Sean wiped the sweat off his forehead with a small towel after more than 30 minutes of working out, then grabbed a bottle of mineral water and drank it all in one go.
A handsome man with a muscular build, an athletic figure, and thick eyebrows.
Eyes as sharp as a hawk's.
A chiseled jaw and thin lips that rarely smiled—unless he was satisfied with eliminating his enemies without getting his own hands dirty.
Yet, none of that was enough to fully describe Sean Rajendra, a man with a personality as cold as the Arctic.
He also had the ability to read a person's expression within seconds. He could instantly tell what kind of person he was facing—and whether they were honest or lying.
He was incredibly intelligent in many areas, but there was one thing that had long since died within him...
His heart.
Frozen. Untouched. Except by the girl who once gave him a pink handkerchief.
Sean turned toward the door as Ben rushed in.
"What's going on?"
Sean handed Ben the bottle of water from the table. The man, whose full name was Benedict Zhang, was Sean Rajendra's trusted right hand—a man of mixed Indonesian and Taiwanese descent.
"We've run into a bit of a problem, sir."
"Mr. Gozaev from Russia tricked us. He sent a powder worth far less than what you requested," Ben explained.
Sean's brows furrowed as he crushed the plastic bottle in his hand.
"How much did we lose?"
"We're down about fifteen million dollars. Our men are tracking him as we speak."
"Latest info says he fled to Vladivostok with his wife and son."
"Prepare everything. We're flying to Russia tonight." Sean clenched his fist tightly, as if ready to finish off the old man who dared to deceive him.
---
ALANA SEIKA
A little girl with shoulder-length hair was playing with her favorite doll in the orphanage courtyard. Her smile blossomed when the matron arrived with a couple standing a few meters away, smiling warmly at her.
"She's such a beautiful child. What's her name?" the woman with shoulder-length hair asked the matron.
"Her name is Alana. She's only ten. Obedient and diligent."
"Are you interested in adopting her as your daughter?"
The couple exchanged glances and nodded in agreement.
"Very well, then. Come with me to complete the paperwork. Everything can go much smoother with a little extra payment," the matron said, smiling while rubbing her fingers together subtly.
"We understand."
Alana tiptoed closer, wanting to greet the couple who might become her new parents. But she stopped in her tracks and hid behind a concrete pillar when she overheard their conversation.
"She's beautiful. When she grows up, we can make a lot of money selling her to wealthy men."
"You're right. She's an asset. We must take good care of her so she grows up prettier."
Alana covered her mouth in horror. Terrified, she ran and hid in the back storage room of the orphanage.
"Alana, what's wrong?" asked a boy a year older than her as he approached.
Alana only sobbed, covering her face with both hands.
"I heard someone wants to adopt you. Why are you crying?" the boy named Dirgantara asked.
"Brother, I'm scared. They said they'll sell me when I grow up," Alana replied through tears, her hazel eyes welling up again.
Dirgantara hugged her tightly, like a protective older brother.
"Listen. I have an idea. It might help, though I'm not sure it'll work."
Alana wiped her tears and looked intently at him.
"Later, when they talk to you, stay silent. Pretend to be mute."
"I read a novel like that once. If they think you're mute, they'll cancel everything. No one wants a mute girl," said Dirgantara, a clever eleven-year-old.
Alana kept a sign language book Dirgantara had given her. She had no idea where he got it.
Throughout the journey, Alana followed Dirgantara's plan.
When she arrived at the couple's home, she remained silent. At first, they thought she was just shy.
But days passed, and she still said nothing.
"Hey, look at me!"
"I'm talking to you! Why are you still quiet?" Adeline, her adoptive mother, snapped.
"Could she be mute?" Gaston interrupted, causing Adeline to glare at him. The 33-year-old woman stood and approached Alana, who grew more fearful, clutching her doll tightly.
"Are you mute? That's impossible! We paid a lot for her, honey!"
Gaston grew frustrated at the thought.
"Damn it! We can't return her now. She might snitch."
"Snitch how? She's mute!" Adeline snapped.
"Idiot!" Gaston barked. "What if she writes it down? Ugh, I'm tired of this. Don't bother me," he added, walking to his room.
