Alex sat in his car, parked in front of a nondescript local diner, the scent of frying bacon and coffee wafting through the open window. The neon lights flickered above, casting an intermittent glow on the rain-slicked street. The early evening was quiet, too quiet for his liking. Alex adjusted his position in the driver's seat, his eyes scanning the surrounding area for any signs of movement. He couldn’t afford another slip-up like the one that had left him bruised and unconscious in an alleyway, courtesy of Jackson.He reached into the glove compartment and pulled out a worn leather notebook. Flipping through the pages, he reviewed his notes, scribblings, and observations. Each entry detailed Ethan’s movements, his meetings, and his associations. Alex’s hatred for Ethan burned anew with every word he read. Ethan had everything Alex once had—and more. Wealth, power, and the love of a woman Alex had lost. His motivation to ruin Ethan’s life was a dark fire that fueled his every m

Jackson stood in the middle of the old abandoned warehouse he had transformed into a makeshift home and gym. The cavernous space echoed with the clanging of weights and the rhythmic thud of his fists hitting a worn punching bag. Various pieces of scrap metal and discarded machinery littered the area, repurposed as exercise equipment. His muscles glistened with sweat, and his breaths came in steady, controlled bursts as he pushed his body to its limits.Suddenly, an eerie silence fell over the warehouse, broken only by the distant drip of water. Jackson, lost in his workout, didn’t notice the three masked men creeping through the shadows. They moved with practiced stealth, their dark clothing blending seamlessly into the dimly lit environment. The men circled Jackson, their movements synchronized like a well-rehearsed dance. They kept him in the center, each step bringing them closer. Jackson’s instincts kicked in, and he spun around, eyes narrowing as he took in the intruders.

Jackson never imagined his makeshift place would be ruined before the end of the day. Now, he lay on the cold concrete floor, his suit ruined to bits and his body screaming in pain. Grunting, he forced himself to sit up. Every tiny movement sent jolts of agony through his battered frame. “Ah…” He groaned as his movements caused the hard floor to scrap a bruise on his elbow. Blood dripped from his wounds, but he ignored it, his mind focused on one thing: revenge. He would not let these men get away with what they had done. But the real question was who did it? Who sent these men after him? He was sure they didn't just act on their own. A faint feeling slowly creeped up to him, but he shook his head vigorously to snap out of it.“One of the houses,” his mind told him instantly. Jackson allied his fists in anger, smashing into the walls. He shouldn't have let them do as they pleased, but the funny thing was how powerless he was. Like a housefly close to a fucking dragon fly. The diff

Rachel had just finished her bath. The bathroom was warm and steamy, with white tiles on the walls and a small window letting in the soft morning light. Drops of water clung to her skin as she reached for her towel. By the sink, her phone lit up and made a soft chime.She noticed it right away. "Who...?" she muttered, slowly making her way to the phone and picking it up. Careful not to get it wet, she swiped open the screen. It showed a message from Paul.Rachel raised an eyebrow. Paul usually calls, not texts. Curious, she tapped on the message box.He wanted to tell her about something important.There was an address at the bottom of the screen. Rachel scoffed. Really? Shaking her head in disbelief, she dropped the phone.But she picked it up almost immediately. The address rang a bell. Wait a minute. That was a hotel! Her hands shook as she tried to figure out what Paul meant by his message. A proposal?No. Rachel shook her head. That was too fast. An invitation to dinner? Yes. Pr

This had to be the most peaceful sleep Rachel had enjoyed since she saw Mr.Mcdave acting weird at the office. She had been having nightmares about him catching her spying on him and her frantic attempts to cover her tracks. But tonight, wrapped in the soft warmth of Paul’s couch, those nightmares seemed a world away.She drifted into a deep slumber, the gentle hum of the rain against the windows providing a soothing backdrop. The bed was really comfortable, with a fluffy blanket draped over her. Rachel felt a sense of safety here, something she always felt whenever she was with paul. Even with the storm raging outside, she was cocooned in a bubble of calm.Her dreams were free of Mr. Mcdave menacing glare and the stress that had been plaguing her. Instead, her mind wandered through peaceful scenes, where she explored fruity gardens, far from the annoying chaos of her waking work life.But just as she began to relax completely, her phone blared loudly from the nearby table, shatte