Forbiddenly Bound To You
Chapter 104: Don’t Scwold Mummy

Chapter 104: Don’t Scwold Mummy

Mira knew that this was the first time she had ever felt fear like this. In that moment, it seemed all the fears she had endured over the years were insignificant compared to what she felt now.

Her eyes widened in shock, as if her heart had stopped beating. The car swerved sharply to the side, tires screeching against the pavement. Her daughter was safe—thank God! Unknown to little Zami, who remained captivated by the rose in her hand, people around them began to panic. The child was blissfully unaware of the danger she had narrowly avoided.

Before she realized it, Mira rushed forward, pulling Zami into a tight embrace from behind. Tears spilled down her cheeks before she even realized she was crying. The surge of relief mixed with the adrenaline of fear overwhelmed her senses, making it hard to breathe.

"Why would you cross the road like that? Do you know how dangerous it is?" Mira scolded, her voice trembling with lingering fear. She couldn’t even bear to consider the worst-case scenario—what if the car hadn’t swerved in time? What if... oh, she couldn’t bear to think about it. If that car had continued on its path, Zami’s little head would have...

Zami looked up at her mother with wide, guilty eyes. "I’m sowwy, Mummy," she said, her voice full of regret. The innocence in her daughter’s gaze cut through Mira’s panic, reminding her of the countless times she had felt fear in different forms.

Before Mira could respond, a figure appeared in front of them. She quickly lowered her gaze, unable to meet his eyes, feeling ashamed for letting this happen. The polished, expensive shoes he wore exuded an air of wealth and status that made her feel even smaller in that moment.

***

Zamian sat in the back of his car, the coldness that had enveloped him over the past years seeming to deepen with each passing day. His temper had grown sharper; the smallest mistake was enough to ignite his fury. No one dared to err in his presence—perfection was the bare minimum expected when dealing with Zamian.

His gaze remained fixed on his Tablet, the glow of the screen reflecting off his intense eyes, as the car sped smoothly along the road. They had just left the airport; an important meeting demanded his attention, one that required him to leave Nik behind. After all, Zamian wasn’t just a CEO—he was also a king in the corporate world.

Suddenly, the car took a sharp, unexpected turn, the tires screeching as the driver slammed on the brakes. The abrupt stop jolted Zamian from his focused silence.

"A... I’m sorry, boss, but a child ran into the street," the chauffeur said, his voice respectful yet low, loud enough for Zamian to hear.

Zamian didn’t respond, his attention fixed elsewhere. His eyes were locked on the woman who had sprinted to the little girl, her movements frantic yet protective. He watched as she spoke to the child and hugged her, her expression intense. For the first time in a long while, Zamian felt a strange and overwhelming urge to know what she was saying. It was a curiosity he hadn’t experienced in years.

He had never been intrigued by anything; at one point, he had even gone to the hospital, convinced there was something wrong with him for feeling so numb. But now, watching the scene unfold before him, a faint warmth stirred inside him. It was as if, somehow, he was meant to be there, witnessing this very moment.

Before the chauffeur could utter a word, Zamian stepped out of the car, surprising even himself. He walked toward them, his attention drawn to the woman who was bowing her head and saying something to the little girl, seemingly punishing herself for what had just happened. In that moment, a flash of memory pierced through his thoughts—Mi... Mira. His heart clenched with a familiar pain he thought he had buried deep within.

Just as he was about to turn away from the scene, the woman spoke.

"Thank you so much, sir. We are both grateful."

Zamian froze as he heard her voice, his eyes widening slightly. That voice—it was too real, too familiar to be a figment of his imagination. Slowly, he turned back, just in time to see the lady, but his gaze landed on the little girl beside her instead. She was staring up at him with wide, curious eyes. His breath hitched. This child was a perfect mirror of him—same brown hair, same dark eyes...

"Zami... let’s go. What do you say first?" Mira’s voice brought him back to the present moment.

’Zami’...Zamian’ that was all that came to his mind.

"Thank you vewy much," the little girl said, her tone laced with apology. Then she added, "But, Mummy, I wanted to get some wosies for you."

Mira followed the direction of her daughter’s tiny finger, her heart swelling with warmth. Little Zami wanted to surprise her with roses. If only she knew they had to pay for them first. The thought made Mira smile through her tears, feeling a rush of love for her daughter.

"Oh, baby," Mira said softly, her heart aching with love. She turned back to Zamian, her head still low. "Thank you so much, sir."

Gathering her courage, Mira lifted her gaze to finally see the stranger before her. He hadn’t moved; he was still, as if time had stopped. She wondered why he had not moved and wanted to see if he was okay. Their eyes locked, and the world around them faded into a blur. Mira felt her heart stop. It was him—Zamian. He looked taller, even more striking, the intensity in his gaze drawing her in. Words clung to her throat, refusing to form as she struggled to comprehend what was happening.

Fear flickered in little Zami’s eyes as she sensed the tension, worried that the man would scold her mother for some unknown reason. With a small, trembling voice, she stepped forward.

"I’m so sowwy, Mr. Stwanger. Please don’t scwold Mummy."

As both Zamian and Mira’s attention turned to little Zami, Mira felt her heart warm.

"No, baby, he won’t scold me," she assured her daughter, raising her head to meet the gaze of the man who stood before her. Just then, her grandfather, who had been waiting nearby, finally spoke up.

"Come here, Zami! Time to get your cake," he called out, having already entered the building before the earlier incident. Upon witnessing the close interaction between Mira and Zamian, he decided it was best to summon little Zami, sensing a serious conversation might unfold.

"Okay, gweat gwandpa!" little Zami exclaimed, her enthusiasm evident as she dashed toward him.

"Bye, Mummy! Bye, Mr. Stwanger!" she waved enthusiastically before disappearing into the building.

Mira’s smile widened, the warmth of her daughter’s innocence brightening her spirits. Zamian observed the entire interaction, an undeniable truth settling over him—Mira loved her child deeply. The bond they shared was clear, illuminating the way she nurtured Zami with a fierce devotion that stirred something within him.

Once Zami was out of sight, Mira finally turned back to Zamian, her expression shifting as fear began to seep into her features. Had he finally tracked her down? Would he take Zami away from her? The thought sent a shiver down her spine. Things would never be the same again. He now knew her hiding place. A mixture of dread and confusion clouded her mind. Why was she silent? Had she truly lost her voice? The weight of the moment settled over her.

"What makes you say that?" Zamian finally asked, his voice smooth, velvety, and deep, almost magical in its cadence. It sent a thrill through Mira, despite the tumult of emotions churning inside her. He had only become more perfect since she left—how was that even possible?

Mira was momentarily at a loss for words, her heart thumping against her chest as she gathered her thoughts. Zamian tucked his hands into his pockets, an easy yet commanding posture that hinted at the man he had become. Then, to her surprise, he pulled out a small white handkerchief, its fabric delicate against the harsh backdrop of their situation.

With a gentle motion, he reached out and slowly wiped the tears from her cheeks. His fingers brushed her skin softly, and she felt her breath catch in her throat as he lifted her chin with the tip of his fingers, forcing her to meet his gaze.

"But I want to scold you so bad,"

He spoke, his tone serious, yet there was an undercurrent that struck Mira as strangely seductive.

"About... that. My daughter must have..." Her words trailed off, and Mira felt her throat tighten, the weight of the conversation becoming unbearable.

As she looked into Zamian’s eyes, she noticed a shift in his aura; what had once been calm and composed now felt cold and suffocating. The air around them thickened, laden with unspoken accusations and emotions that hung heavily between them.

"Our daughter," he corrected, his voice low but firm.