"Winona has been kidnapped," Margaret announced to her family with trembling voixe, shattering their world. A sense of panic permeated the air in the hused and opulent halls of the Willow Creek. Madame Ofelia was overcome with shock and disbelief, her fail hands flying to her mouth as a gasp of horror escaped her. In a moment of unbearable anguis, she lost consciousness. Her body slumping lifelessly onto the plush chair behind her. While the sibling faced each other, their faces etched with unspoken emotions. A thick silence hung in the air, suffocating them both. "William? How could you let this happen??" Margaret's voice broke the stillness, her words laced with accusation. William's eyes narrowed, a flicker of anger igniting within him. "Margaret, don't blame me. You were too busy running your precious company to take care of your sister.""Excuse me??" Margaret retorted, incredulous. "As if I have no other responsibilities besides that?! You should have been watching over her
The massive iron gates swung open, revealing the sprawling manicured grounds and the stately Ravenstone mansion as the sleek limousine pulled up to the main entrance, George Logan Thompson, took a deep breath before stepping out. Henry's heart raced because he had been gone for several days as George Thompson, he was worried that Mr. Howard might starting to notice his unusual behavior with his dual identities. A tall, slender man with a receding hairline and a piercing gaze greeted him. It was Mr. Nolan Howard, the butler. "Young Master!" Mr. Howard said, his voice as smooth as polished granite. "It is an unexpected pleasure to see you return. We have been informed that you're involved with rescuing the young Wellington." "Yes, yes, Howard. They needed my help so I helped them and thankfully we saved Winona Wellington." George answered.Mr. Howard raised an inquisitive eyebrow, 'I am glad to hear that, Young Master. However I noticed your seem attached to the Wellington, and is it
Henry Franklin Constantine nervously sat in his seat at the wedding of his friend, Prosecutor Tristan Morris at the White House. It was held at the grand east room of the prestigious White House. He shifted uncomfortably as he scanned the room, feeling out of place among the wealthy and powerful guests who surrounded him. Henry couldn't help but feel a twinge of shame as he overheard the whispers and stairs aimed in his direction. "How did he earned his invitation?" he heard one guest mutter, nodding in his direction, "He's the son-in-law of the Wellington family who ruined the precious cake at the Royal Event.""I wonder why he's here, though, he looks completely out of place here," another commented, causing a flush of embarrassment to rise in Henry's cheeks."I heard he brings misfortune wherever he goes," said a woman who was a famous fashion designer.Just as he was about to consider making a discreet exit, Tristan appeared at his side, clapping a hand on his shoulder, "Henry,
After the horrific terrorist attack on the wedding on the White House, the sorrow and rage engulfed the prosecutor Tristan Morris because his beloved wife was tragically killed leaving an unfillable void in his life. "They took everything from me. I have to make them pay." Tristan was furious. "Tris, we need to be careful." Henry cautioned. "The CIA is already investigating this. We can't do anything that might jeopardize their work." Henry knew Tristan's pain all too well, but he also sensed a dangerous undercurrent in his determination. "The CIA??" Tristan scoffed. "They're too slow, too bureaucratic. They'll take forever to get anything done. I need to take matters into my own hands." Despite Henry's concerns, he couldn't shake the feeling that Tristan was right. The CIA had been dragging its feet for months, and the terrorists responsible for the attack remained at large. "Alright, Tris," Henry said reluctantly,"but we need to be methodical and discredit. We can't risk getting
Henry returned as George Thompson to visit Ravenstone where he found Tristan Morris, his cousin, sitting alone in the living room, staring blankly at the wall."Tris," George said softly, walking over to him and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.Tristan looked up at him with puffy, red eyes, a testament to the tears he had shed for his beloved wife."I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you," George apologized. "I can't imagine the pain you must be feeling right now.""It's an unbearable pain, and it's killing me," Tristan replied. George could hear the anguish in his voice, and he didn't know how to make it better."I know that whatever I say won't lessen the pain you feel," George said, sitting down next to Tristan. "But I promise you, we will find those responsible and make them pay for what they did.""And how?" Tristan asked, his voice hard.George hesitated for a moment, unsure how to proceed. "The President has created a private task force to seek revenge against the terrori
President Gibson Dewey and Colonel Frederick Harris huddled with their selected group of trusted operatives, strategizing the most perilous mission of their careers. Operation Phoenix, a covert task force tasked with haunting down and eliminating the elusive terrorist known as THE SERPENT. And they are about to embark on a daring expedition into the heart of Syria. George Thompson, Prosecutor Tristan Morris, and other officers surrounded the long table to listen to the information from the president who was standing near the screen."We have intelligence that the Serpents is planning an imminent attack on American soil," The president pointed at the picture, "We cannot allow these monsters to strike again." Harris nodded grimly, "The situation is dire, Mr. President. The Serpent is a deadly terrorist with operatives scattered across the globe. But we already have assembled a team of the most elite operatives to bring them to justice."Harris nodded grimly. "The situation is dire, Mr
Henry Constantine exhaled a sigh of relief when his clandestine mission as billionaire George Thompson had been a success. The elusive terrorist organization known as the serpents had been neutralized and their leader Omar Farouk was now in custody. "Nova, report status," Henry commanded, initiated a secure communication with Nova, residing within the Quantum Reverie's intricate circuitry. "Quantum Reverie systems are operating within acceptable parameters," Nova responded in a synthetic voice. "Battery power is currently at 12%. It is recommended that you initiate a recharge cycle at your earliest convenience.""Okay, thanks Nova. I'm glad I can rest." Henry was standing outside the Ravenstone, hesitating to enter because he don't know how to communicate with Tristan Morris after he disappears again to change into another identity."Henry, where have you been?" He was surprised to see Mr. Howard."Oh, good day, Mr. Howard! I just want to visit you and Tristan." "You don't have to v
"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," George voice echoed in the opulent boardroom of the company, his piercing gaze sweeping the room. The board members clad in impeccably tailored suits, sat in hushed anticipation. "Before we commence are usual agenda, I wish to address a matter of a grave importance."A ripple of unease spread through the room as George paced before the massive mahogany table. "Senator Abigail Harrison, a vocal critic of oir company's practices, has leveraged her political influence to introduce legislation targeting AI solutions," he announced. A chorus of concerned murmurs erupted. "She accuss us of monopolistic behavior amd tax evasion. These allegations are not only baseless but also jeopardize our company's operations and reputation." George continued. "George, this is a serious matter. We need to advise a strategy to counter Senator Harrison's attack." said by the board chairman, Roland Balfour, a wizened old man known for his shrewd intellect."Indeed." G