“You know, I figured it would be quite easy for you to know the reason why I would be here,” Victor said. Joe's chest increased as he felt his frustration piling up. Victor hadn’t answered his question yet. Joe felt like he would lose his mind, if victor tried to avoid his question or ask him another question. Surprisingly, Victor didn’t say a word. He just stared blankly at Joe. "Answer my question, Victor. “ Joe said out of impatience. “Why are you here? And what’s really going on in this place?" Victor crossed his arms and leaned casually against a nearby wall, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Fine, fine, I will talk, but I enjoyed messing with you, though.” Joe shot him a glare, and Victor moved his head forward. “Okay, Why am I here? Easy. I sell drugs to rich people." Joe blinked, his brow furrowing. "This looks like more than a drug dealing sight.” Victor’s grin widened. "And you’re right, my dear friend. This is where the elite come to play. Not just rich peopl
Joe kept running despite knowing that his chances of escape were slim. But then, a twist of fate happened. The door burst open; and a group of men rushed him, giving Joe the chance to put a few distance between him and the men. When he got outside, he rushed to his car. He was about to step inside when he heard footsteps. Immediately, Joe crouched behind his car, his breath shallow and his body tense. The faint glow of the overhead lights cast long shadows across the cracked asphalt the sound of approaching footsteps was getting closer, and this made his heart pound in his chest. “Check over there,” a gruff voice barked from somewhere close by. Another voice chimed in, “You take that corner. I’ll check this side.” Joe pressed himself tighter against the side of his car, every nerve on edge. He could hear the men moving methodically, their boots crunching on the gravel, searching for any sign of him. “Anything?” one of them called out. “Nothing,” came the reply. “He mu
Joe followed John closely behind, his curiosity growing at each step he took. “Can you at least tell me what’s going on?” Joe said in a low voice.“You are going to see it soon.” That was the only word John said. He remained quiet as they climbed the grand staircase and walked down a hallway that Joe rarely ventured into. At the end of the corridor, John pushed open a door, revealing a small, state-of-the-art security room filled with monitors, control panels, and blinking lights.Joe stepped inside and looked around, amazed. “I never knew this part of the house existed,” he said, taking in the sleek setup. John smirked. “Not surprised. You don’t strike me as someone who likes to explore.”“You’re right,” Joe admitted, running his hand along one of the counters. “I haven’t even visited most of the estate.”John gestured to one of the screens. “Well, this is where the magic happens. Come here.”Joe moved closer as John clicked a few buttons, pulling up a series of surveillance feeds
Joe stood still, watching as the figure moved further away, during that moment, John brushed pasted him. “Come on, buddy, you can’t give up now!” John said. “I just need a minute to catch my breath,” Joe said. He relaxed for what felt like minutes. Then he scrambled to his feet, trailing behind John and the security guards. The figure sprinted toward the main road, weaving between parked cars and pedestrians who yelled in surprise. John appeared from the other side, cutting off the man’s path. "End of the line!" John yelled, his voice echoing through the street. The figure hesitated, glancing around for an escape route. His chest heaved as he weighed his options. Then, in a last-ditch effort, he turned and dashed toward an empty lot on the edge of the road. "After him!" Joe yelled, and the chase resumed. They pursued the figure into the lot. The man stumbled slightly but kept moving. Suddenly, a loud whistle pierced the air. One of the security guards, who had circled around
“You’ve been in here all morning!” John said as he entered Joe’s father’s study. He glanced around at the clutter of old papers, notebooks, and ledgers Joe had spread across the large oak desk. “I’m looking for answers,” Joe replied, not bothering to look up. His hands sifted through another pile of documents. “I have this feeling in my gut that these threats are bigger than Aaron. There’s something deeper going on here.” John leaned against the edge of the desk, crossing his arms. “Alright, tell me—what have you found so far?” Joe exhaled heavily, holding up one of the letters. “These threatening letters—they’re too identical. Same handwriting, same style, the same words.” He placed the letter down and rubbed his temples. “Aaron couldn’t have written these. He wasn’t even born when the first ones were sent to my dad years ago.” John’s eyes widened. “So you’re saying... Aaron’s father could be behind this?” Joe shook his head. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to find some kind of
“What do you mean the guy I’m about to meet is in jail?” Joe asked, his voice rising in disbelief as he stared at Timothy, who was gripping the steering wheel nervously. Timothy winced. “I didn’t want to tell you at first because I thought you might freak out.” Joe’s glare hardened. “And you didn’t think this was something I should know? How am I supposed to feel safe meeting up with this guy now?” “Relax, Joe,” Timothy said, trying to sound reassuring. “He’s not a murderer or anything. Kelvin landed in jail because he got top-secret information about a powerful family, and they came after him. He’s in here because of what he uncovered, not because he’s dangerous.” Joe scoffed. “Yeah, sure. If he ‘was’ a murderer, I’m sure you wouldn’t have mentioned that either.” Timothy sighed and glanced at Joe. “Look, if you really want me to turn back, say the word, and we’ll leave. I won’t force you into anything.” Joe paused, mulling over the situation. After a moment, he waved Tim