Years passed. When Alana turned 18, her adoptive parents made multiple attempts to sell her to rich men. But the plan never worked.
"I don't want a mute girl. Why would I pay so much?"
"I want someone perfect!"
"How dare you trick me!"
"Get that cripple out of here, NOW!"
"I don't want her! I want someone who can moan properly, not some mute girl!"
From that moment, Alana was free from her adoptive parents' wicked plans. But in exchange, she had to work for them every day after school.
Every night, Alana prayed for freedom. She also wished to meet Dirgantara again. Since her adoption, they had never seen each other.
That day, Alana had just finished cleaning the house of an elderly couple. Though childless, they were wealthy.
"(Oma, I'm going home now. May I take some flowers from the front garden?)"
She signed this using fluent sign language, which the 71-year-old woman understood well.
"Of course, dear. Take as many as you like."
"(Thank you so much, Oma.)"
Alana made time to visit the nearby beach. She pushed her small bicycle, smiling brightly as she touched the colorful flowers in her basket.
She stopped when she spotted a man sitting at the edge of the beach.
"(Him again?)"
She had seen him many times in the same place.
Alana sat beside him. He looked sad. She offered him her pink handkerchief. But he didn't react at all. Alana hesitated, then decided to speak, assuming he wouldn't recognize her.
---
"Mr. Gozaev and his family are inside, sir."
Sean entered the abandoned warehouse with long strides and saw them already tied up.
"Please, sir! Forgive us!"
"Our son is just a child. He knows nothing," Gozaev's wife wailed.
"Do you know what brought me all the way here, Mr. Gozaev?" Sean gripped the old man's collar.
"Please, forgive me. I admit my wrongdoing. Just don't involve my wife and son, sir."
Sean glanced at the frightened four-year-old boy.
"Isn't this the son you waited eleven years to have?"
"Sir! I beg you! Spare my son's life! Take mine instead!" the woman pleaded, sobbing.
"Untie them," Sean ordered his men.
"Thank you, sir!"
The woman knelt, thinking the ruthless man had shown mercy.
Sean handed her a pistol.
"Shoot your husband—if you want your son and yourself to live."
Gozaev had accepted his fate. His actions had brought this upon him.
With trembling hands, the woman aimed the gun at her husband's head.
Ben covered the boy's mouth with a chloroform-soaked handkerchief, ensuring he didn't witness his father's death. As soon as the child passed out, the trigger was pulled. The bullet tore through Gozaev's skull.
The woman collapsed, sobbing.
"I'm sorry… I'm so sorry!"
"Enough with the tears. Take your son and leave."
"Remember—tell no one, or you'll follow your scamming husband." The woman nodded, promising to stay silent.
---
The next day, Sean returned home. He felt a slight headache.
"Sir, do you need anything?"
"You look pale," Ben said, noticing him massaging his temples.
"Go buy me some painkillers."
"Yes, sir." Ben went off in search of the nearest pharmacy.
Sean opened his eyes when someone knocked on his car window persistently. He rolled it down halfway.
A girl using sign language seemed to be asking for help. Without knowing why, he opened the door and let her in.
Ben returned with a plastic bag of medicine. He was shocked to see a stranger sitting next to his boss.
"Excuse me, miss. You can't just get into someone's car like that!" Ben said sternly.
The girl pleaded with them to let her stay hidden.
She ducked down as four men with menacing faces ran by, clearly searching for her.
"Drive," Sean ordered.
"Yes, sir," Ben nodded stiffly.
Alana sighed in relief, looking back. The men were gone. Only halfway through the drive did she realize she was in a stranger's car.
She used sign language to express gratitude and asked to get off.
Sean didn't understand much sign language—but he could read her expressions.
Alana smiled warmly and bowed as she stepped out.
Thud!
Sean's heart skipped.
He remembered that smile.
He watched as Alana walked toward a flower shop.
"At last, we meet again, Alana Seika."
Throughout the ride, she lingered in his thoughts. Why was she using sign language? She could speak, couldn't she?
"I will find out. And I will bring you to me, Alana."
After so many years... a warm smile finally returned to Sean Rajendra's lips.