Stephen quietly exited Yuna's room and walked toward the balcony, needing a moment to clear his head. The morning air was cool, a welcome contrast to the tension that had filled the penthouse. He leaned against the railing, staring out at the city's glittering skyline. The view was breathtaking, but this morning, it felt like a backdrop to his worries.With a deep breath, he pulled out his phone and opened the system, his mind turning to the practical aspects of his life. His current stats appeared on the screen:- **Name:** Stephen- **Surname:** King- **Level:** Penicia One- **Net Worth:** $10.8 Billion- **Personal Health:** 80%- **Security Threat Level:** ModerateStephen's eyes lingered on the "Security Threat Level" metric. Was that recently added? He knew it was an area that needed his immediate attention. The events of last night had made it clear that despite his business acumen, he still had a lot to learn about balancing his responsibilities and ensuring Yuna's safety.J
Yuna stood frozen, staring at the intruder with wide eyes. Fear gripped her heart as the man's cold voice cut through the silence of the apartment."Where's your Stephen?" His words hung heavily in the air, filling the room with an ominous tension. Yuna's mind raced, trying to process the danger she was in.Marianne, still unaware of the unfolding crisis, remained seated in the kitchen, absorbed in her book. Yuna's thoughts darted to Stephen, hoping desperately that he would come to her rescue.Just as panic threatened to overwhelm her, the apartment door burst open with a sudden shout, "Surprise!"Yuna's confusion mingled with relief as the scene before her transformed in an instant. The intruder's menacing presence dissolved into a whirl of colors and joyful voices. Standing before her were familiar faces, friends, and family members she hadn't expected to see."Happy birthday, Yuna!" The chorus of voices erupted in unison, accompanied by the lively melody of "Happy Birthday." Confe
The next morning dawned bright and clear, casting a golden hue over Stephen's apartment as sunlight streamed through the windows. Stephen, disciplined in his routine, rose with the first light. His mornings were sacred, a time for physical upkeep and mental clarity.With determination, he moved through his morning tasks. The aroma of coffee filled the kitchen as he brewed a strong cup, marking the beginning of his day. Sipping the hot liquid, he savored its warmth, letting it awaken his senses.Outside on the balcony, the morning air was crisp and invigorating. Stephen performed a series of stretches, his muscles flexing and relaxing with practiced ease. His commitment to fitness was evident in each deliberate movement, a way to keep his body in peak condition.As he finished his stretches, Stephen glanced over the cityscape spread out before him. The skyline stood against the backdrop of a clear blue sky, a sight that never failed to inspire him. He took a moment to appreciate the be
Stephen chuckled softly, though there was an edge to his amusement. "I see what you're playing at, Marianne," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation. "You want me to abandon Yuna and suddenly be fully present for Ariane, just like old times, huh?" Marianne's expression hardened, her gaze locking onto Stephen's with intensity. "It's not about that," she retorted sharply. "It's about balance, Stephen. Yuna needs stability, but so does Ariane. And where's Yuna's father in all of this? Why must you be the one to bear all this burden alone?" Stephen sighed, a mix of frustration and sadness crossing his features. "Yuna's father is... not around," he said quietly. "He's in jail. I can't just leave her alone in this cruel world, Marianne. She needs someone." "And Ariane doesn't?" Marianne shot back, her voice rising slightly. "You think she doesn't need her father after everything she's been through?" Stephen ran a hand through his hair, his eyes troubled. "Of course she doe
Marianne took a deep breath, steeling herself as she approached Ariane's door. She knocked firmly, and Ariane's voice, filled with anger, demanded to know who it was. "It's Mom," Marianne replied quietly, opening the door cautiously. Ariane sat on the edge of her bed, arms crossed defensively, her eyes challenging."Mom, what's going on?" Ariane asked sharply, suspicion in her tone as Marianne entered and closed the door behind her."We need to talk, Ariane," Marianne began, sitting down on the edge of the bed beside her daughter. She looked into Ariane's eyes, trying to gauge her daughter's emotions. "Stephen isn't trying to get rid of Yuna," Marianne continued, choosing her words carefully. "Yuna's father is in prison, and until he comes back, Yuna has to stay with us."Ariane's eyes widened slightly at the news. "Wait, Yuna's real father is in jail?" she asked, a hint of satisfaction creeping into her voice. "Good riddance," she muttered under her breath.Marianne nodded, her expre
Stephen settled into the car, glancing out the window as the house disappeared from view. He couldn't shake the worry gnawing at him. "I hope the girls are getting along," he said, trying to sound optimistic but failing to mask his concern. Marianne, sitting beside him, sighed softly. "It's all a bit complicated, Stephen. We just have to trust them for a few hours." Stephen nodded, trying to push the worry aside. "It’ll be over when Ariane’s holiday is done. How many days left, by the way?" Marianne hesitated, her eyes flickering with unease. "It's not exactly a holiday. Ariane left her boarding school." Stephen turned to her, surprise etched on his face. "What? Why did she leave?" "It was too far, and there were complaints about bullying," Marianne explained, her voice tinged with guilt. "Complaints about bullying?" Stephen asked, his mind racing. "Was Ariane being bullied, or was she the bully?" Marianne looked down, her voice barely above a whisper. "She was bullying other k
Stephen crouched among the shards of the once elegant kettle, its ceramic pieces reflecting his fractured self-esteem. Marianne towered over him, her eyes alight with the fire of scorn.“You can’t even make a simple cup of tea without causing a disaster,” she sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. “What’s next, Stephen? Will you burn the house down trying to fry an egg?”Stephen’s hands trembled as he gathered the broken fragments, his silence a feeble shield against her barbs.“Look at you,” Marianne continued, her words like daggers. “Sitting at home all day, contributing nothing but mess and trouble. You’re not the man I married.”He wanted to defend himself, to tell her that he was trying, that the job market was tough, but the lump in his throat held his words captive.“Pathetic,” she spat out, turning away with a huff, leaving Stephen amidst the ruins of his pride and their kettle.Stephen's sigh melded with the clink of ceramic shards as he knelt on the unforgiving kitchen f
Stephen's confusion grew, but the old man simply laughed harder, turning on his heel and scampering away with surprising agility. Stephen watched him go, a frown creasing his brow. When he looked down, he noticed a flyer on the doormat. It was a job vacancy for a laundry man, the kind of position he had never considered before. He picked up the flyer, the paper rough against his injured hand. Maybe this was it, the opportunity he needed. Stephen let out a long sigh, a sound that carried the weight of his struggles and the flicker of newfound hope. He would apply for the job. Stephen walked back home, the night air cool on his face. He had a job now, and he couldn't wait to tell Marianne. But the house was dark; she wasn't there. He called her, once, twice, but no answer. Finally, she picked up. "Why are you calling so much?" Marianne's voice was sharp, annoyed. "I got a job, at a laundry place," Stephen said, trying to keep the happiness in his voice. She sighed loudly. "Goo