Dr Zein and Captain Lenny strode from the private chamber adjoining the ICU, their expressions unreadable, as though no conversation had transpired, no revelations had been made.
The air between them bore the weight of unspoken truths, yet neither uttered a word.
Dr Zein had insisted upon absolute discretion, none must know of what had just unfolded.
Captain Lenny, though sceptical, had conceded, but not without securing a condition of her own, in due time, he was to divulge everything, every shadowed mystery that lay beyond her understanding, beyond even the farthest reaches of her imagination.
To this, Dr Zein inclined his head in assent, though he made it clear that the time for such revelations was not yet at hand.
There was, however, another matter, one of far greater consequence. Dr Zein had enlisted her aid in scrutinising her superior, Commissioner Wawan Setiawan.
Every move he made, every action that so much as hinted at duplicity, was to be relayed to Dr Zein without delay. Why he harboured such suspicions, he did not say.
Yet there was a certainty in his tone, an unshakable conviction that spoke of knowledge far beyond what he was willing, for now, to disclose.
Dr Zein had uttered but one grave suspicion, that Wawan might have been complicit in the murder of his wife, Angelique Utami.
With little choice in the matter, Captain Lenny conceded, though not without securing a price of her own, access to Dr Zein’s unparalleled knowledge, to secrets and technologies beyond her comprehension.
Days later, the case of the massacre at Dony Arjito’s residence was officially laid to rest. With no tangible evidence to pursue, the authorities had little choice but to abandon the investigation.
Even Captain Lenny, once steadfast in her resolve, seemed to relinquish her pursuit, her determination curiously dulled.
Yet, in the depths of her mind, she knew the truth. She knew all too well the architect of that night’s carnage.
A doctor, calm, unassuming, his countenance betraying no trace of sin, yet veiling a darkness vast enough to unnerve even the most hardened souls.
A man whose secrets were not merely a threat to this nation, but to any that dared seek his ruin.
And thus, the massacre case was closed.
*****
(In an Apartment)
“This is the proof,” declared a long-haired man, presenting a photograph to his master. In the image, a female doctor beamed with joy, her arm entwined with that of a male doctor.
“El’am! ’Ayreh feek!” Ghufron Ali spat in fury, his features darkening.
At thirty-one years of age, Ghufron seethed with barely restrained anger. The woman in the photograph, his fiancée, Dr. Zelena Aisha Azwar, had, it seemed, forged an intimate bond with another man. And not just any man, but a fellow doctor. Dr. Zein.
“Burhan,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Are you certain? Are you absolutely sure this is my fiancée?”
Burhan, his subordinate, gave a solemn nod. “A hundred per cent, sir. Hendri would not dare deceive us.”
Ghufron exhaled sharply, his mind already racing ahead to the matter of retribution. What punishment could possibly be fitting for this betrayal?
Only one answer presented itself. Death.
Dr. Zein had dared to take what was his. And for that, there could be no pardon.
“Continue the investigation,” he ordered, his voice laced with menace. “But this time, I will handle matters personally.”
With a curt nod, Burhan excused himself, leaving the apartment in silence.
Ghufron clenched his jaw, his fingers tightening around the glass before him—until, with a violent crash, it shattered against the floor.
“Zelena!” he hissed, his voice laced with venom. “You deceitful woman! And as for you, Zein, prepare yourself for what’s coming.”
A slow, cruel smile twisted his lips as he reached for his phone. The game had begun.
*****
(At Derisa Hospital)
The news of Dr Zein’s recovery spread swiftly through the halls of Derisa Hospital. Whispers turned into exclamations of joy, and soon, the entire staff was celebrating his return.
Though widely regarded as a doctor who performed his duties with little enthusiasm, he had always possessed one undeniable advantage, his strikingly handsome features.
Yet amidst the hospital’s jubilant atmosphere, one man remained untouched by the collective relief. Hendri, the head of human resources, harboured no such sentiments.
Every expression of gratitude, every hushed murmur of admiration grated upon him. He despised the man they all revered, but his resentment now extended beyond mere professional rivalry.
For Hendri was no longer just an HR officer, he was a spy.
Bound not by loyalty, but by coercion, he had found himself ensnared in the web of Ghufron Ali, a powerful businessman from Sidoluhur.
A man who had uncovered the romantic involvement between Dr Zelena and Dr Zein.
Initially, Hendri had dismissed the notion of aiding a man he had never met. But when a series of damning files arrived, evidence of his own misdeeds, his resistance crumbled. The choice was no longer his to make.
What disturbed him most was not the blackmail itself, but the sheer efficiency with which Ghufron’s men had acquired the information.
How long had they been watching him? From where had they unearthed such meticulous records of his crimes? The questions gnawed at him, yet he knew better than to seek answers.
His instructions were explicit, monitor Dr Zelena’s every move, report her activities, and, most crucially, uncover all there was to know about Dr Zein.
Hendri had divulged everything within his knowledge, withholding neither detail nor embellishment. Now, all that remained was to await further orders.
