Master of Lust

Chapter - 274

Rick scrolled through the initial comments, mostly filled with the usual admirers praising her culinary creations: "That looks delicious!" or "Wish I could cook like that!"—typical fans complimenting her cooking skills. But as he delved deeper, he noticed a shift.

Comments from various men popped up, and they weren't just about the food. Some called her "absolutely stunning," while others went bolder:

"Looking hot as always, Nadia!" or "Queen, you keep getting more beautiful."

A few simply wrote "Gorgeous," with hearts and fire emojis scattered through her feed.

He noticed she had even replied to some of the comments, thanking them, dropping flirtatious emojis, or, to a select few, saying "DM me."

Rick could guess what those conversations likely turned into but shook his head, sighing. "If only I could see those messages," he thought, "maybe then I'd get a clearer idea of who she really was back then and what led her here."

As Rick scrolled to her more recent posts, the shift in tone became even more pronounced. The comments under the later photos were markedly different. Gone were the flirtatious replies and playful emojis. Instead, they were laced with bitterness and outright hostility.

One-word insults like "whore", "bitch", and "slut" littered the comment section, with others going further, calling her "gold digger" and "heartless whore."

He even spotted a few more remarks like "People like you get what's coming to them," and "Guess your games caught up with you."

Rick felt a pang of disappointment as he scrolled through, the weight of these words filling his thoughts. "This… this was what she left behind", his curiosity only intensifying.

As Rick scrolled further, the comments became increasingly venomous, each one cutting deeper than the last. They weren't just insults—they were like twisted jokes designed to hurt:

"You're cheaper than a bus fare, and everyone's had a ride," sneered one comment.

"More men have gone through you than a subway turnstile."

"Girl, if loyalty was money, you'd be bankrupt."

"If home-wrecking were a sport, you'd have an Olympic gold."

And then, amid all the harsh taunts, one comment caught his eye, from a profile named AnnieOnGo:

"Bitch, I called you my best friend, stood by you, helped you when you needed it, and you stabbed me in the back by stealing my boyfriend!" Another reply followed:

"Why did you even take him if you didn't plan to keep him? Just jumping from one guy's dick to the next like it's your full-time job? You're pathetic."

Rick's mind raced as he processed the words, each comment unfolding a story—a tangled, fractured past that Jemimah, or rather, Nadia, had once lived.

As Rick continued scrolling, the accusations grew even darker. On the third-to-last post, comments erupted accusing Nadia of being responsible for not one, but two men's deaths.

"You broke Robert's heart, and he was the sweetest, most caring guy ever. He didn't deserve this," one person commented, rage simmering in their words.

"Jack was such a kind soul," another wrote bitterly. "All he wanted was someone to love, but you toyed with him and left him to die."

As the threads built up, new voices joined in, venting their anger.

"I hope you know you killed Robert, you heartless witch!"

"How do you sleep at night, knowing Jack ended his life because of you?"

But then Annie's comment appeared again, cementing the firestorm of hate:

"You didn't just ruin one life, Nadia, you destroyed two. Robert and Jack both wanted love, and you turned that against them. You're nothing but a murderer hiding behind a pretty face."

Fuelled by Annie's words, others joined in, echoing her accusations.

"Murderer! Double murderer!"

"You used and tossed them both aside like garbage."

"All those fake smiles and lies drove them straight to their graves."

The comments swelled with anger and bitterness, each one showing a new piece of Nadia's dark past.

He clicked on the second-to-last post, and the stream of comments grew even more venomous.

"Heartless witch, you should've been the one gone, not sweet Robert," one user raged.

"Why are you even alive, Nadia? People like you should just disappear," another spat with unfiltered hatred.

As he scrolled, the insults became sharper, more severe, with some comments wishing death upon her. Rick's lips pressed into a line, uneasy as he took in the anger festering in her past.

Moving to the final post, he found a similar torrent of bitterness, but then the comments took on a new twist.

"Running away, huh, Nadia?" one user taunted. "Face your mess instead of hiding like a coward."

