics.

Mom had almost gone insane finding no information about me but when she came to know about my whereabouts, her happiness had no boundaries. She thanked the Martins whole heartedly and now the Martin's house is like my second home. Augustus handed over all his businesses in New York and overseas to me after introducing me as his legal heir.

I walk through the foyer to the entrance of the Martin's house holding a bouquet of yellow roses. "Happy birthday mom" bending down. I kiss the cheeks of Angelica, truly an Angel like her name says who gave rebirth to me in this world by her selfless care, humanity, patience and became a second mother to me. "The roses are beautiful. Thank you." She speaks with love and hugs me.

In the midst of laughter and giggles the lunch was served. I eyed the fish fingers in haste. Mom arrested my eyes with hers in a warning tilting her index finger. "Those are not for you." She tells me in a voice only I can hear and serves me fresh green salad she prepared specially for me. She is always worried about my health and keeps an eye on what I eat because I still have to avoid certain foodstuffs concerning my health. Dad had a taunting snicker adorned on his rims. I was thankful his vision wasn't directed to me though nothing goes unnoticed from his experienced eyes.

Abigail came home for mom's birthday two days ago, canceling her teacher's seminar. Abigail is a teacher. She loves kids and has chosen the profession matching her tastes. Her husband Devon is a professional guitarist. He will be joining us in the evening for dinner as he had a performance in the afternoon. I learnt playing guitar from him for the love I uphold for music.

Alessandro was present for the lunch along with his wife Edith, the daughter of Allen and Arianna Rodriguez. They had been childhood sweethearts since primary school and are married three years from now. Edith is seven months pregnant with their first baby.

"Hey man, how is life going?" Alessandro asked once we were out of the dining area after lunch. "Sweet and hot" I reply to him with a wink but in a whisper that only he can hear. His ears turn red looking for any women around us. "You need to get settled, man, you are already twenty six." I shook my head idly changing the channels of the TV with the remote. "No way man, I'm happy with my present life free of any responsibilities."

A maid comes with the desert in a tray and each of us picks a bowl of fruit pudding. "You never know when you fall in love. Once the right girl approaches, you will have no control on your emotions and all your previous theories will go down the drain." He professes gazing at Edith with so much love. "Whatever man..." I evade the heart wrecking subject I had enough experience of.

As Allesandro gets up to help Edith sit placing a pillow on her back, dad walks to me. "Son, how is the business going?" He hands me a glass of wine and both of us walk to the study. "The business is good dad...." I tell him with a half smile. There is always this disquietude in my heart that keeps haunting my dreams for the near death that I suffered. Dad pats my shoulder. "I can understand." A knowing smile played on his brims.

He goes to the large bookshelf and picks a voluminous book in a red binding. "Read this book and it will give you peace." I looked at him quizzically. Oh no, was he handing me a Bible? He gives me an understanding smile. "Like you think it is not the Bible. How does he read me so well? "Yet it is a book which would bring serenity in your mind. It holds the key to satisfy your incense against the Witmores." I went pale in seconds and looked at my father in a daze. Am I so easy for him to understand?

He refills my glass, a warm smile adorning his brims. "I am your father, though not the one who gave you a birth but I have seen you grow from your bleakest moments. I know how your mind functions and I'm proud of what you are today." He takes a sip of wine from the glass and continues. "I was once upon a time in your shoes and had the same kind of grudge against my father-in-law." He lights a cigarette and studies me through his guarding orbs. "Though your feelings for Amaira aren't exactly the same as I held for Angelica, this book will still help you with the solutions for attaining tranquility and rid you of the chagrin you are experiencing right now." I thank him and take the red binding book to walk to the exit but he calls me back. "Crush those Witmores. I want an answer for every suffering my family suffered because of them." I was stunned by his confession but did not take a second to answer him. "Squashing the Witmores will be the only aim in my life from now, dad."

One month later...

I idly walked the upscale Covington Art House. Yes I own this art gallery. It is special to me because it is my first investment after taking over my father's business.

Since my initial years of adulthood I had been a diehard fan of exquisite paintings. The walls of my house are decorated with graceful masterpieces of famous painters but for this time I flicked a bored gaze over the current pieces gracing the exhibit walls. Unusually, nothing among the displays seemed to excite me.

I rounded the corner and nearly ran into a short, slim, plainly agitated blonde who dropped her art portfolio at the unexpected contact. She pushed her glasses deeper on the bridge of her nose and then bent to collect her spilled artwork, her small hands fluttering with anxiety as she attempted to quickly grab her art and bail.

Long blonde hair trailed down her back in gentle curls and waves and I was struck with the image of twisting that gorgeous mane in my palm. She had the most beautiful chocolate browns and her slender fingers were soft and long that brushed mine tenderly while collecting her art works.

"I'm sorry" I mutter and help her with the scattered stationary. She shoved the artwork deeper in her bag about to hustle but I stopped her. "I'm Adrian Martin, the CEO of Sunrise Industries and the owner of this art house." I tell her hypnotized by her chocolate browns. Why are these novel feelings erupting in me, the feelings I buried long back in my heart, the feelings I did not assume still exist in my nub.

She looks at my lips when I speak to her and my libido involuntarily raises. Was she attracted to me like I was to her? She doesn't reply but let's put on a smile, a smile any man would swoon for but unfortunately with no fruitful result. "Hey pretty woman I want to know your name." I call her going cocky and stop her on her way as she tries to walk away." Her vision again directs to my lips and she tells me in a sign language. I narrow my eyes and give a light shrug unable to understand her when the manager of the art house runs to me.

"Sir she is Christina Casablanca, a final year student of our art college and a painter. She is deaf and dumb, lost her speech and hearing due to an accident ten years ago. If you could talk slowly, by the moment of your rims she would understand what you speak and reply using the movements of your hands." So that is why she was looking at my lips. She was trying to read me and I thought....I shook my head embarrassed by my stupidity.

Such a beautiful girl yet with no speaking and hearing skills! God must have gone crazy and stone hearted when he made this pretty girl but I'm not a man going to fold his hands and accept fate. I am the one who is going to turn the tide and question destiny.

"Send Christina to my cabin." I tell the manager and walk to my room. Within a couple of minutes I hear a knock and she walks inside. This time I was slow in my words so that she could read my lips. "Take a seat Christina." I tell her softly. When she was comfortable, I walked around the table to stand beside her with my hands folded and legs crossed leaning to the desk. She gets anxious with the proximity and pulls her chair back to create a safe distance between us.

I guard her anxious movements carefully without saying a word and speak softly to her. "I am not going to harm you Christina. I like your art, your innocence and everything about you. Give me some time to learn your language because you can't understand mine. I do not want any hurdles in our communication." I tell her unswervingly and point to the sketch she shifted into her bag. "How much are you planning to sell it for?" She takes a slip from her bag and writes the amount. "1000 dollars is a very small amount for such an amazing masterpiece." I add three more zeroes to her amount and hand her the check. Her eyes go wide learning the amount and she begins to shake her head. I smile and answer her.

"Mention not."