"Krystie, do you by any chance have any idea who is the person who rescued you? I have been trying to find him, but I can't place exactly who the person is?" Lucian asked when he couldn't contain his curiosity any longer. Even though Krystie was unconscious by then, Lucian could not help but ask, it was already a week ever since the incident yet there was not a single person who had gone forward to claim they did it, after all in his world no one does a thing for free, they would either demand for one or two things at the end. "No, no one that I know as of the moment," Krystie replied hurriedly and walked away. She was not so good at lying, and she was afraid she would be found out if she were to stay a single second. Krystie could remember very well the face of the guy who had rescued her from the kidnappers. She had just regained her consciousness as soon as the van had halted in the middle of the road, and she had thought they were involved in an accident, but that was until s
"Your husband Lucian was the defendant lawyer of your father's killer seven years ago, and even your sister Chloe is aware of it." The notification read. Krystie drove all the way home, her heart racing, sweat dripping down her face. Krystie had only one hope as she drove to her house, she was hoping against hope that all this was not the truth. She could already feel her heart shattering into a million pieces imagining how betrayed she would feel as a result. Krystie's heart pounded as she sifted through the old newspaper clippings she had found on her house's notice board. With trembling hands, she unfolded an article dated seven years ago, the headline blaring the name of the man who had shattered her world: "Young Local Law Student Secures Acquittal for Murderer." Her eyes widened in disbelief as she read the name beneath the headline, Lucian Wilson, her husband. A wave of nausea washed over her, and she stumbled backwards, collapsing onto a nearby chair. How could th
"Krystie... Krystie, please don't leave me, I am very sorry," Lucian only called to the disappearing silhouette, but that was until he heard the shutting of the door did it finally occurred to him that she had left, yes, his wife had left him all alone, just because of what happened in the past many years. Frustrated, Lucian swiped the bowls of food across the room, sending the meals crashing all over the room, with soup covering the whole floor. He was very angry, angry with himself, angry with everything that happened seven years ago, and finally, he stumbled and sat on the floor as tears rolled down his eyes, unrestrained ~~~~~~~~~~~ "Lucian, it has already been a month yet you have never stepped foot in the company. Don't you think that it is high time that you move on? She's gone and will never come back again," Ronnie tried to convince a drunk Lucian he had been drinking for weeks now. Ever since Krystie left him that day, he had never been to his house, always sleeping i
Krystie had always thought of her godfather as a pillar of trust and support ever since the tragic loss of her parents in the mysterious accident. He had been her confidant, her rock in uncertainty, and also a role model to her in the field of medicine ever since she was young. Krystie has always shared with her godfather everything she was working on concerning the investigations. He had promised her that he would be more than willing to offer her any kind of support she might require from him. But lately, something had shifted in their relationship. At first, it was subtle. A fleeting glance here, a hesitant response there. But as time passed, Krystie couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. It was as if Xavier was wearing a mask, hiding behind a facade of concern while concealing something darker beneath the surface. It was during one of their regular meet-ups at a cosy cafe that Krystie began to notice the discrepancies. As she poured her heart out to Xavier recount
Krystie's heart raced as she listened to the chilling message left on her voicemail. It was a voice she knew too well yet had hoped never to hear in such dire circumstances, the gruff, menacing tone of someone from her dark past. "They've got him. You know what to do if you ever want to see him alive." "Who?" Krystie asked in confusion. "Who else? Lucian, your husband!" The voice gruff again. The words echoed in her mind as panic surged through her. Lucian, her dear husband, had been kidnapped. Fear gripped her heart. This was the same voice that had given her news of her parent's accident. She knew exactly who had taken him, remnants of the mafia that Krystie had tried so hard to leave behind. There was one secret she had kept from Lucian and Chloe, her true identity as the heir to one of the most notorious mafia families in the country. Lucian had no idea of her background, believing her to be an ordinary orphaned woman with a straightforward job in the city. Now, reveal
