Stephen was pacing up and down the narrow hallway of the yacht. His anxiety was a living, breathing entity chasing her all over the yacht. A few of the crew members and the seasoned captain of the seas followed behind. The search seemed to be unending as the yacht was huge. With every second, Stephen's heart was pounding out an insistent rhythm as some fear for Ariane clawed at his insides."Captain, we have to find her. We have to find Ariane," Stephen urged on, his voice taut with desperation.The captain nodded his weathered face, creased with lines of worry. "We've scoured every room, but there's no sign of her. It's as if she vanished."Stephen clenched his fists. "We'll find her. I don't care what it takes. Just make sure she's safe."The captain nodded solemnly. "We're doing everything we can."Stephen started back down the hallway with crew members close behind. Night was starting to creep in around the dimly lit yacht, long shadows stretching out across the floor. He remember
Shaking, Stephen picked up the single-foot slipper that lay beside the note. It was unmistakably small, child-sized, and he could smell the familiar scent of lavender in his nostrils, Ariane's favorite. The full impact of the fact hit him then with the force of a sledgehammer: Ariane had been here recently, but the kidnappers moved her only minutes ago. Panic surged in him like a tidal wave.He balled the note in his fist; the words barely had time to register on his mind as he tried to lock onto the crisis at hand. His mind was racing with finding Ariane before it was too late. The corridors of the yacht made a disorienting maze, every turn and every shadow seeming to mock his desperate search. He bolted out of the room, the weight of his responsibility pounding in his heart.The water level on the yacht was high, sometimes ankle-deep. Stephen splashed through growing puddles as his flashlight beam cut through the murky blackness. It creaked in the structure of the yacht under the pr
Stephen returned to the control room, his clothes soaked and his expression grim. The captain was in the middle of a tense meeting with several crew members; their faces showed worry. The captain looked up as Stephen came in."Mr. Stephen," the captain said, waving him into the group, "we are trying to get the engine repaired. The yacht is taking on water, and we need to avoid sinking."One of the crew added, "The signal line to call for help has been disconnected. We're effectively cut off."Stephen's eyes locked onto the captain's. "Have you found my daughter?" he asked, his voice strung taut with anxiety.The captain shook his head. "Not yet, but we will. Right now, we need to stabilize the yacht. If we sink, everyone's in danger."Stephen's face darkened. "So, my daughter's safety isn't a priority?"The captain sighed again as his eyes met Stephen's. "That is not what I mean. The lives of everyone on board are at stake. We first have to wrest back control of the yacht. After that,
Marianne continued to pound against the door as the hail of blows she pummeled with her fists coursed through her. "Let me out!" she shouted, her voice cracking from desperation. The creeping water was ankle-deep and slowly beginning to squeeze a fist of panic in her chest.She fumbled with her phone to dial up Stephen's number. It rang forever. "Come on, Stephen, pick up," she muttered, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. When it went to voicemail, she cursed under her breath. "Great. Just great.She threw desperate eyes through the little room for any kind of help. The water kept rising. She knew she had just moments before she'd be completely submerged. Desperate, she scoured every inch for a sign of a way out.Charles sat at a corner table in the yacht's restaurant bolting down prawns drenched in hot sauce. He hadn't seen Stephen in quite a while and wondered what could be keeping him. A flicker of darkness, the lights went out, murmurs of confusion filled the room.Charles l
Back in the city, Enoch trudged into his apartment, beat after a long, tiring day at the Empire. The night sky hung over him like an inky blanket starred with little lights that had no cheering effect on him. He flung his briefcase onto the sofa and beelined for the small bar in the corner of his living room.He poured himself a generous whiskey glass and breathed deep as the amber liquid swirled around inside. "Heaven today was hell," he muttered to himself. Financial loss reports and machinery breakdowns had dominated his day. If only he could predict the market better, he thought, then maybe things wouldn't be quite so bleak.Enoch collapsed onto the sofa, wincing when the leather groaned under him. He took a long drag off his drink, wincing a little as it burned on the way down. He picked up his remote and turned on the TV, hoping for some sort of distraction from the headaches of the day.The anchorman's voice bounced sharply around the room. "Breaking news: A luxury yacht has be
Stephen's eyes flickered to a brilliant white light, with just the steady beep punctuating the silence. He lay still, feeling the dull ache of pain mixed with the warmth of a soft hospital bed. His head turned upward slowly as his mind worked furiously to piece together fragmented memories of a sinking yacht and the water's cold embrace.It was a small, sterilized room with white walls and only one window. He distinguished two security guards at their posts through the frosted glass door, shadowy silhouettes to ensure that no man went in or out of the room. Stephen's heart began to race. The last moments still fresh in his mind: Yuna clinging onto him, the frenzy of the water, and then that "Mission Successful" message that had flashed before his eyes as he sank into unconsciousness."What… what happened?" he muttered, reaching to sit up; his muscles were stiff and weak. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, the cold floor against his feet. Panic surged in through him when his g
