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From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 167. Live Video
Bianca had tried different ways to get Van's attention but all to no avail. It felt like no matter what she did, he was unmoved, almost like he couldn't even see her at all. And she hated that. She tried sending text messages but she didn't know if he had blocked her number or maybe he changed his but it didn't go through. She also couldn't go to his house because she had no idea where he lived currently. The only other way she could reach out to him was through social media, but either he wasn't active or he had blocked her there as well. So her last resort was this. If she couldn't reach him personally, then she might as well reach out to the whole world. If he didn't see it, surely someone around him will. As soon as the live video started, Bianca's face filled the screen, her eyes cast downward in a gesture of remorse. She took a deep breath before speaking, her voice trembling with emotion."Hello, everyone. I would like to apologize for my behavior at the restaurant the ot
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 168. A decision
Moses's face contorted into a deep frown as he stared at his phone. He groaned and tossed the device aside. "What's wrong?" Greg asked, noticing the change in his demeanor. "Bianca. She said she wants to see me, that it's important. If I'm being honest with you Greg, I'm done with this relationship.""Why? She did something again?""Are you seriously asking me that? What the hell is the meaning of that nonsense she posted online the other day? Asking that son of a bitch to see her, and I bet the bastard ignored her too!""Just listen to her, Moses," Greg urged. "You never know what she might have to say, it could actually be important."Moses sighed, but eventually agreed to meet with Bianca. They agreed to meet at L'amor Del Rosario, a first class restaurant popular for their steaks.Bianca was already seated when Moses arrived, sipping a glass of wine. She looked beautiful, there was no doubt about that. The beauty that attracted him to her from the start was still there but Moses
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 169. More Questions
Ivy's eyes widened in shock as Detective James told her about the mayor's kidnapping. This was getting out of hand."What do we do now?" Ivy asked, her heart racing with fear.Detective James' expression was grim. "We need to find out who's behind this and get the mayor back."Ivy nodded, her mind racing. She knew that she had to do something.As they arrived at the police station, Ivy could see the chaos. Police officers were running around, trying to coordinate a rescue mission.Ivy's eyes scanned the room, looking for someone to talk to. And then, she saw him. The police chief, standing in the corner, looking smug.Ivy's eyes narrowed, her mind racing. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be under arrest.As Ivy approached him, the police chief looked up, a sly smile spreading across his face. "Ivy, I see you're still trying to play hero," he said.Ivy's eyes flashed with anger. "What do you know about the mayor's kidnapping?" she demanded.The police chief shrugged. "I don't
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 170. Family Meeting
The Wilson and Hartley family had gathered at the Wilson's residence to discuss the upcoming wedding between Bianca and Moses. The event was delicate and needed lots of attention both in the physical and monetary aspect. The wedding was a whole lot more than just marriage between Moses and Bianca. It was a business contract between both fathers. A union between both mothers, though in this case, the Hartleys had a lot more to gain. Bianca's mother was busy scribbling notes on a pad as they discussed the guest list. "I think we should invite at least 100 people," she said, looking up at her husband for confirmation.Bianca's father nodded in agreement. "Yes, that's a good number. We want to make sure all our friends and family are there to celebrate."Moses's mother, Mrs. Wilson, looked concerned. "I'm not sure if we want that many guests," she said. "My husband and already have plans for twenty people from our side- all important personnels- and we were expecting something between th
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 171. Family Meeting II
Both families were stunned by his announcement, but the most surprised person in the room was Bianca, she had never expected him to actually say it. "Moses, what's going on?" Bianca's mother asked, her voice filled with concern. "Why are you calling off the wedding?""Are you surprised? I was just as surprised when she told she told me too." Moses's voice was calm and collected, but he knew his words would cut deep, especially Bianca's mother. "Out of desperation, I even offered to buy her a house on Venus island, anything to make her change her mind. She refused."When he said that, Bianca and her mother's jaw dropped, both for entirely different reasons."She told me she never loved me, and to be honest I knew that. I am well aware that she only agreed to date me because of what I had to give her, and I was okay with it. I guess I never imagined a day would come when she would get tired of me. "Moses, what are you talking about?" Bianca asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 172. The Comment
The family meeting ended terribly, with Moses's father kicking them out like they were beggars. “I want nothing to do with the Hartley family ever again!” He had declared in a loud voice. Bianca's parents complained and criticized her all the way home but she was less concerned. It was for the best. That was what kept ringing in her head. It was good the way things ended, after all she had never loved Moses, and since he said he was done with their relationship, she might as well find someone else who would be willing to spoil her the way she wanted. Then there was also Van. Bianca refused to believe that his feelings for her had vanished completely. That was impossible. What they had was different from a regular relationship, even though they hadn't tied the knot, they were already acting like a married couple. Van was always telling her how much he loved her and that he would do anything for her…and to some extent, he actually did. If only she had just left things the way they
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 173. A Hard Decision
Ivy paced back and forth in her dimly lit bedroom, her mind racing as the weight of the past few weeks pressed down on her. The soft hum of the city outside her window did little to soothe her nerves. It was late—too late—but sleep had become a stranger to her. Her mind kept returning to the same thoughts: the endless trail of deceit, the shocking revelations about the company she had worked so hard to build, and the people who had manipulated her life from the shadows.She had thought the detective's advice to stay home was logical at first, but now, in the silence of her room, it felt suffocating. How could she sit here, in the safety of her home, when everything around her seemed to be falling apart? There was a gnawing sense of guilt deep inside her, as if by hiding, she was putting her family in more danger. She should be doing something —anything— beyond waiting. But what? The police had their hands tied, and the deeper she dug, the more dangerous the situation became. The web
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 174. An Aunt??
