Hazrin, born Azrina, was born a boy and was genetically a boy. Then his mother registered him as a baby girl. When he was 2, his mother sent him away to live with his aunt, deep inside the vineyards of France. Without knowing anything, he lived almost twenty years of his life as a girl. Now he has returned home, to his home country, and decided to care for his little brother and sisters, as a man. Can he untrain himself of all feminine gestures and become a real man? Enter Iskandar, the nephew of one of the wealthiest tycoons in Southeast Asia. He had a plan, of becoming independent from his uncle, but that would cause him to betray the only one he holds dear. Will he sacrifice all for Azrina's love? Or will he sacrifice Azrina instead? Then comes Max, a german man from an impoverished noble household. For the past fifteen years, Rina Sofiana de Havensall, has always been in his mind. Now that he had fulfilled his promise, he came to find Rina, to ask her to honour her part of the promise. Bliss Behind A Stalk of Rose Part 7 EX By Shinieris

"Yes?" a cute teenage girl with twin pigtails peered through the barely opened door.

"Ah, Nini, isn't it? I'm Iskandar. I came here a couple of days ago, remember?" Iskandar said the moment he recognized Rina's little sister.

"Oh, Mr. Iskandar. How do you do? Would you like to come in?" Nini said as she opened the door wider.

"Oh thank you, if you don't mind," Iskandar said as he slid off his shoes and entered the house.

Nini grinned to Iskandar's back. "Oh not at all. Please have a seat, Mr. Iskandar. Would you like a drink?"

"Sure, if it's free," Iskandar said recalling the last time he was here with Rina.

Nini cocked her head to the left, not able to pick up Iskandar's meaning before she smiled and ignored the remark, "Sure, it's free now, if you're okay with orange juice."

"Orange will be great, thank you," Iskandar said.

"Coming right up!" Nini skipped to the kitchen merrily, humming a cheerful tune.

Iskandar paced around the living room. He looked at the pictures and trophies lining the cabinets and peered closely at every family pictures. They looked like a happy family of five. He understood from his chat with Rina and her sisters a couple of days ago that their parents died of an accident just months ago and that it was now just Rina and her sisters living there now. What he was very curious about was where exactly was Rina in those pictures? He looked at the lone beefy boy and thought,No way!

"Juice is served!" Nini said as she placed a tray with two glasses of fruit juice onto the coffee table.

Without even looking at Nini, Iskandar asked, "Nini, where is your sister Rina in these pictures?"

"Kak Rina?** She won't possibly be in those pictures, Mr. Iskandar. Ah! I bet you're wondering if that big guy with me and Kak Mira was Kak Rina, don't you, Mr. Iskandar?"

Iskandar coughed. "No, I didn't think that at all."

Nini giggled. "That big guy in those pics is our big brother Fahmi. He's studying in Germany now. Kak Rina is our half-sister. Same mother, different father."

"I see, so that explains why she's not in there," Iskandar nodded.

"Yea, we didn't even know we had a sister until Aunt Sarah, mom's sister, came back from France during our parent's funeral and introduced us to our long-lost older half sister," Nini explained.

"France?" Iskandar thought, Could it be? "Where in France exactly?"

"Does it matter?" Nini asked.

Iskandar was about to say yes when he felt a pair of soft mounds of flesh on his side. He froze and cautiously looked at the offending object as a pair of arms wrapped itself around his arm. He saw Nini's cute face smiling up at him.

"Are you here for my sister," Nini spoke softly, "Or me?" she blew gently on Iskandar's ear.

Iskandar couldn't get away fast enough. He disentangled Nini's arms from his, and stood away with his back flat to the wall. "Nini, where is Rina?"

"She's still at work," Nini shrugged. "Is that a problem?"

"Yes! Great heavens, how old are you, Nini?"

"I'll be 15 next year," Nini stated.

"15 next year? You're just 14! I can go to jail!"

"Come on, who's going to tell? You? I won't tell if you won't. Would you teach me about adult pleasure, big brother?" Nini giggled as she stepped closer.

Iskandar inched sideways, away from Nini before bolting to the front door and running out without even putting on his shoes. "I'll come back when your sister's around!" he cried before starting his engine and driving off.

Nini giggled as she caressed Iskandar's shoes. That was so funny! she thought to herself.

"Nini, did somebody came while I was in the shower?" Mira said as she appeared from the corridor.

"It's just my new toy, don't worry about it," Nini smirked.

------

Later that night...

Iskandar got out from his car feeling that he had forgotten something.

"Is?" his uncle said from the front door.

"Oh uncle, you're still awake?"

"Yes, I am. But forget that, why are you driving without shoes, Is?"

Iskandar looked at his feet and thought, Blast it! So that's what I forgot! but to his uncle, he said, "Uhm, a dog ran off with it, uncle."

"Both of your shoes?" his uncle said with disbelief.

Iskandar looked down at his feet again, then looked up at his uncle. "Two dogs. Very big ones."

Iskandar's uncle rolled his eyes as he turned around. "Take off the socks before you come in then. Your aunt had the cook make 'ikan pari masak asam pedas'*** today."

"Woah! That's my favourite!" Iskandar enthused as he entered the dark house

"I know," his uncle said as the whole house lighted up and about 14 people shouted, "Happy Birthday!"

Iskandar had forgotten that it was his birthday.

------

Later, later that night...

"Hello," Iskandar said into the phone.

