Thorns of the heart

"I need you to book a flight to California for tomorrow morning", a casual and friendly

voice said on the phone.

"I need to travel, I think it's urgent", the voice added, after which a beep was heard, signifying an end to the call.

She took in a deep breath, stood up quietly and picked up her headset which she placed over her ears.

A feeling of strength and enthusiasm engulfed her as she sauntered out of her apartment and into the street.

It was 6:am as darkness made its way out of the skies to usher in the sun, and its brightness. The streets of Ontario appeared to be hushed with the sound of the wind making its presence visible.

She ran gradually, taking few calculative ambles at first, and then, adding more momentum as she went further, which made the run faster.

The wind whistled in her ears, and that was

what she loved, getting lost in the feeling of a unique closeness with nature.

She only felt this in the mornings, and that stood as the driving force behind her everyday morning runs.

It added life to her day. It gave her a feeling that she was strong and fierce and somehow, it was a

means she used to become in lead of her mind.

She huffed at certain points, but was determined to reach a particular distance before taking a break.

Clara, a beautiful and fierce young lady in

her 20s. Just like the meaning of her name, she had a clear and bright personality, radiant and curvy.

Her smile was alluring, and she didn't hesitate to use it in subduing men if the need arose.

Her hair was midnight black, and it flowed over her shoulders. She had a full and succulent pouted lips which were naturally pink.

Likewise, her eyelashes were languid and velvet black, and her fierce hazel eyes stood out as something striking and breathtaking.

She came from a rich and affluent home. Her father owned the biggest winery in California and as such, he had business deals and partners from around the world.

Clara had everything she could ever ask for, and she couldn't help but count herself lucky.

She lived with her parents until she turned 18. That period was the darkest moment of her life, because she lost her mother.

After a while, she couldn't keep up with the memories of her mother in the house and so, she

requested for a house outside California.

Her father solidly declined her request and begged her for a change of mind, but then, she already had her mind made up and was not willing to take it back.

Her father unwillingly bought her an apartment at Ontario. A gigantic building, designed and furnished to her taste, with flowers at different corners of the entrance.

The apartment had a pink theme as that was what Clara desired.

She was a girl after all, a normal girl who could have every single thing she wished for.

Clara lived alone and that was a little secret she kept away from her father.

He would have been strongly against it if he knew that his damsel lived alone in a place she knew

no one.

~

Her father ensured that he assigned maids, chefs, and chauffeurs who would live with his daughter, but she dismissed them immediately she arrived at Ontario.

To see that her father didn't hear of it, she gave each of them a huge amount of money to keep their mouths shut.

The only person she called her friend was Bella, her secretary and the person who assisted her in managing the clothing business she established.

Immediately she arrived at Ontario, she promised herself to make a name without her father's influence, and so, she started a business of selling clothes and jewelries for different brands.

She was doing well, and at 23, her store name has been categorized as one of the best in the city of Ontario.

***

Mr. Eric, an elderly looking man in his early 50s, sat on his office chair, swinging around thoughtfully. His office appeared to be spacious, with a series of art designs and portraits hanging on the wall, including that of Clara.

He jerked up and strolled towards Clara's portrait that hung on the wall. A massive smile made its way to his face while his fingers trailed around her portrait.

He took in a deep breath as memories of him becoming a father came flooding back.

Clara was his first and only child, and as well, the only closest family he had since his wife's death.

From his countenance, it was visible that he was excited about something huge, and that was because his daughter agreed to come visit him after so many years.

Ever since she left, she declined his requests to come home for holidays and usually, he had no option other than flying over to Ontario to see how she was fairing.

It was difficult to narrow down the reason behind her quick acceptance. She didn't refute his invite this time, neither did she sound irresolute. She agreed, and deep down, Mr. Eric felt a sort of happiness he never felt in years.

"Perhaps, it was because I made it sound urgent and acute", he thought with a considerable grin on his face.

Earlier, he had called Clara and asked her to return because there was a secret he needed to share with her.

He wasn't wrong, neither was he using that as a bait to get her home.

He had a secret for her, a secret which he alone knew, or sohe thought…

This was a secret he had held for years.

Recently, he started harboring a feeling of danger and uncertainty, and that made him request for the presence of his only child.

He strolled back to his desk, picked up his phone, and decided to head home.

Since his wife's death, he lost the true feeling of happiness and that prompted him to become a workaholic who made his office his home.

He had no excitement for returning home and so, he derived joy from burying his head into files or documents that were always scattered on his desk.

He tried to channel his energy towards work to avoid thinking of her, and that made his office his bedroom on certain days.

Just like today, he had slept on his office desk all through the night.

"Ouch!" Clara yelped in pain and landed on the hard floor with a loud thud.

She stayed still for a while, cussing under her breath when she realized that she had hurt herself.

Standing up abruptly, she massaged her knee and arm area as she surveyed the floor to know what had made her fall.

Nothing stood as a supposed obstacle that would lead to her tumble.

"Something is wrong", she muttered, with

her heart thumping in fear and anxiety.

Usually, Clara never fell when running. She had been running almost all her life, and now, she was a mastery in it.

She could count the number of times she fell since she started running,and from her observations, if nothing was on the road, then something bad was about to befall someone close to her.

She jumped in fright and headed hastily back to her house. She entered her house, locked the door hurriedly, and then, sauntered to the kitchen where she grabbed an ice