Two days had passed since Ivy’s conversation with Van, and in that time, she had made a decision. The weight of it pressed down on her chest, but it felt necessary. She had to rid herself of the past, of the memory, of the complication. Van had told her to trust him, that things would get better, that she had a chance to start anew. At first, the idea had terrified her, but now it seemed like the only path forward. She was ready. Ready to take control of her life. When she walked into Van's office that morning, her expression was determined. He had been going over some papers, his focus entirely on the documents in front of him. He had not been expecting her. "I’m ready," she said simply, her voice steady. There was no hesitation in her words. “Ivy hey,” he raised his head from his work and smiled at her. He didn't have to ask before he understood what she meant by her statement. “You sure?” “Fairly.” He chuckled slightly at her response. He knew it wasn't easy to let go of some
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220. The Raid
The black SUV tore through the city streets, weaving between cars and running red lights.Rain slapped against the windshield in heavy sheets, turning the world into a blur of lights and shadows.Van sat in the passenger seat, jaw tight, fingers tapping a restless rhythm on his knee.Beside him, Keller drove like a man possessed, silent and focused.Carla sat in the back, double-checking the blueprints of the warehouse on her tablet."Franklin and Third," she muttered."Two floors. Old textile plant. Abandoned for years. No security cameras, no neighbors — perfect place to stash someone."Van’s stomach twisted.It was too perfect.He kept flashing back to Vance’s words: If they think you’re coming, they’ll move her—or worse.He couldn't afford to think about what worse meant.Not now.Not when they were this close.They arrived in less than fifteen minutes.The warehouse loomed out of the mist like a dead thing — gray, crumbling, windows shattered, rust eating through the metal doors.
219. Confession
The air inside the van was thick with tension.Julian Vance sat slumped against the wall, wrists cuffed to a metal ring bolted to the floor.The blindfold was gone, but fear had carved deep lines into his face.Sweat soaked through his shirt despite the cold night air.Across from him, Van leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, studying him like a puzzle that needed solving.Keller sat beside Van, silent and looming, while Carla hovered near the door, tablet in hand, recording everything.No one spoke for a long moment.They let the fear do its work first.Vance fidgeted, his eyes darting from face to face, looking for a crack, a kindness.He found none.Finally, Keller broke the silence."You know who we are," he said calmly."You know why you’re here."Vance licked his lips."I—I’m just an accountant," he stammered."I don’t know anything."Keller smiled thinly."You know enough to get yourself killed. Or saved. Your choice."Vance’s hands twisted in the cuffs."I can’t," he whisper
218. The Aftermath
The night was soaked in the heavy stench of gunpowder and rain.Sirens howled in the distance — getting closer — but Agent Keller’s team moved fast.They swept the abandoned lot, securing what little evidence Moses had left behind: a few casings, tire tracks gouged deep into the mud, a broken phone.It wasn’t enough.Moses had disappeared like a phantom into the night, and worse — he had seen through the setup.Van had barely made it out alive.Inside the mobile command van, Keller slammed his fist against the table."Someone tipped him off," he growled."There’s no way he walked into that meeting with backup unless he knew we were coming."Carla sat beside Van, wrapping a makeshift bandage around his bleeding arm.Her hands were steady, but her face was grim.Van winced as the gauze tightened, but he barely felt the pain.His mind was somewhere else.A traitor.Someone inside their circle.Someone who had sold them out to Moses.Keller paced furiously, barking orders into his radio,
217. The Hunt
The plan was simple on paper.Simple, but dangerous.Van stood at the cracked concrete window of a forgotten motel room on the edge of the city, watching the rain smear the world into gray blurs.Inside the room, Agent Keller was setting up equipment — laptops, burner phones, tiny recorders the size of coins — while Carla scribbled notes furiously into a weathered notebook.Van’s nerves hummed under his skin.He wasn’t a cop.He wasn’t a spy.He was just a man trying to survive.And now, somehow, he was about to help bring down one of the most powerful men in the city."Here’s the plan," Keller said, pulling Van’s attention back.He laid out a rough blueprint of the next 48 hours:Van would reach out to Moses — casual, non-threatening — suggest a meeting under the pretense of "burying the hatchet."Offer him information.Play on his paranoia.The idea was to draw Moses out.Get him somewhere isolated.Somewhere they could grab him without witnesses.If they could catch Moses talking —