Marianne's car drew in front of the luxury hotel, and Stephen just stared blankly out at the front doors. It was as if it were a place he had never seen before—foreign to him. Marianne turned toward him with a glance and a weak smile. "Come on, let's go inside," she whispered, pushing him toward the doors.No sooner had they entered the spacious and luxurious lobby than a group of hotel employees, including the manager, were lining up with their gifts in hand. As they neared, he beamed at them. "Welcome back, Mr. King," he said warmly.Stephen turned his eyes to the manager. Furrows deepened on his brow as he tried to think who this man was. A look of confusion swam over his eyes, and the manager's smiling face fell. "I—I'm sorry if I did something wrong," he stammered.Marianne stepped in, smooth as silk. "Stephen isn't feeling well," she said. "We appreciate your concern, but he really does need to rest."She sidestepped the staff and took Stephen's arm lightly, leading him across t
She drove back to the penthouse; a sense of relief washed over her as she finally felt in control of events, securing her family's safety and peace. As she parked the car, the city's lights glittered like scattered diamonds, contrasting strongly with the dark thoughts whirling in her mind.She took the elevator to the last floor: the penthouse. Softly chiming, the doors slid open, and she stepped out into the corridor, squaring her shoulders and smoothing her expression. She pushed open the door on Stephen and Ariane, who were sitting on the couch and could not have looked more content. Stephen was reading from some storybook, and Ariane had her head on his shoulder with her eyes shining in a gleam of happiness.A pang of guilt stabbed through Marianne, but she quashed it. This was necessary.Her mother, standing a ways to the side, turned to watch her enter. Her eyes swept the room, seeking. "Where's Yuna?" she asked. Her voice edged with unease."I've gotten rid of her," Marianne re
Stephen sat in the corner of a dimly lit café, staring out the window. He had sat there for hours, sipping cold coffee and watching the rain trickle down the glass. The café wasn't crowded-just a few people scattered about, lost in their conversations. His foot tapped impatiently under the table. Enoch was late. Very late. The waiter had been by twice, offering Stephen polite smiles, asking if he needed anything else. Each time, he waved him off, too intent on what was to come. His mind was reeling, questions, doubts, and a growing sense of frustration building inside him. Enoch was never this late. The doorbell above the entrance jingled, and Stephen looked up. His heart stopped at the sight of Enoch stepping inside, shaking rain from his coat. He glanced briefly around the room before his eyes fell upon Stephen, and he hastened to him, an apologetic smile on his face. "Sorry to have kept you waiting," Enoch said, reaching for the chair opposite of Stephen. Stephen did not sa
Stephen sat in the corner of a dimly lit café, staring out the window. He had sat there for hours, sipping cold coffee and watching the rain trickle down the glass. The café wasn't crowded-just a few people scattered about, lost in their conversations. His foot tapped impatiently under the table. Enoch was late. Very late. The waiter had been by twice, offering Stephen polite smiles, asking if he needed anything else. Each time, he waved him off, too intent on what was to come. His mind was reeling, questions, doubts, and a growing sense of frustration building inside him. Enoch was never this late. The doorbell above the entrance jingled, and Stephen looked up. His heart stopped at the sight of Enoch stepping inside, shaking rain from his coat. He glanced briefly around the room before his eyes fell upon Stephen, and he hastened to him, an apologetic smile on his face. "Sorry to have kept you waiting," Enoch said, reaching for the chair opposite of Stephen. Stephen did not say an
Stephen sat in the corner of a dimly lit café, staring out the window. He had sat there for hours, sipping cold coffee and watching the rain trickle down the glass. The café wasn't crowded-just a few people scattered about, lost in their conversations. His foot tapped impatiently under the table. Enoch was late. Very late. The waiter had been by twice, offering Stephen polite smiles, asking if he needed anything else. Each time, he waved him off, too intent on what was to come. His mind was reeling, questions, doubts, and a growing sense of frustration building inside him. Enoch was never this late. The doorbell above the entrance jingled, and Stephen looked up. His heart stopped at the sight of Enoch stepping inside, shaking rain from his coat. He glanced briefly around the room before his eyes fell upon Stephen, and he hastened to him, an apologetic smile on his face. "Sorry to have kept you waiting," Enoch said, reaching for the chair opposite of Stephen. Stephen did not say an
