The footsteps upstairs became louder, and Charles began to pound. The officers coiled, poised to pounce. Out from one of the darkened corners, a small black cat emerged. Its eyes glinted as it slinked down the stairs, and at that moment, the tension in the room broke like a dam as relieved glances passed from one officer to another. "It's just the cat," one mumbled, the edge in his voice softening as he sheathed his weapon. A second officer, edging his way along the wall toward the staircase, relaxed his posture, a grin tugging at his lips. That was the opening Charles needed to force a nonchalant shrug. "What did I tell you? She isn't here," he said, keeping his tone steady, though inside, a flood of relief crashed through him. Yuna was safe, at least for now. "Fine. But we're taking you outside. If we find out you've been lying…" He pushed roughly at Charles's back toward the door, leaving the threat hanging. They were all leaving the mansion, when one officer—a younger, more
**Two Weeks Later**The darkness smothered the cell, weight upon weight, and pressed down on Stephen lying on the cold, damp floor. The suit, once so sharp, hung in rags from his now-gaunt frame. His stomach rumbled with hunger, but he gave no heed to the feeling—he hadn't eaten for days. Yesterday's tray of food sat untouched, just like the ones that had preceded it.The door creaked, and a line of poor light sliced through the darkness. A dark figure moved in, slinging down another tray of food onto the floor, spilling it inches from Stephen's feet."Eat up, you loser," the man mocked in an abusive tone. He sniggered wickedly at him as he slammed the door shut behind his back; the noise resounded around the cell.Stephen groaned, trying to heave himself up, his muscles protesting the unaccustomed exercise. Pain shot through his body, but gritting his teeth, he forced himself upright. The darkness seemed more oppressive than ever as he finally managed to stand, swaying slightly, prop
With each ever-nearing step to Yuna, Ariane's heart pounded so hard, and her mind swirled so quickly in confusion and disbelief, "Yuna," she hissed lowly, glaringly, "where you are doing this from?"In the morning light, the slight form of Yuna appeared even more delicate; her clothes looked as if they belonged to someone else, hanging on a person who was not there. Yet there was something in her eyes that was resolute: a quiet, unyielding strength, really not in keeping with her frail look. "I need your help, Ariane," said Yuna, her voice firm but shaking.Ariane almost laughed; the sound that passed her lips was harsh and unbelieving. "Why would I help you?" she demanded, scathing now, in her bitterness. "You're just a dirty little thing—always in the way. Why do you keep coming back?"Yuna winced at the jab, but she didn't retreat. Her eyes clung to Ariane's, desperation in their intensity. "I have to talk to Mrs. Marriane," she persisted, her voice a little more steady now, though
Warm light from the evening fell on the hotel when Marriane stopped the sleek black car in front of the grand hotel. She turned to Ariane, who had been sitting quietly all along beside her and now frowned with a creased forehead."What is it, Ariane?" Marriane asked softly but probing.Ariane shook her head, forcing a smile. "Nothing, Mom. I'm fine."Marriane narrowed her eyes slightly as she picked that something was amiss. "If you wish to share anything, feel free to."Ariane clasped and unclasped the seat belt tightly. "I said it's nothing, Mom," she said, trying to modulate her voice.Marriane let out a sigh and held her eyes on her daughter a second longer before she opened the car door. "Alright, but remember, I'm here if you need me."As Marriane walked inside the hotel, she clicked her shoes against the pavement and Ariane unwittingly released the breath she was holding. She got out of the car fast and ran towards the trunk. Her heart was pounding.She opened the boot to find
Marriane drove through the city streets, her mind racing as fast as the car beneath her. It was dark, and the night was light only from the streetlamps, flickering as she went by them. The grip on the steering wheel tightened, her knuckles white. She just had to know what Clarke wanted and had to do it now.But when she reached the car park, it was ominously quiet. The lot was practically empty; the few cars that were around were strewn about like lost antiquities. She parked the car in one spot, turned off the engine, and stepped out of the car, the cool night air brushing against her skin.Clarke stood near the edge of the filthy lot, his body outlined by the dull light like a shadow. Mariann squinted her eyes, pupils lessening in diameter, as she walked closer, her heels tapping the ground in individual thunks of the blistering asphalt."I thought we agreed no more meetings," she snapped, voice chillingly low. "What the hell are you doing here?"Clarke lifted his hands into the air
Stephen stood there, eyes riveted to Victor, as his mind grappled with what he was seeing. The man who should be lying in his grave was living, breathing, and everything was changed because of that fact.Victor advanced a step closer; his face was impassive. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Stephen."Stephen swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. "I thought. Charles.he killed youIt was a low soft chuckle, almost amused, from Victor. "That was the plan, Stephen. It was the only way to fool Clarke."---**Flashback**Victor was in a dim room with his only light a barely flickering bulb, which exposed the place above his head. In front of him sat Charles, who slowly hunched over toward Victor while speaking in a low, drawn voice, "You just have to pretend like you are dead, Victor. Pretend and fool Clarke into thinking that you are out of the way."Victor raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "I expected as much from Clarke, but what's in it for you, Charles?"Charles le
The morning filtered through the penthouse windows. Pieces of modern furniture smothered with the same warm hue. She was already dressed in a silk-tied suit which complemented her form. She moved briskly inside the penthouse living room; she balanced her bag around her shoulder and checked the slim clock on one side of the wall. Maybe Ariane must have been in her room or maybe still asleep. She sighed, raising her card from the table of glasses."Just in case you need anything, Ariane, my card's on the table!" she called out, briskly determined but keeping her distance."Okay, Mom!" came the muffled reply from within, and Marriane nodded at the sound, glad enough for a small response. She didn't have time to stand there much longer; the empire needed her presence, and she was already running late."Bye!" she added, more on formalities than a real attempt at a conversation. It had her barely blink before she steamed off toward the elevator.The door opened and Mariamne confronted the h
For a moment, Ariane's mind went blank, and she was seized by fear. She was feeling Yuna's grip tightening on her arm but could not understand how to wriggle out. His eyes were sharp, and it was obvious that the manager expected his way to be explained."I. we. ," said Ariane, struggling.The manager flicked his gaze to Yuna and something seemed to shift within his expression. His eyes narrowed slightly, as if he was trying to piece it together.Yuna swallowed hard, stepping forward slightly. "We were just—"The manager widened her eyes in surprise as recognition flooded them Yuna's face. A slow, almost sad smile crossed his face as he glanced between her and Ariane. He knew what they were trying to do."You're trying to leave, aren't you?" he said, his voice calm yet edged with the weight of what he was supposed to do.Ariane's heart raced. "Please," she whispered, desperation thick in her voice. "We need to find out what happened to my dad." The expression on the manager's face see
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