"Restoran Ali Mamak?" said a gruff voice from the other end.

"What? Dude, this isn't some friggin' restaurant. You got the wrong number!" Iskandar moved to disengage the call.

"Farn Bernilicious," the voice said before Iskandar was able to drop the call.

"Excuse me?" Iskandar said.

"That was the reason you called today, didn't you? Bernie is in danger?"

"Yes, I believe so. Are you assistant-"

"No names please, Ali Mamak. Call me King."

"Isn't it risky to be talking on the phone like this? Shouldn't we meet somewhere and discuss it face to face? And how did you found out my real contact number so quickly?" Iskandar said as he thought about phone taps.

"I don't care what kind of fiction you watch, Ali Mamak, but a man in my position has friends and foes keeping tabs on me all the time. Meeting you face to face will put unnecessary danger on you and your uncle's family, Ali Mamak. Don't worry, this is a secure channel. As for how I found your real contact number, let's just say I have my ways. Therefore I must insist that I be the one asking questions and you be the one answering it. Do you understand me, Ali Mamak?"

"Yes, I do, sorry."

"Now tell me everything. Start from the beginning."

"Before that, can I change my nick from Ali Mamak**** to something cool, like Triple Seven or something?" Iskandar said. He could hear a groan from the other side.

It was an hour later that Iskandar was able to fully tell the story, minus the part about him looking to find his uncle's daughter. He simply mentioned that he hired Karanathan for a personal reason. He could guess that King probably knew he wasn't telling everything, but didn't push the issue. He hoped he had given enough information to help Nathan without telling too much that his agendas were found out.

"You did a good job contacting me, Triple. I have some contact in the area, I'll have them snoop around a bit and find out what they can. I doubt they'd kill Bernie so soon, they will likely torture him and interrogate him first," King explained.

"That's comforting," Iskandar muttered under his breath.

"From now on, this is not your problem anymore, Triple, leave this to the pro."

"By pro, you mean you?" Iskandar taunted.

"No, by pro, I mean we'll be hiring snotty teenage girls diagnosed with Bieber-fever and several little spastic kids with a fetish for cupcakes. We'll probably be bringing in the heavy guns too, such as little boys suffering severe cases of sinusitis and terrible acne problems brought on by unstable puberty," the voice in the other side said calmly.

"Was that a joke?" Iskandar asked as he heard the disengaged tone. "Gee, you don't have to be sarcastic.

------

Meanwhile, on the other side of the world...

"No, no, you can't do this," Nathan stared wide eyed at the implement of torture in front of him.

"Eef you do not want zis, tell us what we want to know!" said one of the men as he fixed a harness to keep Nathan's head in place.

"I'm telling you, I'm not a spy, I'm just a curious tourist!" Nathan struggles failed as his head was held fast by the harness fitting to the top of his chair, meant to keep his head from moving.

"Ooh, I do no sink you are tourist," the same man said as he pulled both of Nathan's feet up and placed it on the desk, before tying it up.

Another man who was fumbling with the wires behind the implement of torture in front of Nathan, a TV set, switched on the power. As the screen came to life, he showed Nathan a DVD, which turned Nathan's dark complexion pale. Then he put it into the DVD player and the words 'The Catherine Tate Show' appeared on the screen.

"No! You can't do this. I'm a Malaysian, I don't understand Catherine Tate's dry british humour!"

"Iz zat our probleme?" the man who propped Nathan up produced two of what looked to be the softest and firmest goose feathers.

"No, this is wrong!" Nathan watched helplessly as the man moved the feathers close to his feet, "The Geneva Convention clearly states - GYA AHAHH AHAYA HHAHA HA"

For the next few hours, Nathan aka Bernie suffered unspeakable torments at the hands of his french captors. To a man who rarely laughs or smiles, being forced to laugh (through foot tickling) at a marathon of a comedy show that he could not understand was akin to walking a trail of fire with his bare feet. Times that with how long he was there, it was a true show of the cruelty of man against a fellow man.

*For those who are wondering, this is the missing part of the previous chapter. Consider it an addon content. As always comments and feedbacks are very appreciated.
**In malay culture, it is rude to call someone older than you by their given name. People would normally use words such as 'bang' (older brother), 'kak' (older sister), 'pakcik' (uncle), 'makcik' (aunt). As a form of endearment, someone totally unrelated can also call someone younger as 'dik' (little brother/sister) or 'nak' (young boy/girl). It is perhaps similar to the japanese's use of 'san', 'sama', 'chan'.
***Means 'stingray cooked in sour and spicy chilli stew'. It is slightly different from curry as the gravy is not at all thick, but runny, though it sticks to your tastebuds and makes you drool like a pavlov's dog. You will never forget the taste of a good 'asam pedas' and once you've tasted a properly-cooked asam pedas, you will be able to sniff its smell from blocks away. Philipines restaurants in US do use asam pedas in their cooking, but it is pretty mild and can't compare to a real Malaysian asam pedas. Be warned, it is very spicy. Prepare lots of milk and cold breeze if you're not used to spicy foods.
****Mamak in malaysia culture refers to indian muslim exclusively. While the word is not deragoratory in itself, calling a muslim as mamak simply because of the colour of his skin is considered rude. Same goes with calling an indian man as mamak, it's insulting. However, since mamak is not by itself a deragoratory word, newcomers can safely say it without offending 95% of the malaysian populace. Just make sure you know what mamak actually means before you use it.