***FLASHBACK CONTINUES***Zen clenched his fists, his eyes were still fixed on the cracked statue as he struggled to steady his breath. The rage inside him simmered, but he knew he had to pull it together. Clearing his throat, he turned back to Keisha, who still knelt on the ground, her head bowed. “Stand up,” he said, his voice was rougher than he intended.Keisha rose to her feet immediately, her eyes meeting his without hesitation. Zen ran a hand through his hair and exhaled deeply. “Sorry you had to see me like that... in such a sour state.”She didn’t respond right away, her usual stoic expression never wavering. It was clear she’d been by his side long enough to know better than to comment on his emotions. Still, there was a flicker of concern in her eyes.Zen straightened, forcing his voice to remain calm. “Who killed him?”The question hung in the air for a moment, the weight of it making the silence unbearable. Keisha lowered her gaze slightly. “I don’t know,” she admitted.
***FLASHBACK CONTINUES***Zen stepped back inside the mansion, his mind racing as he approached his grandfather. If he was going to uncover the truth behind Tom’s death, this was the only way. He found his grandfather sitting in the dimly lit room, the old man’s gaze steady, waiting for Zen’s answer.“Yes, I will be Tom,” Zen said, his voice was low but firm.His grandfather's lips curled into a slight smile, with a glimmer of relief in his eyes. “Thank you for receiving the family,” he said quietly, his tone carrying both gratitude and exhaustion. “You’re doing what is necessary, Zen.”Zen’s chest tightened at the mention of his real name, but he swallowed the discomfort. From this point forward, he was no longer Zen. He was Tom, the quiet, unassuming brother who had barely made a mark on the world.His grandfather slowly rose from his chair and pointed to a set of worn-out clothes folded neatly on a chair in the corner of the room. “Those are some of Tom’s old clothes. You’ll need t
***FLASHBACK CONTINUES***Zen gripped the mop tightly as he moved across the living room floor, his eyes scanning the grand room. The thought of living Tom’s life, the strangeness of being in his brother’s shoes, sat heavily on his shoulders. He pushed the mop rhythmically, lost in thought about the reality he was now forced to accept.Suddenly, the front door burst open, and the sound of heavy footsteps filled the air. "I’m home! Get me some food! Where are the chefs?" a loud voice called out, breaking the quiet of the mansion.Zen looked up from the floor, startled by the sudden intrusion. His eyes landed on a man with an arrogant smirk plastered across his face. Paul, Tom’s brother-in-law. Zen recognized him from pictures among the one’s at his grandfather’s place, though they had never met in person. From the look on Paul’s face, he didn’t seem the least bit interested in Zen—or rather, Tom."Wait up! Look at the floor—I’m mopping," Zen called out, his voice was firm but polite. H
****FLASHBACK CONTINUES***Zen stretched out on the mattress, his back uncomfortably pressing into the tiles underneath as it compressed under his weight. He stared up at the ceiling, trying to reconcile the life his brother Tom had lived with what he was now enduring. It had only been a few days since he’d taken on his brother’s identity, but the constant mistreatment gnawed at him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up the façade without snapping.Malia’s glare still lingered in his mind, the way she had looked at him when he mistakenly jumped on the bed. Her words echoed in his head, "I think the accident really did a number on you," she had said coldly. "You’ve forgotten where you sleep." She pointed to the pitiful mattress on the floor without a hint of sympathy, her face etched with disdain.Now, lying on that very mattress, he couldn't help but feel a growing disgust for the situation his brother had been trapped in. How had Tom lived like this for over four years? M
***FLASHBACK CONTINUES***Zen stepped into the garden, relishing the brief moment of solitude. The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the lush greenery. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of blooming flowers, trying to shake off the suffocating atmosphere of the mansion. Just as he was beginning to unwind, his mother-in-law, approached him, her expression unreadable."Tom!" she called out, her voice sharp against the serene backdrop. "I’m glad I found you. I have something important to discuss."He turned to face her, forcing a smile. "What is it?"She stepped closer, her demeanor shifting from stern to almost conspiratorial. "I’ve been thinking about your future here. I want to gift you a piece of land in Santa fizzo."Zen raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "That sounds generous. What’s the catch?""No catch, just a gesture of goodwill, you do clean a lot," his mother-in-law insisted, gesturing towards a nearby table laden with papers. "I’ve prepared the documents fo
It was finally the day of the presentation at the hospital. Tasha paced nervously in the hallway, her eyes darting to the large doors at the end where the team ahead of them was presenting. She tugged at her sleeves, trying to steady her breath, but the growing murmur of the crowd beyond those doors wasn’t helping. Her team members stood around her, exchanging anxious glances, waiting for their turn.Just then, Zen appeared, calm as ever, striding down the hall with his hands casually in his pockets. His sharp gaze landed on Tasha, who immediately felt a wave of relief, though her hands were still trembling."Tom," she muttered, catching his eye.Zen approached her with that same serene energy he always carried. “What’s going on?” he asked, glancing at the closed doors where the previous team was still wrapping up their presentation.Tasha sighed, shaking her head. “It’s our turn next. I… I don’t know, the crowd looks bigger than we expected. This is more than a regular presentation.
Tasha stepped off the stage, She had made it through the presentation, but before she could fully breathe, she was stopped by a firm voice from the panel. The panel of reviewers sat in a long row, their faces serious, almost as if it was a debate. At the center of the table was Dr. Patel Bass, the owner of the hospital and its head doctor. He sat with an air of authority, surrounded by other high-ranking doctors and hospital officials.“Miss Tasha,” Dr. Bass said, his deep voice booming across the room. “Your presentation was impressive, and this new advancement in traditional medicine has certainly caught our attention.”Tasha's heart pounded as she stood frozen in place, nodding politely as she tried to catch her breath. She glanced at her team, who were also looking at the panel with wide eyes.Dr. Bass continued, “We would like to review more about this treatment at a later date, but for now, there is something more pressing.” He leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. “We
Sonia, with her usual grace, attempted to walk past Zen, her heels clicking sharply on the polished floor. But before she could make her way through, Zen casually stepped into her path, blocking her. “I heard you helped out big time,” he said, his voice low but teasing, that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips.She stopped in her tracks, her face flushing slightly. She tried to hide it, but Zen didn’t miss a thing. A small smile crept onto her face despite her best efforts to stay composed.Zen chuckled, stepping closer as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “It’s nice to see you can actually be a lady,” he said, his tone playful.Sonia flared up, but not with anger. It was a cute, flustered reaction. “Oh, please!” she shot back, half-laughing and half-annoyed. She rolled her eyes, trying to keep her cool, but the way her cheeks had heated up betrayed her.Zen let out a deep, amused laugh, brushing past her with an effortless swagger, but she wasn’t about to let him get away so easil
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