Zen leaned over to Rosalia. “Hey, could you point me to the restroom?”Rosalia nodded and stood up. “I’ll take you there.”Zen gently placed a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. “No need to stress yourself. Just point me in the right direction.”She gave him a small smile and pointed down a hallway. “It’s straight down there. The last door on the left.”“Thanks,” Zen replied, giving her a nod before making his way toward the restroom.___As he finished washing his hands and stepped out of the restroom, he almost bumped into two men waiting outside—Silas Wales and his friend, Dave. Zen’s eyes met Silas's, and he recognized the familiar sneer. Silas, whose ego Zen had bruised in a previous encounter, clearly hadn’t forgotten.“Long time no see,” Silas said with a forced smile, his tone dripping with condescension.Zen raised an eyebrow, with a calm expression. “It’s been a while, Silas,” he replied evenly, not showing any hint of concern.Dave smirked, leaning against the wall. “Still
As Silas approached Zen, his hand extended, ready to search him, a smirk played on his lips. Zen’s gaze was steady, though his eyes were sharp with amusement. Silas’ hand brushed against the necklace, and his smile broadened. “Gotcha!” Silas whispered triumphantly, drawing out the diamond necklace. “Here it is—”Before he could finish, a loud crash echoed through the hall. Glass shattered from above, and the lights abruptly went out. Smoke bombs went off and suddenly the room was filled with a thick fog and gasps of shock as chaos erupted.Zen’s hand trembled, his face paling. “I finally had the chance to—” His voice wavered, barely audible. “I finally had the chance to have some fun.” The hall plunged into darkness, and the room was enveloped in a higher degree of chaos, broken only by distant shouts and hurried footsteps. From the shadows, Sinclair appeared, his voice cutting through the confusion. “Chief. Looks like there’s trouble.”Zen’s eyes darted around as the invaders, clad
“Well, now that the excitement is over,” Silas began loudly, trying to regain his composure and draw attention back to himself, “there's still the matter of the missing jewelry—”The woman earlier, in a lavish gown suddenly stepped forward, holding up a glittering diamond necklace. “Oh, Silas!” she exclaimed, interrupting him. “I found it! I must have kept it in my purse without realizing.”The crowd let out a collective sigh of relief, with some chuckling nervously. But Silas wasn’t satisfied. He opened his mouth to argue, “But—”“Silence!” the Albrecht patriarch's voice boomed through the hall, cutting Silas off sharply. His face was stern, his eyes narrowing with impatience. “Enough of this nonsense! We have had more than enough drama for one night.” He turned to the Wales patriarch, who stood nearby, and his voice softened slightly but remained commanding. “See to it that your grandson knows his place and keeps his mouth shut.”The Wales patriarch sighed and turned, giving Silas a
The room was tense, the air thick with anticipation. The old man's eyes, sharp as ever, studied Zen intently. "You know," the old man began, his voice gravelly but commanding, "there are five major units in the military. Each one is capable of producing soldiers with the kind of strength you demonstrated tonight." He paused, letting his words hang in the air. "So, tell me, young man, which unit are you from?"Zen remained silent, his expression calm and unreadable. The old man’s smile widened, his curiosity piqued."You’re not going to answer? Or are you just being cautious?" he pressed. "You must be aware that anyone who shows such ability is usually affiliated with one of these units. It’s rare to see someone outside the military capable of such feats."Zen's eyes flickered slightly, but he kept his composure. "I’m not affiliated with any unit," he finally said, his voice steady. "I’ve always worked alone."The old man raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Alone, you say? That’s q
The next day, sunlight was streaming through the windows as Zen drove up to the hospital. He pulls into a parking spot, the engine of his car purring to a stop. As he steps out, a familiar voice cuts through the morning air.“Well, well, well. Look who’s gracing us with his presence,” Tasha teases, a playful smirk on her face. She’s leaning against a nearby wall, her arms crossed over her chest, clearly having been waiting for him.Zen glances over, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Tasha,” he acknowledges with a nod. “What are you doing out here so early?”“I could ask you the same thing,” she retorts, pushing off the wall to walk over to him. “Or maybe you’re just another rich kid who likes making a grand entrance?”Zen chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I didn’t realize driving a regular car was considered grand.”“Oh, please,” Tasha rolls her eyes. “That’s not a regular car, and you know it. I bet there’s a lot more to you than you let on. Probably some trust fund you’re hiding
Zen and Tasha walked through the hospital entrance, their footsteps echoing in the bustling hallway. The scent of antiseptic in the air, mingling with the quiet hum of activity. Nurses and doctors walking around, their faces set with the seriousness of their duties. Zen is scanning the surroundings, still thinking about the run-in with Sonia, when a familiar voice calls out. “Tom!” Zen turns and sees Nia approaching, her face lighting up with a smile. She was wearing yunusual vibrant scrubs, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Zen’s surprised to see her here; he hadn’t expected to run into Nia today. He stops in his tracks, and Tasha glances between them, sensing an old connection. “Nia,” Zen says, a genuine smile spreading across his face. “What are you doing here?” Nia shrugs, a playful glint in her eyes. “I could ask you the same thing. But I guess you’re not here for the same reason as everyone else—you’re probably trying to save the world one patient at a time.” Z
