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From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 29. Elaine
Elaine decided to go shopping to clear her mind. She hadn't been able to get Van out of her mind. To think that he would boldly turn down the offer to marry a woman like her, and in front of people too! The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. What did Ivy have that she didn't? Was it beauty? She was very beautiful, and she wasn't just praising herself. Different companies had approached her with various offers for her to become the face of their products. She had even reached the top five of most beautiful woman every year for three years in a row. Was it intellect?She graduated at the top of her class in highschool and college. Her father was always commending her on how she was doing a good job managing his business. She had even come up with some ideas that fetched millions for her father's business. Or was it wealth? It was no secret that her family was filthy rich. And everything her parents owned also belonged to her. Plus, she could say that she helped in gett
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 30. Family
After getting their outfits and jeweleries, they were done. They got a taxi all the way back to Oakland and made their way to Ivy's residence. When they got there, Van suddenly started to feel nervous, like he was going for a job interview or auditioning for a movie role. He cleared his throat as he knocked on her door. A couple of seconds later, the door was opened and behind it, a little girl with a few missing teeth smiled at him. "Are you my daddy?" She asked, a confused expression on her face. "Yes. Yes I am." Van replied with a soft smile. "Mommy! Mommy!! It's daddy, daddy's here." She announced with an enthusiastic excitement, running from the front door over to Ivy and back. "Daddy?" A little boy stared at Van, and tears began streaming down his face. "Is daddy going to get a hug?" Van went down on his knees and opened his arms, hoping the kids didn't actually hate him for not being around all those years. Taking one cautious step after the other, both kids approached h
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 31. Heavenly Wears
"What?" Ivy had to take a minute to fully understand what Van said. "You…you want to take the kids with you?" She asked. She knew what he meant but she just wanted to be sure. "No, of course not. I want all of us to live together. You and the kids, me and my mom …as a family. I already asked someone to contact an agent and when there's an available place, we can go and check it together.""So …you want to live with me.""Yes. Don't take this the wrong way, this isn't me asking you out." He explained. "Oh." Ivy didn't know why but she felt disappointed when he said that. He seemed to notice too because he quickly added. "Not that I'm not going to ask you out– I mean, I'm not going to ask you out if you don't want —what I'm trying to say is this. I want us to bond as a family. I want to spend as much time as I can with the kids, and I also want to spend time with you. I want to get to know you better, I want to be your friend…and if our relationship blooms more than that, being your
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 32. A Plot
Van proposed they went to a nearby restaurant or cafe so they could talk more without interruptions, but during the taxi ride Ivy was as quiet as a mute. Even after they arrived at the cafe, she said nothing. Five minutes passed. Then ten, still she was silent. Her arms were folded underneath her chest and her gaze never left the window next to their table. Van had initially wanted to start up a conversation but he got distracted when he stared at her. Ivy was really beautiful, everything about her was elegant and classy. The way she carried herself, the way she talked and acted. Everything about her was perfect. She was putting on a loose fitted t-shirt and a pair of jeans but her curves were still visible. Her current sitting position caused her round boobs to pop up, and Van couldn't take his eyes off her. Watching the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breathed slowly was a sight that provoked him sexually. "You're very beautiful." He whispered softly and Ivy turned to fa
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 33. A Bride By Force
The distance between Van and Ivy kept growing, and he didn't know what he was supposed to do about it. He had asked her out on a date a few days ago, in an attempt to talk to her but she turned him down. That particular morning, they had had a fight because she said he was showing up around her kids too much. "Your kids? What happened to co parenting??" Van had demanded angrily and unfortunately for him, it didn't sit well with her. "So what? You show up five years after I've been through hell on my own and you feel like you have some kind of fatherly claim on them? Well no, you don't!I raised them on my own, and I can keep doing it without your help. Okay?!!""What has gotten into you Ivy? Why are you acting this way?""Like a crazy woman? Is that what you mean?""This isn't you.""It isn't? Why don't you tell me who I am then?" Ivy didn't know why but no matter how much she tried calming down, she would remember that Van was only using her and her anger would spike again. "I'm
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 34. New Home
