Mag-log in“Who are we meeting this time?” Lucy asked, puzzled. “Isn’t it just a new partner?”James looked at her seriously. “They’re from Harbour City. I’m warning you now, behave yourself. We can’t afford to offend them.”The phrase 'can’t afford to offend' made Lucy inwardly scoff. There were far too many people they supposedly could not afford to offend.When she did not respond, James’s tone sharpened. “What? Are you not listening to me?”Only then did she answer reluctantly. “I got it, James.”—The banquet was much the same as always. The so-called elites clustered together, clinking glasses, exchanging pleasantries, talking business and politics.As the host, James was busy the entire evening, weaving between groups, managing conversations, maintaining relationships.Lucy, on the other hand, had little to do.Dressed in a striking red gown, she drew attention wherever she went.Just as she was growing tired of polite smiles and meaningless small talk, a group of four or five me
Anthony immediately understood. “No, no. I just didn’t expect it to happen this fast.”He had not fully prepared himself, but the car was already pulling up in front of the prison.He glanced at Steven in the back seat, clenched his jaw, and stepped inside.Steven leaned against the car door and lit a cigarette. Smoke curled upward toward the afternoon sun.After a long while, Anthony finally walked out of the prison. The moment he saw Steven, he let out a relieved smile.Steven instantly understood. Vivian had given him the information.“Get in.”He opened the passenger door and gestured for Anthony to sit in the front.Steven got into the driver’s seat and waited until Anthony buckled up.“The address.” Anthony handed over a folded piece of paper.Steven unfolded it casually, glanced at the handwritten location, then tucked it away.“What excuse did you use?” he asked lightly, as if making small talk.Anthony straightened his back. “I told her Old Mr. Wilson found a way t
“Your mother’s been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, hasn’t she?” Zachary said coldly. “Dr. Seth’s next research focus happens to be Alzheimer’s treatment. His team will have a new targeted medication. We can make a deal.”Anthony’s unease deepened. “What kind of deal?”“I need the whereabouts of someone. Only Vivian knows. You get that information from her, and I’ll secure a portion of the Alzheimer’s medication for you. Fair trade.”“I…” Anthony hesitated, unable to decide.Steven stepped in smoothly. “Be smart. Vivian’s been sentenced to life. She’s never walking out again. And Old Mr. Wilson’s condition… you probably know better than we do how much time he has left.” His voice turned sharper. “Anthony, you don’t want the day to come when your own mother doesn’t recognize you, do you?”Anthony’s wavering gave Zachary a glimmer of hope.“Think carefully,” Zachary added evenly. “And one more thing. If you refuse, we’ll revisit the medication theft. You didn’t just steal it. You used
Lucas bent down to gather the scattered files from the floor, about to hand them back to Sarah.“You don’t need to,” she said, waving him off. Her trembling finger pointed at the photo in her hand. “It’s him.”The fear from years ago rushed back in an instant. Her voice shook. “It’s him. I recognize him.”Lucas did not understand why Sarah would know the scarred man Mia had described, but seeing her reaction, he chose not to ask. Some questions were better left unspoken.Zachary, however, did not look surprised. He reached out and gripped one corner of the page.But Sarah was holding it so tightly that it would not budge. Only when Zachary softly called her name did she snap out of it.“Huh? What is it?”Zachary gently took the file from her and studied it. “He’s been in prison six times. All for assault and violent conduct. But after being released a few years ago, he hasn’t been back.”Sarah nodded, then asked the question that mattered most. “Can we find him?”“Yes. As long
Mia looked at her freshly painted pink nails. A tiny bunny sticker sat on her ring finger. She gave a faint smile. “They’re pretty.”After what had happened last time, she had improved a little. At least now she could manage simple conversations with Lucas.As he carefully brushed on another coat of polish, Lucas spoke gently. “Mia, that dream you had wasn’t real. Nothing happened. Sarah didn’t die.”“She did,” Mia said flatly.“Why would you say that?”Mia slowly lifted her hand as if she wanted to touch his face. Lucas leaned closer without hesitation. “What is it?”When her fingertips felt the warmth of his cheek, she seemed to relax. Then she glanced around, making sure no one was nearby. Only then did she whisper in a trembling voice, “It was a nightmare. A nightmare. I was so scared. They killed Sister Sarah.”“Mia, none of that was real,” Lucas said quickly, trying to soothe her.He blamed himself. He should not have asked.But this was something Zachary and Sarah neede
The hospital gardens were filled with common, uninspired blooms, but the lush greenery provided a much-needed sanctuary from the sterile white walls.Steven pushed Scarlett’s wheelchair to the center of the garden, where the sunlight hit the grass in golden pools. He spotted a fallen blossom on the path, picked it up, and gently tucked it behind her ear.He took a few steps back, his eyes softening as he looked at her. Despite the hospital gown and the pallor of her skin, she was breathtaking. "Scarlett," he whispered, his voice thick with a sudden, raw sincerity. "You’re so beautiful."Hearing those words, Scarlett didn't smile. Instead, her eyes welled up, and she began to sob—a quiet, heartbreaking sound that tore through the peaceful afternoon. In a room high above, Scarlett’s father drifted awake to an empty suite. His assistant was likely back at the office, executing his latest round of orders.He glanced at the bedside table and saw a thermal carafe. A small sticky note w







