Lena sat on the edge of the bed, her hands trembling as she clutched her phone. She hadn’t been able to close her eyes for more than a few minutes, haunted by the images from the previous night. Yet, beneath the surface, there was a strange exhilaration she couldn’t deny—a thrill that sent a shiver down her spine.Victor’s voice broke through her thoughts, low and casual. “Morning, Lena,” he said, strolling into the bedroom, fully dressed and annoyingly composed. He leaned against the doorframe, watching her with an unreadable expression.Lena looked up at him, her eyes slightly red from lack of sleep, but a wide, satisfied smile played on her lips. “Morning,” she muttered, her voice carrying a hint of excitement.Victor moved closer, sitting beside her on the bed. “You didn’t sleep,” he observed, brushing a strand of hair from her face.“I couldn’t,” she admitted, her lips curving into a smirk as she leaned into his touch. “Too much on my mind, I guess.”Victor chuckled, his hand tra
The Montgomery estate was bathed in a soft morning light, but nothing could thaw the coldness in Amelia Montgomery’s eyes. She sat in her opulent sitting room, her perfect posture a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing inside her. The clock ticked steadily, a rhythm that only amplified the chaos of recent events.The phone on the side table rang, slicing through the quiet. With practiced elegance, Amelia lifted the receiver, her voice cool and controlled.“Yes?”“Mother, it’s done,” Victor’s voice was smooth, almost too smooth. “Jacob was found dead this morning. The news is already spreading like wildfire.”Amelia’s lips twisted into a small, satisfied smile. “Finally. I was beginning to wonder if you’d lost your edge. Any complications?”“None,” Victor replied, a hint of smugness in his tone. “Jacob’s out of the picture for good. It was almost too easy.”“Of course, it was,” Amelia sneered. “Jacob was always pathetic. Too weak to survive in this world, let alone in our family. His
The cafe was buzzing with the morning rush, but Lena felt detached from the lively atmosphere. Her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts as she nervously stirred her coffee, glancing at the entrance every few seconds. She had been dreading this meeting, but she knew it was inevitable. Mark had been insistent that they speak in person, and his tone on the phone had left no room for argument.When the door finally opened and Mark stepped in, Lena's heart skipped a beat. He was exactly as she remembered—tall, with an air of quiet confidence that made him stand out even in a crowd. But today, his usual warmth was absent. His eyes were cold and red as they scanned the room, landing on Lena with an almost clinical detachment. He walked over to her table without a hint of a smile.“Mark, thank you for meeting me,” Lena began, trying to keep her voice steady. She gestured to the chair opposite her, but Mark didn’t sit. Instead, he crossed his arms, his expression hardening.“I’m only h
Jacob’s eyes fluttered open, disoriented by the cold, sterile environment. The fluorescent lights above flickered, casting a harsh glow on the room. He tried to move, but his body felt foreign, heavy. As he looked around, panic set in—he was in a morgue.“What… what’s happening?” Jacob whispered, his voice hoarse and unfamiliar.He glanced down at his hands. They were different—smoother, a different shade. His pulse quickened as he noticed another body on the adjacent slab, covered by a white sheet. Dread clawed at his insides as he reached out and pulled the sheet back, revealing a face he knew all too well—his own.“This can’t be real,” Jacob muttered, stumbling backwards until he collided with the wall. His mind raced, struggling to process the impossible.A noise outside the door jolted him from his thoughts. He needed to get out, away from this nightmare. He grabbed a set of clothes from a nearby desk, dressing quickly. With one last haunted glance at his former body, he slipped
Victor's eyes narrowed as he scanned the cemetery, his irritation simmering just below the surface. The funeral had drawn a larger crowd than he’d expected—too many unfamiliar faces. It was almost offensive. Jacob was never the type to have this many people care about him, was he? The idea feeding his frustration.His gaze roamed over the gathered mourners, landing on a man standing apart from the rest. Tall, with dark hair and an unsettlingly calm demeanour, the man seemed oddly detached from the proceedings. He wasn’t grieving. He was watching—watching too closely.Victor’s eyes lingered on him, a sliver of recognition tugging at the edges of his memory, but it slipped away as quickly as it came. Who the hell was he?The stranger noticed Victor's gaze and looked away, a slight smirk playing on his lips as if he were amused by Victor’s scrutiny. The audacity irked Victor, but as he confronted the man, Amelia's cold hand slipped into his arm, guiding him away. He shot one last glance
The car ride to the Blackwell estate was silent. The only sound was the steady rhythm of rain pelting against the windows. Anderson—formerly Jacob—sat rigid in the back seat, his mind swirling with questions and doubts. Every turn of the wheels seemed to pull him further from the life he had known and deeper into a world that was both foreign and familiar.His gaze drifted to the butler, who sat in the front, his back straight and composed. “Tell me something,” Anderson finally broke the silence, his voice laced with unease. “Why did my father—why did he never try to find me?”The butler didn’t turn around but responded with a calm, measured tone. “Your father’s decisions were always made with the family’s best interests in mind. When you were lost to us, he believed it was best to protect the family from the scandal. But he never stopped searching for you, Master Anderson. Not for a single day.”Anderson scoffed, his fingers tightening around the seatbelt. “So, he just let me live a
Mark paced back and forth in his small, dimly lit apartment, the phone pressed tightly against his ear. His heart pounded with anticipation and anxiety as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line. The voice was distorted, disguised to keep its identity hidden, but Mark didn’t care. He had made his decision—there was no turning back now.“You’ve done well, Mark,” the voice said, calm and authoritative. “The police are acting on the information you provided. Victor will have a hard time explaining this one away.”Mark clenched his jaw, his hand trembling slightly as he gripped the phone. “This is only the beginning. I want to see Victor Montgomery pay for what he did to Jacob. He took everything from me.”“And you will have your revenge,” the voice assured him. “But remember, Mark, this isn’t just about Victor. There are bigger forces at play, and if you play your cards right, you could come out of this with more than just revenge.”“What do you mean?” Mark asked, his voice
Victor Montgomery sat in his office, the dim light casting long shadows on the walls. His fingers traced the edges of the photograph on his desk—a picture of Anderson Blackwell at Jacob’s burial. His eyes narrowed in suspicion, his mind racing with questions that refused to settle."Why was Anderson Blackwell at Jacob’s burial?" he muttered, his voice low but edged with tension. The unease he felt had been gnawing at him ever since Jacob’s death, but this—this was something else. A piece of the puzzle that didn’t fit.Outside the office, a figure stood silently, ear pressed to the heavy wooden door. Every word Victor uttered sent a fresh wave of anxiety crashing over them. The tension in his voice was unmistakable, and it sent chills down their spine. Victor was close to figuring it all out, and if he did, there would be no escape for anyone involved.Inside, Victor’s voice cut through the silence again, sharper this time. "And Mark… Why haven’t I heard from him? Could he be the one w