Joe tried to steady the plates in his hands, but as he took a step forward, everything came crashing down. This was the third time he had broken the plates this week, but it wasn’t his fault. The slippery tiles in the kitchen area and his shoes, which were slowly falling apart, were to blame.“Joe!” The sound of his name being called made him turn back sharply. His eyes landed on his boss, Mr. Smith.“You fucking bastard!” Mr smith yelled as his hands moved towards Joe’s cheeks, hitting him across the face. “How many times have I told you to be careful, huh?”Joe tried to defend himself, but at that moment, he felt another slap on his face, harder than the last.His face stung, but not as much as the pain he felt as he took a step forward. He had stepped on a piece of the broken plate, and it penetrated his shoes.Joe swallowed the pain, turning to look at his boss. “I…I will clean it!” He said.“You better hurry up. People are waiting for their orders.” Joe nodded his head, watchi
When Joe rounded the corner, the sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks. Mr. Adam was there, sleeves rolled up, fists bloodied. Two men—beaten to a pulp—were slumped against the wall, barely conscious. Mr. Adam’s face was a storm of fury as he grabbed one of them by the collar and hoisted him up, delivering another brutal punch to his ribs. The man cried out, while his companion looked on with fear in his eyes. “Mr. Adam!” Joe shouted, stepping forward. “That’s enough!” Mr. Adam didn’t look up, his chest heaving as he pinned the man against the wall with one arm. “Stay out of this, Joe,” he growled. “I’m not done.” Joe, undeterred, moved closer. “I said enough!Look at them! They’re done. You’re going to kill them if you keep this up.” Mr. Adam finally turned his head toward Joe. “Maybe that’s what they deserve.” Joe stood his ground, his voice was firm as he spoke. “They’re just pawns, Adam. This isn’t going to solve anything.” Mr. Adam released the man, who dropp
The days leading up to the launch party for Joe’s new corporation were filled with relentless work, late nights, and endless planning. The fact that things had been stable contributed to making Joe’s planning easier. There were no threats, no near misses, and no weird messages. Life, for a brief moment, felt… calm. This made Joe feel relaxed. A day before the launch, Joe and John drove to the new corp’s headquarters to finalize preparations. The building itself was modern and striking—sleek lines of glass and steel that gleamed in the sunlight. As Joe stepped out of the car, his gaze swept across the building, and a rare smile tugged at his lips. John stood beside him, hands in his pockets, and observed Joe’s quiet pride. “You know,” John began, breaking the silence, “your father would be proud.” Joe turned to him, a small laugh escaping. “You think so?” “Yeah,” John said sincerely. “Not just proud, Joe—he’d be impressed. You’re doing something he never could. You’re tur
The day of John’s mother’s remembrance was quiet and intimate, just as John had wanted. The house was transformed into a warm and welcoming space with simple decorations—a few family photographs, candles, and flowers placed strategically around the living room. Lady Penelope was among the first to arrive, dressed elegantly in a navy blue dress. She greeted John with a tight hug, expressing her condolences. “I told you she was the best of the best.” Lady Penelope said after freeing John from her hug. Her eyes were on Joe, who immediately understood what she was talking about. “Madeline did a good job.” He said. “I’m really happy that things turned out well.” John looked between the two. “I’m lost here.” “Lady Penelope had referred me to the event planner who decorated the house.” Joe said. Without hesitation John thanked Lady Penelope, who waved off his thanks letting him know she was just helping. When John and lady Penelope stepped inside, Joe stood at the entrance, ensurin
Joe wandered aimlessly through the house the next day each room feeling more suffocating than the last. He shuffled through the house, aimlessly moving from one room to the next. He felt restless, like he couldn't find a place where he could sit still. His thoughts kept circling back to everything that had happened—his father, the gang, Hannah, the endless pressure. The walls of the house felt like they were closing in on him. As he walked into the study, something caught his eye. Tucked in the corner of the room, almost hidden beneath a pile of books, was a scarf. It was a soft, pale blue fabric. He recognized it immediately as Hannah’s. His heart lurched in his chest. He stood there for a moment, staring at it, and then the weight of it seemed to drop on him. His mind flashed back to all the time they spent together, the conversations, the moments that seemed to matter. But that was over now. He had to let go. "Roland!" Joe called out, his voice rough. Roland appeared almos