Stephen sat in the corner of a dimly lit café, staring out the window. He had sat there for hours, sipping cold coffee and watching the rain trickle down the glass. The café wasn't crowded-just a few people scattered about, lost in their conversations. His foot tapped impatiently under the table. Enoch was late. Very late.The waiter had been by twice, offering Stephen polite smiles, asking if he needed anything else. Each time, he waved him off, too intent on what was to come. His mind was reeling, questions, doubts, and a growing sense of frustration building inside him. Enoch was never this late.The doorbell above the entrance jingled, and Stephen looked up. His heart stopped at the sight of Enoch stepping inside, shaking rain from his coat. He glanced briefly around the room before his eyes fell upon Stephen, and he hastened to him, an apologetic smile on his face."Sorry to have kept you waiting," Enoch said, reaching for the chair opposite of Stephen.Stephen did not say anythi
Stephen stood by the door, watching as Victor’s car grew smaller in the distance. The rumble of the engine slowly faded, leaving nothing but the usual quiet that hung around the small neighborhood. He let out a breath, resting his hand on the doorframe. The last two months had been tough—tougher than he ever imagined.Without the system—the network of contacts and favors that once made his life easy—Stephen had to figure out a way to survive on his own. And it wasn’t glamorous. Every day was a grind, a constant scramble for enough money to cover the basics. Work wasn’t easy to come by, not when you’d burned as many bridges as he had. But he’d managed to find some odd jobs here and there—just enough to scrape by, though never enough to truly get ahead.He closed the door softly, the sound echoing through the small room. Glancing around the cramped space, he couldn’t help but think of the penthouse he once called home. The stark difference between his old life and this one weighed on hi
Stephen stood in the door and watched as Victor's car dwindled to a dot on the horizon. The rumble of the motor died out, leaving only the silent night air hovering over the little neighborhood. He exhaled a breath, his hand falling to rest on the doorframe. The last two months had been rough-tougher than he ever imagined.No system to fall back on now-the network of contacts and favors that oiled his life-Stephen was forced to scrounge some means of survival for himself. Not quite glamorous, the daily fight, the eternal hustle just for the real basics. Jobs were not easy to find, not when one had burned bridges as he had. But he'd been able to find odd jobs here and there, enough just to scrape by, never enough to get any further ahead.He closed the door behind him with a quiet click. The softness echoed inside the tiny room. Glancing around at the cramped quarters, his mind strayed to the penthouse he once called home. The stark dissimilarities between where his life used to be and
Two months later, Victor stared at the address on his phone, then at the small, run-down building in front of him. It didn’t look like a place Stephen would be living. The paint was peeling off the walls, and the grass in front was overgrown. This was far from the sleek, modern apartment Stephen used to own.Victor killed the engine, stepped out of his car, and walked toward the house. It was a self-contained unit—cheap, cramped, and barely enough for one person. He checked the address again. Room number 9. It matched. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.When he reached room 9, he knocked hard. The wood felt thin under his knuckles, like the door could break if he wasn’t careful. He knocked again, louder this time.After a moment, the door creaked open. Victor’s eyebrows shot up. Standing in front of him was Stephen, but he was almost unrecognizable. His hair was longer, his face covered with a scruffy beard, and he’d gained weight—his old sharp features now s
Standing beside Ariane's bed, his mind was spinning as he stared down at the screen of the system on his phone. His fingers trembling, he hit the icon for healing skills. He muttered under his breath, "Why can't this work on her? Why can't I save her?The system kept mum-no explanation, no solution. The shallow breathing of his daughter echoed in the room; every weak breath made him helpless. Stephen swallowed hard as his throat went dry. He could fix deals, he could manipulate numbers, but here in this hospital room, he was powerless.The door creaked open, and Stephen turned to see Enoch step in. Gone was Enoch's usual smug expression, replaced with a concerned frown. "What are you doing here?" Stephen's voice was low, edged with suspicion.Enoch shrugged, glancing over at Ariane. "Heard she was sick, so I decided to come by. How's she doing?"Stephen stared at him for a long moment, unsure of how to reply. His mind flashed back to his earlier doubts. Ariane wasn't his daughter, at
Stephen sat cross-legged on a soft mat, his eyes closed to focus on the calm voice of the guru. The air around him was scented with burning incense; a low hum of chanting echoed softly from the walls. He had called in the guru in a last-ditch effort to clear his mind, escape the relentless pull of the system. It had started to devour him, bit by bit, till it was all he could think of, all he could perceive.He was losing his grip, and he knew it.The guru's voice came, calm: "Breathe in. breathe out. let your thoughts flow like water. Do not cling to them."Stephen sucked in an enormous breath, then let it slowly out again, as if to expel everything at the same time: the market crash, the system, the deals that went right past him. The tension between him and Enoch was endless. He'd gotten pulled into something so much bigger than he was that he couldn't possibly control it himself, and however hard Stephen fought his way free of it, he felt ensnared.Then, though, as his breathing st