*****
(At Zelena's Room, Second Floor of Pak Abdullah's House)
"Father, Mother... it’s true. The news isn’t wrong. I am indeed involved with someone here," Dr Zelena said, her voice steady, yet unmistakably burdened, as she spoke into the video call with her parents.
"You cannot be serious, Zelena!" her father, Akbar Azwar, retorted, his face flushed with both anger and disbelief.
"Have you thought of what Ghufron’s family will do to us if you break off this engagement? Think of the consequences," he added, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.
"Father, you’re being selfish. I’ve opposed this marriage from the start. Even at the engagement ceremony, I was ready to refuse, but you both just stared at me in silence. You never understood how I felt, yet you forced me into it."
"What is so great about his family, anyway? If I were to marry, it would only be one person, Dr Zein. No one else. That’s final!" Zelena’s words were firm, cutting through the air like a blade, before she ended the call abruptly.
"Hello... hello?! Zelena?!" Akbar shouted in frustration, realising too late that the call had been cut off.
In a fury, he hurled his phone across the room, the device crashing to the floor in a broken heap.
"Look at what you’ve done! You’ve spoiled her, always giving her everything she wants!" Akbar’s voice was raw with anger as he turned towards his wife, Farida Hasyim.
Farida, ever ready to defend herself, shot back swiftly, "Wait... wait a moment! Why am I the one to blame? Who was it, I wonder, who was so eager to become the in-laws of a successful businessman’s family?" Her words were sharp, her temper flaring as she prepared for a confrontation.
But Akbar, drained and tired of the endless arguments, chose silence over further conflict, leaving the room heavy with unresolved tension and an unspoken storm between the two.
(Back in Zelena's Room)
The room was thick with tension, the air crackling with the anger Zelena could no longer contain.
The news that Ghufron Ali had been the one to reveal her relationship with Dr Zein to her parents was like a blade to her chest. It seethed in her veins, a fury she could not quell.
The very man she had once entertained the idea of marrying had betrayed her, sending her spiralling into a whirlwind of frustration.
A dangerous impulse stirred within her, a dark desire to confront Ghufron, to expose her true nature not just to her own family, but to his.
The thought of finally ridding herself of this charade burned through her thoughts. But before she could act on it, the door to her room creaked open, interrupting her furious musings.
"So, it’s true, then? You're engaged?" The voice of Dr Zein rang out, startling her.
Zelena’s heart skipped a beat, though she tried to mask it with a feigned calmness. She turned to face him, her pulse quickening in response.
"Ah... ah... Dr Zein... No, this... this is just a misunderstanding!" Her voice faltered as she realised how unconvincing her words sounded even to herself.
"I’ve heard everything, Zelena." Dr Zein’s voice was smooth, measured, his smile teasing. There was no judgement in his eyes, only a curiosity that both unsettled and intrigued her.
He walked into the room with the ease of someone who had every right to be there, his presence filling the space.
Zelena's frustration began to rise again, but now it was tinged with something else. What was he playing at?
Her emotions were all tangled up inside her, and she struggled to find any coherent response.
"You're... you're greedy," she finally managed to say, her voice a mix of indignation and a strange, bitter amusement. "Engaged already, yet you still want to be with me."
Dr Zein let out a small, amused laugh. "Greedy? I didn’t realise I had that reputation. But you, on the other hand, seem to be rather greedy yourself, don’t you? Already promised to someone else, but still," he leaned forward slightly, his voice low, "you want me, too."
Zelena’s eyes flashed with anger. "You're the one who's greedy," she snapped. "You’re married, yet you flirt with every woman you meet. You think I haven’t noticed? Zara, Heendon, Melati, Captain Lenny... and now me. What is it with you?"
Dr Zein tilted his head, clearly surprised by her accusation. "Flirting? No, no. I never flirted with any of you. If anything, you’re all the ones who came to me," he replied, his tone light, almost dismissive. "And what does Melati or Captain Lenny have to do with this?"
Zelena’s face reddened with frustration. "What does it matter? If I say you're flirting, then you are," she retorted, her voice shaking with emotion.
Dr Zein leaned back in the chair, his hands behind his head in a relaxed gesture. "Women. You’re all so strange," he murmured under his breath, as though to himself.
Zelena’s eyes narrowed, a fierce fire in them. "Who are you calling strange?" she hissed, her voice low and dangerous.
"Ah, you misheard me," Dr Zein said, standing up with an easy grace. "I didn’t say anything of the sort. But since you’ve ordered me out, I suppose I shall go."
Zelena’s temper flared again. "Ordered you out? I never said anything of the sort! You came in uninvited, and now you think you can leave just like that?"
Dr Zein gave her a long, inscrutable look, and then turned towards the door, his movements leisurely.
"You told me to leave," he said, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "So I’m going."
Zelena stood frozen, caught in a tumult of conflicting emotions. She had told him to leave, and yet now, confronted with the fact that he was obeying her, she felt a strange sense of powerlessness.
Her anger, once sharp and clear, now seemed to dissipate into something much more complicated. She had wanted him to go, but now, the space between them felt heavier than ever.
"Women," Dr Zein muttered under his breath again as he stepped out of the room, leaving Zelena to wrestle with her own thoughts, her own desires.
*****