The next morning, Elaine posted it on her social media accounts that she was getting engaged soon. Within the space of an hour, her post already got more than a million likes and comment. People were asking who the lucky man was and when the wedding would take place. One of the top comments was probably from a friend or acquaintance because it addressed her more casually. The person told her to show real proof or else they would conclude that she was just lying to gain attention. Elaine liked that particular comment and responded by saying her proof would be dropping soon.Van immediately knew the post was about him. He started to wonder what kind of proof she was talking about. His mind went to Ivy and he quickly dashed out of his mother's house, running to her place. With the way things were between them, if Ivy saw such a post on the internet, she would no doubt be suspicious of everything he had said and the promises he made to her. When he finally arrived at her apartment, he
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 35. Venus Island
Ivy wished she could live in a house as beautiful as the castle was. Not only would it earn her more respect among the society, people would definitely see her like she was a whole lot more rich than they had thought. But alas, not all wishes were granted. Or at least that was what she thought. "Van, a word please?" She led him to another part of the house so it would be just the two of them. "What are you doing?" She demanded. She wasn't angry, she just couldn't believe it. "What do you mean?""What do I mean? Van, do you have any idea how much this place would cost?""Yeah but if this is going to be our forever home, won't you think we should go for the best?""And how about the rent? How are we going to take care of that?""Rent? There's no need for that. I was never looking for rentals to begin with, I'm buying the place."Ivy's jaw dropped in utter shock. "B-buying the place?" Was that even possible? All the residents of Venus island lived in rentals. The owner of the estate
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 36. The Fisherman
It was a cold morning, much colder than it had been the remaining days of the week. Van had woken up extra early to prepare breakfast in anticipation of the arrival of his family. It was going to be their first day living together. Their first day as a family, and he wanted to make it right. He and his mother had nothing of value to take so other than the clothes they had on, and the one they wore on their first day at Ivy's house, they took nothing else with them. Van realized that he had forgotten to ask what each of their prefrence was so he decided to make everything he knew kids loved to eat for breakfast. While he was setting the table, he heard a ding from his phone. Checking it, he saw that he had a message from Elaine. 'Good morning. I hope you're ready.'He didn't fully understand what her text meant but he knrw it couldn't be something good. She still hadn't posted anything about the proof she said she had about their engagement, so maybe that was what she was talking a
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231. The Storm
The door to the warehouse banged open, hard enough that everyone inside jumped.Carla spun, gun raised. Boyd was already halfway out of his chair, reaching for his own piece.Then they saw him.Van. He staggered inside. Blood streaked down one temple, jacket torn, eyes wild. Breathing like he’d outrun death itself."Jesus Christ," Carla gasped, lowering her gun."Van—"But he was already collapsing against the wall, sliding down, chest heaving. The door creaked shut behind him, sealing the dark back in.Louisa dropped the flash drive she’d been clutching for hours and ran to him. "Are you—are you hit?"Van waved her off, voice raw. "Not shot. Just… tired of running."Boyd knelt, grabbing his shoulder hard. "Talk to me. What happened? Did the deal go bad?"Van laughed — harsh, bitter, humorless. "Wasn’t a deal. Was a damn execution waiting to happen. Ramos sold me out to Barron’s people. Seven men with guns. All set to take me in — or take me out."Dan groaned from his corner, cradling
230. Midnight Deal
The night swallowed him whole. Van moved like a shadow through the back alleys, boots silent against cracked pavement. No headlights. No noise, just the hush of a city holding its breath.The old mill loomed ahead — dead and forgotten.Rust covered the walls like rot, windows smashed out years ago.But tonight, it was alive again. Lights burned inside. Dim. Yellow. Flickering.Van’s gut clenched, there were too many lights.Too many cars parked just out of sight.He checked his pistol — loaded, safety off.One extra mag in his jacket.Not much.But it would have to do.He stepped through the busted gate, every nerve tight.His contact — Ramos — stood near the loading dock, arms folded, a cigarette glowing in his hand."Van," Ramos greeted, voice rough. Like gravel chewed up in a blender. "You actually came.Didn’t think you had the stones anymore."Van kept his face blank. "Let’s skip the warm-up.You got the guns?"Ramos shrugged. "You got the cash?"Van tossed a duffel bag at his fe
229. Regrouping
The sedan rolled to a stop at the docks, wheels crunching over loose gravel.The old warehouse loomed ahead — rusted, half-abandoned, but still standing.Safehouse Two.For now.Van was the first out, scanning the shadows.Nothing moved but the water lapping against the pilings.It was good... for now.Boyd staggered out next, coughing from the smoke that still clung to his lungs.He looked back at the road, half expecting black SUVs to come roaring around the bend.None yet.But he knew it was only a matter of time. They all did. Inside the warehouse, Carla flicked the light switch. Nothing. It was obvious that power was long dead here.She cursed and grabbed the old lantern from the shelf, sparking weak yellow light into the gloom. "Great. We’re living like rats now," she muttered.Dan slumped against a wall, wincing as he peeled back the bloody cloth from his arm. The wound was deeper than he let on but no one had time to properly check on him yet. Louisa stood frozen in the midd
228. Counterstrike