“Who’s this?” The voice over the phone demanded as Dr. Morris’ call went through Dr. Morris skipped the pleasantries. “I need you to do something for me,” he says, his tone low and commanding, accompanied by an evil smirk.There’s a brief pause before the voice on the other end responds, “What do you need?”Dr. Morris leans forward, his voice dropping to a whisper as if the walls have ears. “I want you to have Patient 60 reassigned to the traditional medicine department. Immediately.”A longer pause follows. The unknown caller’s tone shifts, now cautious. “Why Patient 60? You know that case is a nightmare. It’s been a thorn in everyone’s side for weeks. Why transfer it now?”Dr. Morris’s lips curl into a malicious grin. “Because it’s perfect for what I have in mind. Let’s just say it’s a little test for our new intern, Tom.”The voice on the other end sounds skeptical. “Tom? You want to set him up with this case? That could go either way, Morris. What if he manages to handle it? It c
Zen’s eyes scanned Tasha’s face as she returned to the table, her usually calm demeanor replaced by a tense, anxious expression. He straightened up in his seat and asked, “Tasha, what’s wrong?”Tasha took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. “They’ve given us an impossible patient, I mean... Patient 60.” Her hands trembled as she spoke. “I’ve read the file; the case is a disaster. It’s been passed around from department to department, and no one has been able to make progress. I’m scared... really scared that something bad is going to happen, and I don’t even want to think about it.”Zen leaned back in his chair, his expression softening. “Don’t worry, Tasha. Aren’t you in this profession for situations like this?” He smiled faintly as she shook her head.“This is different,” Tasha said, her voice barely above a whisper. “This patient... it’s like there’s no solution. And if we fail, it’ll be on us.”“The department that takes up the case and fails, takes the fall and responsib
The room hung in stunned silence, the air thick with disbelief. Yaya remained on his knees, his voice breaking as he groveled toward Zen. His head bowed so low it seemed he might sink into the marble floor. “Please, I’ll do anything!” Yaya’s words poured out like a flood, his hands trembling as they gripped the floor beneath him. “Just—just call them back. Restore my distribution channels. I can fix this! I’ll pay whatever you want!” Jun stared at his father, horror and confusion warring on his face. His voice came out sharp, cutting through the murmurs beginning to rise around the room. “Dad! What are you doing?” Jun took a step closer, grabbing Yaya by the arm. “Get up! Why are you kneeling to him?” Yaya barely turned, his eyes wild with desperation. “Let go of me, Jun! You don’t understand what’s happening here!” “I don’t understand?” Jun’s voice cracked as his confusion turned to anger. “You’re humiliating yourself! Him? He’s nothing! A useless son—” *SMACK!* Yaya’s ha
Zen's gaze remained steady as the man took another step closer, the condescension dripping from his tone. “Hey! Look!” Someone echoed. “That’s Mr. Yaya. Jun’s father. What’s he doing here?” Another voice echoed. “Do you even understand the weight of the people in this room, Tom?” Yaya’s voice was loud enough to draw more eyes to their corner. “Men who have built empires, shaped industries, and created legacies. And then there’s you—scraping by, pretending to fit into a world you clearly don’t belong to.” Rosalia, her frustration evident, stepped forward again. “Mr. Yaya, this is getting out of hand. You have no right—” “Stay out of it, Mrs. Rosalia,” Yaya snapped, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t understand the stakes here. This is about respect, and this boy has none.” Jun smirked as he pushed his uncle’s hands off himself, crossing his arms as he looked Zen up and down. “He doesn’t just lack respect, Father—he lacks everything. Power, influence, wealth. What does he have? A
Zen turned slowly, his eyes locking onto the man who had called out. His tone was sharp and mocking, cutting through the air like a whip. The man was tall, his stance brimming with arrogance as he squared his shoulders and stepped forward. Rosalia’s smile faltered, and she instinctively stood from her chair. “Jun, what are you doing?” Jun ignored her, his eyes focused entirely on Zen. “I’m asking what right he has to be sitting here with you.” Zen’s expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of annoyance in his gaze. He stayed calm, leaning slightly on the back of the chair he’d just pulled out for Rosalia. “And who are you to decide that?” Jun scoffed, his lips twisting into a bitter smile. “Who am I? That’s rich coming from someone like you. Do you even know where you are? Do you have any idea the kind of people in this room?” “I’m well aware,” Zen said evenly, his voice low but commanding. “Now, why don’t you explain why this concerns you?” Jun’s hand clenched i
