Joe followed Rosie a few steps away from her friends, their murmurs fading into the background. Rosie stopped abruptly, crossing her arms and glaring at him. "What do you want, Joe? You already ruined my evening."Joe ignored her irritation, cutting straight to the point. "Did you know that Aaron is blaming your father for the threats he’s been getting?"Rosie’s eyes narrowed. “That scumbag,” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. She glanced around before leaning in slightly, her voice lowering. “Of course, he’d try to pull something like that. You know what? The police came to raid our house because of his claims. Do you know how humiliating that was?”Joe raised an eyebrow. " I know. What I’m more concerned about is what the police found.”Rosie huffed, rolling her eyes."They came across a bunch of letters in my father’s study. They even brought some man with them—some big shot or whatever—and thanks to him, my father didn’t get arrested." She crossed her arms tighte
“This is crazy,” Hannah’s voice broke Joe’s thoughts gaining his attention. “What are you going to do about it?” Joe shook his head. “I don’t know yet but I have this feeling this might be the break I need.”“Maybe meeting this person may not be that bad.” Joe added.Hannah looked at him with a firm gaze. “Joe, I don’t think it’s a good idea to meet this person. It could be a setup.” Joe leaned back, he shot her a thoughtful gaze. “It’s risky, I know. But the message says they know who’s working for Aaron. What if they can really help me?” “And what if they’re luring you into a trap?” Hannah shot back, her voice rising slightly. “I don’t think you should go.” “I’ll take Timothy with me,” Joe said, trying to sound reassuring. “Timothy? That dumbo?” Hannah exclaimed. Joe gave her a sharp look. “Hey, that’s my friend.” Hannah sighed and softened her tone. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think taking Timothy is the answer. In fact, I don’t think you should go at all. I don’t want an
“I’m here. “ Joe texted the unknown number announcing his arrival. “Where are you?”The reply came almost instantly: “Walk forward. You’ll see a small home. Enter.”Joe glanced around. There wasn’t much to see in the dim moonlight, but after taking a few steps forward his eyes soon settled on the outline of a small cottage a short distance away. The place looked deserted , the kind of house where no sane person would live. “This better be worth it,” Joe muttered to himself as increased his steps. He approached the cottage cautiously, his shoes crunching against the gravel. The door was ajar, and the faint glow of a dim light bulb spilled out into the night. As he stepped inside, the door creaked ominously, the sound making him flinch. “Come forward,” a bold, deep voice instructed from somewhere within the shadows. Joe froze. The voice was commanding, and the darkness beyond the dim bulb made it impossible to see anything clearly. “Who are you?” Joe demanded, his voice sound
Joe kept a safe distance, careful not to let Aaron spot him as he followed him through the dark, winding streets. He had been tracking Aaron for what felt like hours, and his patience was wearing thin, but the tension in his chest was only getting worse. Aaron had led him to a secluded part of town, far from the places Joe knew. As he followed Aaron, Joe came to a stop at a building on the outskirts of town. From a distance, it appeared abandoned, its cracked windows and peeling paint offering a silent warning. But as Joe moved closer, he realized he’d been wrong. The place wasn’t abandoned at all. There was activity inside—men moving in and out of the building, their figures disappearing into the shadows. Joe stayed hidden behind the cover of a nearby wall, crouching low to avoid detection. He could hear muffled voices, but there was no way to tell what was going on. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he forced himself to stay calm. He had to keep track of Aaron. He co
Joe stared at Hannah as she stood across the room, jotter in hand, her intense gaze fixed on him. “Victor is our main target,” she said firmly, her tone unyielding. Joe leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. “You think Victor is the key to all of this? What about Aaron? He’s the one making all these moves, stirring the pot. We get Aaron captured, beat some answers out of him, and—” “That’s not happening,” Hannah interjected sharply. She lowered the jotter, taking a step closer to him. “Getting Aaron would be too difficult. He’s slippery, Joe. He knows how to avoid trouble. Victor, on the other hand, is someone we can crack. He’s not as loyal as he pretends to be.” Joe sighed, clearly unconvinced. “Aaron isn’t smart, Hannah. He’s reckless and easy to bait. Victor, though? He’s too calculated. That makes him harder to pin down.” The room fell into contemplative silence as they wrestled with their thoughts. Suddenly, Hannah spoke again. “How are you going to get to Aaron,
Joe pulled into the same location that Puck had once brought him to. It was evening, and he had left the office in a hurry.He didn’t believe that he would ever come back here but here he was.He parked the car and stared out at the building ahead, recalling the moment he opened the envelope and saw Victor’s name scrawled across the message. The shock of the invitation still lingered on Joe’s mind. He couldn’t believe Victor wanted to meet. Joe couldn’t decide if this was an opportunity or a trap. He stepped out of the car, his boots crunching against the gravel, and immediately spotted Victor leaning casually against the wall of the building, his silhouette illuminated by the faint glow of a single, flickering bulb above the doorway. Victor appeared calm, though Joe knew better than to trust appearances.Victor straightened up as Joe approached, flashing a thin smile. “Surprised you actually showed up.”Joe stopped a few feet away, keeping his guard up. “I could say the same to y
The evening light streamed through the half-opened blinds of Joe’s study, casting long shadows over the cluttered desk. Joe stood in the middle of the room, a furrow etched into his brow as he waved a piece of paper in the air. Timothy paced near the bookshelf, visibly agitated. “Your father was involved with a gang!” Timothy yelled, his voice echoing through the room. Joe looked up from the papers he had been rifling through. His expression was calm, but his voice displayed a different emotion. “I’m as shocked as you are, Timothy,” he replied. “Victor called them the Sanchez gang.” “How are you so sure he’s not lying to you?” Timothy demanded, with his arms crossed. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to find out,” Joe said. “Victor said if I dig through my father’s things, I’ll find clues—something that proves what he’s saying is true.” Timothy paused his pacing, leaning against the desk. “And how exactly does Victor know about all this?” Joe sighed and placed the paper back
“6-2-6-5,” Timothy yelled, throwing his hands in the air, but the joy in his voice slipped away the moment he saw that the box wasn’t opened yet.“Fuck this!” He muttered to himself, but his words had caught Joe’s attention.“Let me have a go!” Joe said, leaning forward.The night had slipped away quietly, unnoticed by the trio. Joe, Timothy, and John had spent hours trying to crack the code of the box they found. But despite the numerous numbers they tried, nothing seemed to unlock the box.Timothy, who had been absent-mindedly tapping his fingers on the edge of the desk, suddenly jolted upright. He glanced at his watch and let out a frustrated exhale.“I have a date,” Timothy announced as he stood up from his chair.Joe turned toward him, surprised. “A date?” He couldn’t believe the timing.“Yeah, man,” Timothy replied. “I’m sorry, but I have to leave.” He gathered his things, still looking regretful, but his expression soon softened with a smirk. “Thanks for letting me help out,
“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