The apartment where Mark and Celia once lived still bore the marks of abandonment and poverty, worsened now by neglect and the absence of constant care.The air was heavy, the space cluttered. Yet, Vargas lounged on the dingy couch, idly scrolling through his phone, his lips curling into a faint smile as he chuckled at a comedic reel.The front door creaked open, and Regis stepped inside.His nose wrinkled in distaste at the sight of the disheveled apartment.The instincts of a butler immediately kicked in, compelling him to search for a broom as he passed Vargas, who remained engrossed in his phone.The trending dance music playing from Vargas’s phone added to the room’s chaotic ambiance.Moments later, Regis returned with a battered broom, its bristles worn and frayed.“Is this all we have?” he asked, holding up the broom in dismay.Vargas finally looked up, surprised. “Hey, we’re not here to clean. We’re here to watch over our prisoner.”Regis shot him a stern glare. “Get off that

Mark entered his old, dimly lit apartment, greeted by Regis at the door.Lord Ferro’s expression was cold and detached, as if the matter at hand — Christopher’s life — was of little significance.“He’s in the bedroom, getting dressed,” Regis informed him.Mark’s tone was sharp. “Isn’t he ready yet?”Regis smirked faintly and disappeared into the bedroom.Moments later, he and Vargas reappeared, dragging Christopher into the living room.Christopher’s shirtless torso and haphazardly zipped pants betrayed his interrupted efforts to dress.“Hey, I wasn’t done getting dressed— what the hell are you doing here?” Christopher demanded. “I’ve already told them everything I know!”Mark’s voice was calm, yet chilling. “I just want to make sure you understand your situation, Christopher.”A shiver ran down Christopher’s spine. “I thought Alan Campos Rocha was handling this. Who are you, really, Mark?”Mark’s gaze didn’t waver. “I am exactly what you see.”Christopher’s indignation flared. “No sl

Briana worked diligently at her computer, oblivious to the chaos unfolding outside.She paused her typing and reached for her coffee.The steam curling from the cup hinted at its freshness, but before she could take a sip...The door burst open with a force that made it seem like it had been kicked in.Briana nearly jumped out of her chair in fright.The same henchmen from the day before entered, their expressions dark and menacing.Without hesitation, they approached Briana and yanked her out of her seat. She struggled fiercely against their grip.“Hey, what’s going on? Who are you?!” Briana shouted.“Sorry, miss. Boss’s orders,” one of the henchmen replied gruffly.“HELP!” Briana screamed.One of the men quickly gagged her while the other held her tightly. Despite her muffled protests and frantic thrashing, they subdued her with practiced ease.One of them glanced at her desk. From his point of view, the steaming coffee cup sat untouched.“She didn’t drink it,” he noted.“Doesn’t ma

At Vasconcelos Company studios, the filming for "Hope Alive" continued. Alanna Torres performed center stage, her every movement captivating the crew.Off to the side, Ray Dixon stood in the shadows, his attention fixed on his phone.His face darkened as he read a message that made his jaw tighten.The director’s voice cut through the set. “And... cut! Alright, everyone, lunch break!”A collective murmur of relief rippled through the cast and crew as they dispersed.Ray wasted no time; he darted toward his dressing room, needing privacy to examine the message further.Adrian, observing Ray’s abrupt departure, frowned. Something about the actor’s demeanor felt off.Turning to Gilson Vasconcelos, he broached the subject cautiously.“We’ll make it, Adrian,” Gilson said without Adrian or someone else asked him first.“Mr. Vasconcelos, how is your son?” Adrian asked, his concern shifting to another matter.Gilson’s expression hardened. “The ungrateful boy decided to return to university wi

Mary Ellen used her lunch break to check on Celia once more. She carefully opened the door to Celia’s room, stepping inside with quiet movements.Celia lay sprawled on the bed, her clothes wrinkled and her exhaustion displayed. Unlike her dramatic outburst with Karl, no knives or torn garments were involved this time.Her shoes were discarded in a corner, and the room was dim, the curtains drawn shut. She appeared to be sleeping deeply, the effects of the drug mercifully worn off.Relieved, Mary Ellen allowed herself a small smile and risked turning on the light.The sudden brightness made Celia stir, her body shifting restlessly as she blinked awake. Her movements were sluggish, like someone recovering from a long night out.“Celia,” Mary Ellen called softly, stepping closer. “Wake up. We need to talk.”“Urgh...” Celia groaned, rubbing her eyes and squinting against the light.Mary Ellen’s tone turned serious. “Celia, people are saying you were drugged and attacked Karl Carvalho. Is