“Oh, Nathan Reed. You have lost, why can you not see this? Huh? You have lost everything, including your sister. You think she was joking when she said she could shoot you?” Donald’s tone became more threatening and serious. Nathan scoffed. “Lies!” Donald scoffed back, stretched out his hand, and his guard standing beside him reached for the pistol in his coat and handed it over to his boss. Donald took it and then leaned in and whispered into Nathan’s ear. “You are about to find out the truth. Do not worry, there is no bullet in it.” Then he walked over to Kamsi. “Daughter, I know how much you have suffered because of him,” Donald said, his voice smooth, almost fatherly as he held out the pistol. “He abandoned you. Left you in the dark while he lived his life. If you really want to make him feel your pain, Kamsi, this is your chance.” Kamsi’s trembling hand reached for the gun, her eyes locked on Nathan’s, burning with a mixture of hatred and hurt. Nathan’s heart sank as he saw
He remembered that day when she walked into his office with Alex. If only he had revealed himself to her since. If only she had been the first person he had met when he arrived in London, all of these stories would have been non-existent. And even now, the urge to tell her the truth was higher than ever. But really, what difference would it make? Kamsi would hate him even more after finding out that he had been in London all this while and hiding himself from her, allowing her to suffer terribly under the hands of another man, other men. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself, speaking softly but with unwavering conviction. “I’m sorry, Kamsi. I can’t erase the pain you went through, and I’ll never be able to take back the years we lost. But please, just let me make things right. Let me prove that I’m still your brother.” Kamsi’s jaw clenched, her eyes filled with a mixture of fury and grief. “You’re nothing to me, Nathan. Nothing,” she whispered, venom lacing every word. She
Alex called her over and over again, but Vanessa’s number did not go through. It had been over eight hours, and the evening was setting in. Where was she? He could not leave the hospital yet. He still had over three more days. “I hope she is fine, Loulou. Come on, you should go look for her.” Alex said to his mother. “Oh no! When did I become Vanessa’s bodykeeper? Is she a baby that you should be babysitting?” Loulou’s voice dripped with impatience. She leaned back, crossing her arms, giving Alex a pointed look. “Vanessa is a grown woman, Alex. If she can’t handle herself for a few hours, maybe she isn’t as indispensable as you think.” Alex clenched his jaw, frustration flaring in his eyes. “This isn’t just about her being ‘grown,’ Mother. You know as well as I do that there are people who would jump at any chance to harm us, especially her. Vanessa has critical information that could ruin us if it falls into the wrong hands.” Loulou raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “And that’s
“She didn’t say her name, but it is Megan White. You know, the popular Megan White. Should I let her in? I mean, she is attracting crowd in my hospital, everyone wants to take a picture with her.” the doctor said. Alex immediately adjusted his lying position. He quickly sat up. “Did you say Megan White?” he asked. This did not sound good. Alex's mind raced. Emma—Megan, as he knew her—had disappeared without a trace for weeks. He remembered Mr. Frost’s ominous warning: if anything happened to her, he would pay dearly. His chest tightened as he tried to make sense of it. How had she reappeared? Why now? Where had she been? What would she do to him? He really made no single effort in searching for him. Loulou noticed the sudden tension in his face. “What’s wrong, Alex? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Alex forced a dismissive smile, though his heart pounded fiercely. "Nothing, Mother. Just... unexpected." The doctor, sensing the odd shift in the atmosphere, tilted his head in c
“Where the heck have you been, Meg? It’s been what… almost a month now. I’ve called and texted and even reported the case to the police. Where have you been?” Alex asked genuinely. Megan simply smiled. “It doesn’t matter anymore now, does it? I’m back and as you can see, I am as perfect as always. Why don’t you introduce your beautiful mom to me?” Megan smiled at him. But Alex knew something was up. First off, she looked really lean and malnourished. It was not so evident, but as a person who had dated her for a while, he knew that she wasn’t the same. The sparkle in her eyes had dimmed, replaced by a cold, calculating look that Alex couldn’t ignore. She was still beautiful, no doubt—her skin flawless, her hair perfectly styled—but there was something off about her presence, something that made the air in the room feel heavy. Alex’s mind raced, but he forced himself to stay composed. What happened to her? he thought. Where did she go? He glanced at his mother, who was still eye
Loulou, watching closely, didn’t miss the subtle exchange between the two. Her eyes narrowed, but her smile never faltered. She had a way of reading people, of seeing through their facades. This woman, Megan—or whoever she really was—wasn’t just a chance visitor. There was more to her story, and Loulou wasn’t the type to let things slide. If this was some game, she would play it to win. But Megan’s reason actually sounded genuine, judging from the paleness of her eyes which was an unusual trait. “Oh, what a relief!” Loulou exclaimed, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she made her way to the sofa. “A model and a real estate agent, hmm? Alex, you certainly know how to pick your women.” Alex shot his mother a pointed look. "Mom, can we not—" Megan interrupted smoothly, “It’s fine. You know, it’s not easy being in the public eye. People expect perfection, and sometimes that means we have to disappear for a while, to heal... to come back stronger.” She glanced at Alex with a knowing l