"No matter where you are, you can't run from the truth. Come back and answer for what you did."

Days later, the comments shifted in tone, softening, with fewer appearing as time passed.

"Nadia, wherever you are, please come back. Hiding won't fix anything."

"Maybe… if you come back, we can talk this out."

After some more scrolling, Rick paused at a message from Laura_Suburb_Gazette, the username suggesting a local news network.

"Nadia," the comment read, "if you're out there, please come home. Your grandmother misses you more than you could know. Let me help clear up these misunderstandings. I'll make sure people hear your side, but you need to reach out."

The words seemed to carry a different weight, more personal, tugging at something deeper.

Rick thought for a moment, weighing his options. Perhaps reaching out to this Laura could finally shed light on Nadia's—or rather, Jemimah's—mysterious past. He quickly clicked on her profile, typed out a message:

"Hi, I'm Rick. Nadia Ahmed is currently living with me. Can we talk?"

He clicked "send" and waited, his eyes fixed on the screen. But Laura's account was marked offline, and the seconds dragged by with no response.

Each silent moment felt like an eternity, and Rick sighed, realizing it was already late at night. She's probably asleep, he thought, setting his phone down with a mix of impatience and anticipation.

Rick lay in bed, his mind spinning with questions. So Annie was telling the truth… or at least some part of it. But what really happened? Did Nadia directly do something that led those men to suicide, or was it a huge misunderstanding?

And then there was Jemimah. She'd only known him for a day and had already shown openness toward intimacy. Yet she was also thoughtful, caring beyond reason—first for his father, and now for him.

Jemimah seemed gentle, warm-hearted, nothing like the cold image that Annie painted of Nadia. Could losing one's memory truly change someone so completely? He wondered.

Or had those men seen something in her that wasn't there—hoping for love when all she wanted was physical closeness?

Thoughts clouded his mind, weighing him down, until finally, sleep began to creep in.

A low vibration shook him from his daze. The screen of his phone glowed in the dark, illuminating his face just enough for him to blink against the sudden brightness. He reached over, squinting at the screen and shielding his face as he read the unexpected message: it was from Laura, the journalist.

Rick squinted as he read Laura's message.

"If you're lying or trying to pull some kind of prank, this isn't just a bad joke—it's in seriously poor taste. Missing persons are not something to play around with. If you're being truthful, please explain. But understand I'm sceptical, especially given the circumstances around Nadia's disappearance."

Rick sighed; her response made sense given the situation. He began typing carefully, starting with a greeting to keep it polite.

"Hi, Laura. This isn't a prank. I'm telling you the truth, so let me explain everything."

He paused, thinking of how to start from the beginning, then continued.

"Some months ago, my father found her—unconscious—on the street one night. He didn't know anything about her, not even her name. She had no identification on her, nothing that would give any kind of clue about her past.

"He took her to the hospital to get checked out. Doctors told us she had no serious injuries, but… she had amnesia. Complete memory loss. It was as though she couldn't recall anything about her past life. She couldn't remember a single person, place, or even her own name."

He hesitated, then added more.

"Since she didn't know who she was, my father and I decided to call her Jemimah. That's the name she's gone by ever since. She's gotten used to it, responds to it like it's her real name."

He took a deep breath, feeling strange to be putting so much detail to a stranger but knew he had to be thorough.

"Anyway, everything seemed fine… until tonight. We were at a restaurant, and a waitress confronted her, called her Nadia, and accused her of stealing her boyfriend and ruining her life.

"That's how I got curious and looked into things. I found her old profile and your name linked to the situation, so I thought maybe you could help. All we know about her past is what's online, but we really don't know the whole story."

"So, yeah… any light you can shed would be helpful. Why wasn't there a missing person's case? Has no one been actively looking for her?"

Rick hesitated a moment before hitting send, but he knew this was his best shot at learning the truth.

** ** ** ** **

[Author's Note: Don't forget to read my new stories: "The Revenge of the Fallen Villain" and "From Beauties to Treasures: I will own them All"]