The drive to the cottage was tense. Joe sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, replaying Hannah's call in his mind. Timothy glanced over at him flashing him a warm gaze. “She’s going to be fine, buddy?” He said in a low tone. “I hope so!” Joe replied. When they arrived at the cottage, Joe noticed something odd. The windows, which usually had curtains fluttering in the breeze, were shut tight. The house looked eerily still. “Something doesn’t feel right,” Joe muttered. Timothy looked at him. “You sure about this?” Joe didn’t reply. He stepped out of the car, his boots crunching against the gravel. Timothy and John followed close behind. Joe approached the front door and noticed it was slightly ajar. He hesitated, then pushed it open cautiously. “Hannah?” he called out. The inside of the cottage was dark, the air cool and still. Joe took a step inside, his eyes darting around, trying to adjust to the dim light. “Hannah, are you here?” Timothy stayed behind h
Joe was fuming by the time they pulled into the driveway of the Whitmore estate. He slammed the car door shut and stormed toward the front door, with Timothy trailing behind, looking concerned but silent. Inside, John was waiting, sensing the tension between them. “I’ll give you two some space,” John said, disappearing into another room. Timothy was about to call him back, but John had worked past him in a hurry. Timothy sighed, his eyes staring back at Joe. He was left to figure out what with Joe alone. That didn’t seem like a pretty hard task because of Joe's behavior. Timothy leaned against the wall, crossing his arms as he watched Joe pace back and forth. “Okay, spill. What happened back there?” Joe threw his jacket onto the couch, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Can you believe she said that bringing you into this would ruin everything?” he snapped. “All I’ve been trying to do is get all hands on deck here. This isn’t just about her anymore—it’s about th
“You’re going to be our eyes and ears,” John said flatly, as he flickered his gun about. “You’ll let us know every move the Sanchez gang makes before they make it. Got it?” The man’s eyes widened in panic. “I can’t do that! If they find out—if they even suspect—I’m dead! My family’s dead!” John didn’t flinch. He lowered the gun slightly, only to press it firmly against the man’s chest. “If you don’t do what I’m telling you, you’ll be dead a lot sooner.” The man froze, trembling under the cold weight of John’s words. “It’s better you just kill me now,” he said hoarsely, his voice cracking. John sighed, the frustration was very clear in his voice. “You’re not thinking straight. This isn’t just about you anymore. It’s about your family and your life.”The man didn’t say a thing, and John leaned forward. “Don’t you get it! We are offering you an opportunity here.”“That doesn’t sound like an opportunity.” The man said in a flat tone. “Just kill me like I said before.”“For the lo
The car rolled to a quiet stop, its headlights cutting through the darkness of the neighborhood. Rusty buildings lined the empty streets. The silence was unnerving, broken only by the occasional shuffle of rats scurrying through the debris. Joe sat in the passenger seat, his brows furrowed as he stared out at the scene in front of him. “This doesn’t look safe,” Joe muttered under his breath. “Are you sure we’re in the right place?” John, sitting behind the wheel, didn’t look half as worried. He leaned back in his seat, a small smirk playing on his lips. “What, are you scared?” he teased. Joe shot him an annoyed look. “I feel like I’ve walked into the lion’s den. Don’t you think we’re being a little reckless?” John waved off the concern with a hand. “Relax, Joe. Nothing’s going to happen. Besides, if you’re scared, you can stay in the car. Hide out here while I do all the work.” Joe narrowed his eyes. “I’m not staying in the car. That’s not happening.” John chuckled
Joe stared at the screen, as his hands moved swiftly across his screen. Once the message was sent he turned to John. “Done!” John smiled. “Good!” “What do we do now?” Joe asked. “We wait for his reply.” John said, in a low tone. John sighed, staring at the open sky. Him and John didn’t say anything, for what felt like minutes until John decided to break the silence. “Any messages?” Joe pulled out his phone which he had kept in his pocket. The dim light from his phone screen illuminated his face as he stared at the message he had sent to Victor minutes ago. Victor hadn’t replied the text and Joe informed John about it. “We would just have to wait a little.” John said. Minutes passed. Then half an hour. Still no reply. Joe sighed and tossed his phone into his pocket , rubbing his temples. “Any word yet?” John’s voice rose. Joe shook his head, glancing up at him. “No. Nothing.” John folded his arms, leaning forward , before speaking. “Well, you texted him. That’s a fir
“So, where exactly are we going?” Joe asked, in a firm tone John kept his eyes on the road, gripping the wheel confidently. “You’ll see.” Joe frowned slightly, shifting in his seat. “You’ve been driving for almost an hour, John. You took the wheel like you had somewhere specific in mind.” John smirked faintly but didn’t look at him. “I do.” “And where is that?” Joe pressed, turning his head toward him. John’s jaw twitched as though he was mulling over his response. “Just wait and see how.” Joe let out a small, tired laugh. “I don’t think I have that patient.” “Well, too bad,” John said firmly. “It looks like you’re going to have to acquire a bit of patience today.” Joe shook his head, staring back out the window. “This is worse than standing in line for ice-cream.” “What a nice way to describe this moment,” John said in a corky tone and Joe wasn’t buying his corkiness in fact he didn’t like it, but he didn’t say anything. The car kept rolling, and it felt like they were dri
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