Cozbi's keen, inquisitive voice cut like a razor across the room. She squinted as she examined Megan with a fresh focus. Loulou tensed, a glimmer of astonishment showing through her composed demeanor. The shock that went through him was too strong even for Alex to conceal. Megan turned back slowly, her posture rigid but her smile gentle, giving the impression that she was unconcerned. "Yes, I have collaborated with Mr. Frost on several projects. In the real estate industry, I am one of his reliable associates. Megan's mind was obviously racing as Cozbi's scrutinizing gaze lingered on her. Finally, with a slow, menacing smile on her lips, she replied, "Interesting." Few people may say they belong to Mr. Frost's inner group. He's a bit of a mystery, don't you think? “Very,” Megan replied smoothly. “But he values loyalty and competence, which is why I’ve had the privilege of working closely with him. Is there something specific you’d like to know about him, Mrs. Reed?” Cozbi’s smile
Megan could see the ambition burning in Cozbi’s eyes, the desire to claw her way to the top no matter the cost. It was almost laughable. Almost. She couldn’t allow Cozbi to fall into her own trap. No, Megan needed Cozbi to believe she was on her side, to think that her ambition was just a small thing in the grand game. "Well," Megan said, her voice cool but laced with the weight of experience, "I don’t doubt that you have the drive. But you have to be very careful who you’re targeting. There’s more at play here than you realize. Mr. Frost doesn’t just hold power—he holds all the cards. And someone like you, Cozbi... well, you wouldn’t want to be caught in the crossfire, would you?" Cozbi’s smile tightened, but Megan could see the wariness creeping into her eyes. She had her attention. Megan wasn’t backing down, but she was playing the part—planting the seed of doubt. After all, she wasn’t about to let Cozbi ruin everything she’d worked for. Cozbi straightened, eyes glinting with
The sky was beautiful. It always had been, and it always would be. But today, Mr. Frost took some time to admire the sun. He sat quietly, crossed his legs, and let out a heavy sigh, sipping his cocktail, feeling the cool air brush his face. It was refreshing, but it only brought back memories—sad ones. He stared out into the vast horizon, wishing for something more, something to end the emptiness that had consumed him. Beside him were three empty chairs: one to his left, another to his right, and one directly in front of him. One was for Kamsi, the other for his wife, Candace, and the last for Fred—the only man who had ever been more than an assistant. Fred had been a father to him, a rock in his storm. They were all gone now. Kamsi, alive, but slowly fading, and Fred and Candace—probably watching him from the heavens. It had been months, even years. He had fought, fought with everything in him, trying to move on, but his life was far from happy. It was as if he were living someo
The girl didn’t flinch. “No, sir. But I know you’re someone who can afford to buy a pen. Maybe even two.” Samuel smirked, impressed by her quick wit. “Clever. Fine, I’ll take one. How much?” “Fifty dollars.” Chris nearly choked on his saliva. “Fifty?! For a pen? Is it made of gold?!” Samuel chuckled darkly. “Fifty dollars for a pen. Bold move. I like that.” He pulled out his wallet, handed her a crisp hundred-dollar bill, and waved off her attempt to give him change. “Keep it,” he said. “Consider it an investment in your entrepreneurial spirit. Or your acting career—whichever comes first.” The girl nodded, slipping the money into her pocket. “Thank you, sir. May your enemies always trip over their own feet.” Samuel let out a sharp laugh. “I like her.” He watched as she disappeared into the crowd. “Chris, remind me to hire her in ten years if she doesn’t end up running the world by then.” “Yes, sir,” Chris grumbled as he hit the accelerator. “And remind me to install tinted win
Samuel Langford sighed briefly. His driver could smell the anger under his breath, tapping his foot gently on the floor of his car. He was enraged, ready to tear Donald Aurthur open. He brought out his phone and began to record a message. “Donald! 48 hours was the only time you had. I have been a sheep, a calm man to you. But see, my dad taught me how to be a wolf where necessary. Brace yourself, Donald, I am on my way to collect what you owe. No more excuses, no more delays. And no, I am not coming with a peace treaty!" Samuel's voice was calm yet icy, his words dripping with controlled fury. "Your games end today." He paused the recording, his finger hovering over the send button. He clenched his jaw, in anger. His son had told him that this was exactly what was going to happen. But guess he was softener even than his own son. For too long, Donald Aurthur had taken advantage of his patience. It was time to remind the man who he was dealing with. "Drive faster," Samuel instruc