Zen turned slightly, scanning the crowd. His eyes landed on Rosalia, who stood a few feet away, her soft smile aimed directly at him. She looked stunning, her emerald-green gown flowing gracefully as she approached him. "Tom," she said, her voice warm and teasing, "I thought I’d never get through that sea of people to find you." “Rosalia,” he said, his lips curving into a faint smile. “You look like you’re enjoying yourself.” She gave a small laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You could say that, though I don’t think ‘enjoying’ is the right word. Awkwardly surviving? Maybe.” Zen arched a brow, the corners of his mouth twitching with amusement. “Awkward, huh? What’s awkward about mingling with a bunch of over-dressed people waiting to make power plays?” Rosalia rolled her eyes, stepping closer. “You’re forgetting the forced smiles, empty compliments, and the undercurrent of judgment in every conversation. It’s exhausting.” Zen chuckled softly, tilting his head
On the day of the gala, the Albrecht Estate was alive with energy. Cars lined up in a procession at the gates, with chauffeurs stepping out to open doors for the city’s elite. Inside the sprawling ballroom, the hum of conversation was only interrupted by the occasional clink of glasses or bursts of laughter. Waiters moved swiftly through the crowd, trays balanced, while the soft melody of a live quartet filled the air.Zen’s car pulled into the driveway, sleek and understated compared to the flashy limousines that preceded it. As he stepped out, two young attendants rushed forward. “Mr. Diel,” one said, bowing slightly. “Welcome to the gala. Let us guide you inside.” Zen adjusted his cuffs and gave a curt nod. “Lead the way.” The attendants escorted him through the grand entrance, where the doors opened to reveal the glittering scene inside. The air smelled faintly of expensive perfume and polished wood, every detail carefully curated to impress. Zen’s gaze scanned the room
Zen’s eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the soft morning light spilling through the window. He turned his head and spotted Keisha, sitting across the room with her arms folded, watching him with a casual smile. Her presence caught him off guard.“Morning, sleepyhead,” she said with a smirk.Zen blinked, then let out a sigh, rolling onto his back. “I overslept,” he muttered, a bit annoyed with himself. “Not like me at all.”Keisha raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. “Even the mighty Zen has his off days, it seems.”Sitting up, he rubbed his eyes, then looked at her with suspicion. “How did you get in here? I lock my doors every night.”She held up a shiny key, dangling it between her fingers with a playful grin. “Spare key. Thought you’d remember I keep one.”Zen sighed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. “Of course you do.” He ran a hand through his hair, then fixed her with a curious stare. “Since you’re here, Keisha… explain your schedule to me.”Keisha blinked, clearly t
The night was cool and crisp as Zen stepped onto the deck of his yacht, taking in the gentle sway of the water beneath him. The lights from the city reflected off the waves, casting shimmering patterns on the boat. Just ahead, leaning against the railing with a glass in hand, Sinclair turned, a grin spreading across his face as he spotted Zen approaching. “Thought you’d never make it,” Sinclair teased, raising his glass in greeting. Zen smirked, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Didn’t want to keep you waiting too long.” He looked around, taking in the luxurious setup. “But tell me, when are you finally going to get your own yacht, Sinclair? This ‘borrowing’ act is getting old.” Sinclair laughed, an easy, carefree sound. “Who says I don’t have my own?” he replied, eyes twinkling with mischief. “In fact, I have more yachts than a three-year-old can count. I just happen to like *this* one the best.” Zen raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes. “So, you’re telling
Zen’s gaze locked onto Silas, his expression calm but his eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity. “So, this is how you like to handle things? Thought you’d finally stand up to someone, Silas?”Silas sneered, but there was a flicker of fear in his eyes. “You think you’re something cause you managed to pull a fast on me with pure luck—”Zen’s smirk widened. “I think we both know luck had nothing to do with it.” He took a step closer, hands relaxed at his sides, his presence radiating an authority that made everyone in the room hold their breath.“Stay back,” Silas snapped, his voice wavering as he tried to maintain his composure.Zen chuckled softly. “Oh, now you’re worried?”Silas glared, but his posture had shifted, more defensive than before. He glanced around, seeking support, but the others kept their eyes on the floor, unwilling to meet Zen’s gaze.“I don’t have time to play with you, Silas,” Zen murmured, his tone almost bored. “But maybe a quick reminder wouldn’t hurt.”He mov
“Tom!” Nia called out, drawing his attention, her voice sounding urgent. She didn’t even glance at Rosalia, who was standing beside him, her eyes fixed solely on Zen.Zen looked up, surprised to see her approaching. “Nia?” he asked, standing as she reached their table. “What happened?”Nia huffed, folding her arms across her chest as she tilted her head, clearly savoring the moment to vent. “You won’t believe what just happened,” she began, her tone laced with annoyance as she jerked her thumb back toward a waiter who was lingering nervously by the kitchen entrance, clearly aware he was in trouble. “That waiter back there? He decided to make a judgment call on my financial status. Apparently, my card didn’t go through, and he assumed I couldn’t pay.” She paused, letting out a short, sarcastic laugh. “He even suggested I… ‘pay’ another way. Like I’d be desperate enough to trade favors for dinner.”Zen’s face shifted from mild surprise to something much darker, his jaw tightening as he