216. Warehouse Meeting
Van’s mind was spinning as he approached the dilapidated warehouse by the docks.The wind whipped at his coat, the sound of waves crashing against the concrete pier mixing with the distant hum of city traffic.This place had once been a hub of activity, a center of trade and industry.Now, it was just a hollow skeleton, abandoned and forgotten.Perfect.It was the kind of place where you could disappear without a trace.Van approached cautiously, his footsteps echoing in the empty street.The docks were deserted at this hour, save for a few stray cats rummaging through trash.No sign of anyone watching.But he knew better than to assume that meant safety.They were out there.Someone was always watching.His fingers brushed against the rough stone of the warehouse’s exterior as he rounded the corner.A single light flickered above the entrance, casting long, crooked shadows.A thick metal door was ajar, just enough to let him slip inside.Van hesitated for a moment, then pushed it ope
215. Late Warning
The city looked different in the dead of night.From the back of the taxi, Van saw it all pass in a blur — the glimmering skyline, the fog rolling across the river, the endless rows of apartments stacked up like cheap cardboard boxes.But it was the shadows he saw most clearly.The places where people hid their sins.Van rubbed his fingers over the cracked screen of Bianca’s phone.The evidence was still fresh in his mind — too fresh. The videos, the photos, the recordings.He hadn’t even begun to process it all.But he couldn’t stop now.He couldn’t let them win.The taxi rolled to a stop at the airport’s long-term parking lot.Van didn’t get out.Instead, he stared through the windshield at the flickering terminal lights, his thoughts spiraling.Was this it?Was he about to leave everything behind?Ivy, the kids, his life as he knew it?He couldn’t.He wouldn’t.But he also couldn’t stay.He needed allies.Van stepped out of the taxi and paid the driver in cash before walking throug
214. Secrets
Van didn’t go straight home. He knew better. If they were watching him — and after tonight, he was sure of it — bringing danger to Ivy and the kids would be unforgivable. Instead, he drove to a cheap motel on the edge of town, the kind of place nobody asked questions and the cameras were either broken or faked. The neon VACANCY sign buzzed weakly against the rain-soaked sky as Van pulled into the lot. Room 12 smelled like mold and old cigarettes, but it had a lock on the door and curtains thick enough to block the world out. For now, that was enough. He locked the door, jammed a chair under the knob, and dumped the soaked backpack on the stained mattress. He pulled out Bianca’s phone with trembling hands. Still wet. Still cracked. Still hers. Van sat down heavily and got to work. First step: dry the phone. He stripped it carefully, removing the battered SIM card and the microSD tucked into the side. Both small enough to fit in his wallet. He left the phone shell near
213. Hidden Tunnels
The marina was deserted. The storm had driven everyone indoors, and the usual hum of yacht engines and tourist chatter was replaced by the howl of the wind against steel masts. Boats bobbed violently in the dark water, their ropes creaking like dying animals. Van parked three blocks away and approached on foot, keeping to the shadows. The piece of paper with the coordinates was damp in his pocket, but he had already memorized them. The entrance to the old service tunnels wasn’t easy to find. Most people didn’t even know they existed — relics from when the marina had been part of a naval shipyard decades ago. Now, the city had simply built over them, sealing the past under concrete and forgetting. But Van remembered. His father had worked the shipyards once, before everything went wrong. He found the access point tucked behind a rusted utility shed — a heavy steel hatch, half-hidden by tangled vines. He tugged at the handle. Locked. Van gritted his teeth, pulled a crowbar
212. Meeting In The Rain
The storm didn’t let up.It pounded the city in thick, angry sheets, flooding gutters, choking the storm drains, turning alleyways into rivers of filth.Van watched it from the living room window, one hand curled around a cold cup of coffee.He hadn’t slept.He couldn’t.Not with the bloody scrap locked away in his desk drawer.Not with Ivy pretending everything was fine for the kids’ sake.At 2:37 a.m., his phone buzzed again.Unknown Number.Van snatched it up.A text this time.MEET ME.PARKER’S GARAGE. 4AM. COME ALONE.No signature.No instructions.But Van already knew he was going.★★★Parker’s Garage was an old, abandoned auto shop on the east side, gutted years ago after a fire.Van remembered it from his teenage years — a place where kids would go to drink, fight, and hide from the world.He drove through the drowned streets, headlights cutting through the rain like a blade.The city felt deserted, haunted.Every instinct told him this was a trap.He went anyway.He pulled up