The first sign came quiet. Too quiet.Carla’s laptop froze mid-search.The screen flickered once, then died.She cursed under her breath, smacking the side."That’s not normal," she muttered.But by the time she turned to call Van, the lights in the safehouse cut out too.Dark.Total dark.Van's instincts snapped awake.He grabbed Boyd by the collar, yanked him back from the window."Down. Now."A second later, the glass exploded inward — a single sniper round carving through where Boyd’s head had been.Dan was already rolling for the back door, weapon drawn.But he barely made it two steps before the walls shuddered — an explosion outside, close enough to rattle the whole building."They're here!" Dan bellowed."Barron's men — they’re hitting us now!"Louisa screamed, clutching the flash drive like it was her last tether to life.Carla grabbed her arm, dragging her toward the back.Her voice was sharp but tight with fear."Move! Go! Go!"Van grabbed the rifle from under the couch — o
227. The Leak
By dawn, the first leak was already live.A small, half-forgotten blog out of Riverside — City Watchdog — dropped the bomb.No flashy headlines. No screaming sirens.Just cold facts: financial records, timestamps, and the name of a sitting state senator wired half a million from one of Barron’s shell companies.No context. No accusation, just enough to light the fuse.Van watched the post go viral in real time.At first, nobody cared. Then, somewhere around seven AM, a bigger account picked it up — a political gossip page with just enough clout to make people squint.By noon, national blogs were calling it "The Slush Fund Scandal."At around two PM, the senator’s office released a frantic denial.That’s when Van knew they’d drawn blood.Boyd let out a bark of laughter when the news hit the TV in the safehouse."Look at them squirm! Man, they thought they were gods. Now they’re crying on camera like school kids who were caught cheating."Dan just grunted, never looking away from the wi
226. The Accountant's Secret
The safehouse smelled like old coffee and fear when Louisa Martin finally showed up.She came alone, wrapped in a cheap raincoat two sizes too big, hair hidden under a beanie.Her eyes darted everywhere — ceiling corners, dark windows, even the cracks in the floor like they might bite her.Van watched her quietly from across the room, arms folded.She looked nothing like the sharp financial shark Keller described.This woman was frayed at the edges, like someone who hadn’t slept properly in months.Keller made the introductions. "Louisa. This is Van. Van — Louisa."Louisa’s voice was brittle as glass. "I know who he is."Her eyes flicked to Van, then away again like looking at him too long might get her killed.Van didn’t bother with small talk, time was blood now. "You worked for Barron, that means you know where the bodies are buried. You talk — I make sure you stay breathing.You stay quiet — and you’ll be next on his list."Louisa’s laugh was short and humorless."Sweetheart, I’ve
225. Next Move
By mid-morning, Van couldn’t step outside without seeing his own face staring back from every screen.Some called him a vigilante.Others spat the word criminal like poison.But the city was buzzing, and Barron’s name was finally dragged through the dirt alongside his own.Van didn’t care about the headlines. He cared about the numbers Carla showed him — accounts traced, shell companies linked, wires exposed like raw nerves.Money. That’s where they would cut next.She tapped the screen, her nail chipped and trembling slightly."See this? Phoenix Holdings. Looks clean on the outside, but dig deeper and it’s washing Barron’s trafficking money through luxury imports. Art, watches, cars—hell, probably gold toilets for his mansion."Van grunted. His mind wasn’t on art.It was on Lenny, still fighting for his life three floors up."You said we could burn him financially. How?"Carla smirked, but it didn’t reach her eyes. She looked as tired as he felt."We leak it. Quiet first — to the rig
224. First Blood
The attack came at dawn.Silent. Surgical. Cruel.Lenny never saw it coming. He was stepping out of his apartment, headed to meet Van at the old mill, when the van screeched up.Three men in black masks.No words — just steel pipes and fists.Neighbors heard the commotion but kept their doors shut.Everyone knew better. When Barron’s men came calling, you looked away.By the time the van peeled off, Lenny lay in a broken heap, blood pooling beneath his head.His niece’s picture, which he always carried in his pocket, fluttered to the ground, soaked red.★★★Van got the call an hour later.Nora's voice shook."They nearly killed him, Van. Lenny’s in ICU. Skull fractures, broken ribs. They meant to send a message."Van stood frozen in the middle of Keller’s living room, heart pounding like a war drum.Carla looked up from her laptop, face pale."This is escalation. Barron’s going full scorched earth now. If we don’t hit back hard—"Van was already moving.★★★At the hospital, Lenny lay
223. Raising An Army
Van’s phone buzzed just past midnight, it was an unknown number but he answered without hesitation.A familiar voice, rough and low, crackled through."You said if we ever wanted payback, we should call. Well, we’re calling."It was Lenny — an old cellmate from the prison days. A man who’d lost his niece to the same trafficking chain Bianca had just escaped.Van’s chest tightened."Where are you?""Abandoned mill off 43rd Street. And we’re not alone."Van grabbed his jacket and keys.This was the sign he’d been waiting for.★★★The mill was a ruin of rust and cracked windows, but inside, the air was electric.Dozens of faces turned when Van stepped in.Ex-cons, street runners and women with haunted eyes — survivors of Barron’s network.At the front stood Lenny, his massive arms crossed over his chest. Beside him, a thin woman with a scar along her jaw — Nora, who had once testified and then vanished from public sight.Van took it in: a gathering of the discarded and the damned.People