But all of those were now wishes. All he could do now as weep and wonder what kind of life Donald would set for his sister. Donald owed him and he had just 20 hours left. A dramatic event was about to happen. Donald would be exposed and the Langfords would finally end him. Other men, women and children who once admired Nathan Reed weeped at Mr. Frost’s emotional speech. The announcment of the grande reveal of the Genesis Project came with an intoxication of excitement and sorrow. Overall, it was the perfect speech. People were glad to know that the Genesis project was complete. Though it has not been opened and inaugurated, thousands of people were already waiting in line to invest, rent, buy and do anything possible to be part of a new life, a new city. And Kamsi? Her eyes were swollen and red. She had cut her hair in agony. She found herself crying in her room for her brother with so much enthusiasm. She had been planning on killing him, on taking her revenge on him. But now, sh
The camera zoomed in on him. His face was stoic, unreadable, a man who held the power of a thousand empires in his gaze. “And as for Nathan Reed,” Mr. Frost said, a shadow crossing his face. “I will honor him. I will honor the man who gave us this chance, who built the foundation upon which we will all stand. His legacy is my responsibility now. His dream is my reality.” There was a brief pause before he added, almost in a whisper, “And no one will ever forget Nathan Reed. He may be gone, but his soul lives in The Genesis Project. He will return!” Dave and Anastasia watched from their end, having mixed feelings. It was emotional, but they hated the fact that though dead, Nathan somehow found his way to rise above them. Dave had always hated Nathan. Perhaps it was time to let the hate go. Or maybe not. From the Davenport end, no one said a word as they all sat in silence watching as Mr. Frost spoke. Anita was no longer part of the family. She had found her trajectory in life, a
“Breaking News!” The reporter had a smile on her face. Her grin was wide enough to cover the entire screen. “9 years ago, a young genius came up with the most astute, revolutionary idea the world has ever seen. The late Mr. Nathan Reed was the mastermind behind ‘The Genesis Project,’ the world’s largest and most ambitious urban development to date. He partnered with Elon Musk’s Empire, bringing the idea to life with the help of his brilliant mind and vision. But today, we stand at the dawn of a new era. The project that started as a dream is now a reality — a mega city, capable of housing millions, designed with state-of-the-art technology, sustainability, and innovation at its core. In an astonishing turn of events, the project has now been completed under the leadership of the mysterious Mr. Frost, who has taken over from Mr. Reed’s legacy. Sources say Mr. Frost, who inherited control of Elon Musk’s empire, has personally overseen the final stages of the Genesis Project. Whi
Then, he pointed to some images of some really big and influential business men and women along with top tier kids with the X mark on them with a marker paint? Or blood? It didn’t matter. The message was clear. “Listen, Kamsi, the world is a gameboard,” Donald said, his tone cold and deliberate. “And every single player is either an asset or a liability. Those marked here…” —he gestured to the images with red Xs— “were liabilities. People who stood in the way of progress. My progress. And now, they’re nothing. Pew… Vanished like thin air!” Kamsi’s eyes scanned the board. She recognized some faces—politicians, CEOs, heirs to fortunes. People who, at one point, seemed untouchable. Yet here they were, reduced to mere trophies on Donald’s twisted scoreboard. “So, this is your playbook?” she asked, her voice laced with a mix of curiosity and disdain. “You decide who lives and who dies?” Donald smiled, a dark and knowing expression. “Not quite. I don’t kill for sport, Kamsi. I kill
“Where are you going child?” Asked Donald. Kamsi paused and turned around. “I’m going to kill Alex,” She said flatly. “Since you are not going to do anything even though I’ve told you all the things he did to me. So, I am going to take matters into my own hands!” Donald smiled and scoffed. He got up from his office chair, walked to the front of his table and sat on it. “Tell me how exactly you plan to do that child! You’re gonna just show up to his face and put a bullet through his skull?” He asked. “Well, yes. That is exactly what I am doing. I don’t think you understand the things he did to me. Every night for years I cried my lungs out! You’re becoming too weak and…” “Shh…” Donald shushed her and walked towards her. Then, he placed her head on his chest. “Let it out kid. Let it out.” “Now… now my fucking brother is dead and I was not the one who killed him. I deserved to be the one to take his life, Donald!” Kamsi's voice cracked as she buried her face in his chest. Her
“Who the fuck are you?” cried the dude in pain as he managed to pick himself up and ran away. Emily, seeing that their attack and defense system was weak, began to back off. “Fuck you! You are fighting for this ugly, bitch. This is not new to her, stupid. Her boyfriend does worse every day. Good luck saving her from herself and from her boyfriend. You are a fool!” Emily then ran along with the rest of them. Those words rang in Mr. Frost’s ear over and over again, ‘Her boyfriend does worse everyday!’ That explained so much. So much. Her innocent smile, the bag beneath her eye, the hesitation in her voice, and the way she deflected kindness—it all made sense now. Mr. Frost clenched his fists, his sharp mind processing every detail with surgical precision. He turned to Clara, who was slumped on the ground, her arms shielding her face as though bracing for more blows. “Clara,” he said softly, his tone stripped of its usual calculation, replaced with genuine concern. “It’s over. Yo