The day started like any other for Joe, with him arriving at the office early to tackle a packed schedule. He greeted Jeremy, and moved through the lobby, his focus already on the list of meetings he had ahead. But as he approached his office, his steps slowed. Something was out of place—a box sat on the floor right in front of his door. Joe frowned. Packages weren’t unusual, but this one was different. It was unmarked, plain brown, with no indication of where it came from. His instincts kicked in, a chill creeping down his spine. "Jeremy!" he called out in a sharp voice. Jeremy appeared almost instantly, confusion etched on his face. "Yes, Mr. Whitmore?" "What is this?" Joe pointed at the box. Jeremy looked at it, puzzled. "I don’t know. It wasn’t there when I got here." Joe’s unease deepened. "Has anyone checked this? Who delivered it?" "I’ll check with security," Jeremy said quickly, already pulling out his phone. Joe debated waiting but decided against it. He cr
Joe had thrown himself into work the following week. Each morning, he arrived at the company early, staying late into the night. The truth was he was trying to distract his mind, but everywhere he turned, something reminded him of Hannah. Whether it was a news headline that splashed her name across his screen or a fleeting memory of her laugh echoing in his mind. This frustrated him, at some point he just wished he had something to wipe away his memory. Sadly, there was nothing. However, today as Joe sat in his office, gazing out the window, the city lights twinkling against the darkening sky. His thoughts tripled. ‘Why can’t I shake her off my mind?’ he thought. Joe tried to push that thought away. He forced on his screen browsing through the multiple task he had to attend to. That evening, Joe received an invitation to a dinner hosted by one of the company's investors. He didn’t want to go at first until Timothy arrived at his doorstep with a persuasive look. “You need a brea
Joe watched as Lady Penelope’s hands glided through her phone screen. It was obvious she was swiping through contacts. She looked up after a while, and her eyes landed on Joe. “By meaningful you mean intimate right?” She asked as if trying to clarify things. Joe nodded and lady Penelope’s eyes glistened. “Well, if it’s intimate we would have to go for another option.” Lady Penelope said, dropping her phone. “The person I had in mind from the start doesn’t really align with what you want.” She added. Joe simply nodded. He was glad he came to lady Penelope she seemed skilled. His attention was back on her when he heard her speak. “Lila.” Her tone rose, and at the mention of that name the maid who had ushered him in appeared. “I need my black book in the library.” She said in a smooth tone. “And search for a pen on your way out.” The girl that was named Lila nodded, disappearing down the hall seconds later. “So about this new person?” Joe said trying to strike a conversation. “
The black SUV hummed as it cruised down the highway under the cover of night, carrying Joe, Mr. Adam, and Victor toward their destination. Victor, was seated in the backseat beside Joe, stared out the window, his fingers drumming nervously on his knee. Joe glanced at Victor, sensing his unease. “You okay?” he asked. Victor nodded but didn’t look at him. “I’m fine. Just thinking.” Mr. Adam, who was in the driver’s seat, cut in sharply. “Don’t overthink. Stick to the plan, Victor. You’ve got your passport. Once you’re on that flight, it’s out of our hands.” “If you act out of place and get caught I’m going to come to your rescue.” Mr. Adam added. “I don’t expect you to help me you already done enough.” Victor said in a sarcastic tone which Mr. Adam noticed but he didn’t address. He ignored Victor and victor leaned back with a sigh. He was staring at the window once again, and seconds later he turned to Joe with a firm look on his face. “Joe,” he called out in a low tone,
Joe still maintained his silence, his eyes flickering around the room. “Joe,” The sound of victor calling his name made Joe look in his direction. “I know this isn’t easy to believe. But I swear, I’m telling the truth.” Joe still didn’t respond he was still thinking of what to do when an Idea took over his mind. He pulled out his phone, staring at the screen before gliding his fingers across it. “Mr. Adam will know what to do,” he finally said, dialing the familiar number. Victor sat up straighter, alarm flashing in his eyes. “Wait, Joe. No. Don’t call Adam.” Joe raised an eyebrow. “Why not?” Victor hesitated, searching for the right words. “You know how he feels about me. Adam’s not a fan of mine, and I’m not sure he’ll want to help. We’ll waste time arguing, and—” Joe cut him off, his tone firm. “Victor, if you really want my help, you’ll trust my judgment. Adam’s been my right hand through everything. If I’m going to stick my neck out for you, he needs to be in the loop.”