2024-10-15 15:33:27
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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
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 37. The Truth
Van was in an unfamiliar surrounding but for some reason, it felt like he had been there before. He walked around the building for a while before he spotted a familiar face. Picking up his pace, he chased after the little boy and ended up in an open field. The little boy walked up to another kid and even though Van didn't know who they were, he felt like it was his memory, like he had been there with them. He noticed a man in a black suit walk out of a parked car and headed towards both boys. "No," Van didn't know why but he could tell that the man was a bad person. "Hey boys, how are you doing today?" He asked when he got to where they were. "Who are you?" The younger boy asked. "I'm your uncle, and I'm here to take you home. But first, you have to do something for me." The man explained with a menacing smile. "Andrew, I don't like this man. Let's go play somewhere else." The younger boy tried to urge his brother but he wouldn't listen. The man handed both boys a gun and tol
From Prison Bars To Gold Bars. 38. Partial Memory Loss
"After my husband and I got married, we tried to have kids but our efforts were never crowned. Two years passed, then three, then five, and still I couldn't have a child of my own. I was really desperate to have a little one running around the house, so I suggested we adopt a child. When we arrived at the orphanage, I immediately fell in love with you. It was obvious that you were going through some things because you wouldn't talk, and the workers at the orphanage said your brother was adopted before you and it made you upset. Eventually, my husband and I were able to convince you and we all went home together. Van, I am really, truly sorry that I never told you about this. I guess I was always so afraid that one day you were going to leave in search of your real parents and leave me all alone." She covered her face with her hands, sobbing quietly. "I wasn't a baby when you adopted me, so why on earth can't I remember anything about my childhood?" That part was still a mystery t
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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