Krystie melted into Lucian’s embrace, her body finally relaxing after the storm of emotions. His steady heartbeat against her back was a comforting rhythm, a reminder that they both were safe, at least for now. But she knew this moment of peace wouldn't last. Slowly, she turned in his arms, looking up into his deep, ocean-blue eyes. How she had missed them, and his familiar cologne on her nostrils comforted her rapid-beating heart. Lucian stepped back, running a trembling hand through his hair. "Krystie, I'm very sorry about everything. I know whatever I might say now might do very little to ease the pain that I have caused you, but please hear me out. Lucian begged. He couldn't let Krystie walk away from him again. The last time she left him, his life was a mess, and it took him a whole month to compose himself." "The man who was blamed for your parents’ death didn't do it. That day he didn’t just lose his freedom but everything, including his own family. And now I think I un
Krystie pulled into the quiet suburban neighbourhood, her fingers tightening on the steering wheel as she exhaled. It had been a full month since she last saw her sister. As she stepped out of her car, she took a deep breath and approached the familiar front door. The porch light flickered slightly in the evening breeze. Before she could knock, the door swung open. "Krystie? You're back!" Her sister's voice was a mixture of relief and surprise. Krystie’s heart clenched at the sight of her. Soft brown hair framed her tired yet beautiful face, concern evident in her warm hazel eyes. "Hey, Chloe," Krystie murmured, forcing a small smile as she stepped inside. Chloe pulled her into a tight embrace, holding on longer than usual, as if afraid Krystie might disappear again. "I'm sorry, Krystie, for keeping everything away from you," Chloe spoke sadly. She had lost some weight, and Krystie knew she was the reason. Chloe detached herself from the embrace and took a step back. Kryst
Lucian adjusted the cap lower over his eyes as he pulled the delivery bag tighter against his back. He pulled up to the side of the street, just a block away from Krystie’s apartment. Slipping off his helmet, he reached into the delivery bag, pulling out a plain pizza box. The box was just a prop. Lucian dismounted the bike, his boots making barely a sound against the pavement. He took a steadying breath before approaching the apartment complex’s back entrance. The security system was a joke to him, very outdated. He punched in the entry code Krystie had given him months ago and slipped inside, making his way up the stairs instead of taking the elevator. When he reached her door, he knocked twice. A pause. Then the soft shuffle of feet. The door cracked open, and Krystie’s sharp gaze met his. She took in his disguise, her lips pressing into a thin line. She tried to suppress the laughter. "You look ridiculous," she muttered, stepping aside to let him in. Lucian smir
Mark stood in front of Chloe’s apartment door, his knuckles white from clenching his fists. He hesitated for a second before knocking. Chloe opened the door, surprised to see him, but the look on his face made her step aside without question. "Mark?" He stepped inside, but he couldn’t look at her. His voice broke almost immediately. "I accompanied Krystie to see my father." Chloe’s eyes widened slightly, but she waited. Mark exhaled a shaky breath and finally looked at her, eyes red. "He admitted everything, Chloe. He killed them. Your parents just because he was bitter and envious." His voice cracked. "And I’m his son. I carry his blood, he stammered. I... I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me. If you never forgave me. I wouldn't forgive me either." Before another word could leave his lips, Chloe pulled him into a hug. He was stiff at first, then broke down, crying into her shoulder. "I’m so sorry…" he whispered, his voice raw.Chloe gently patted his back, her voice soft. "You
The heavy steel doors of the Blackthorn Federal prison clanked open as Krystie and Mark stepped inside. The long corridor echoed with the distant occasional shout from inmates. Guards led them in silence toward the visitation room. Neither Krystie nor Mark spoke. They all had lots of unanswered questions they desired answers to. It had been a month since the judgement, but Krystie had one more thing she desired to know. They were shown to a cold metal table. A few seconds later, Mr. Xavier was escorted in, clad in his prison uniform, hands cuffed, his once well-groomed face now unkempt beard and hollow eyes. But his smirk remained. "Well, well," he drawled, taking his seat and leaning back as far as the restraints would allow as if he were still the one in control. "See who finally decided to visit me if not my dear son and goddaughter. I was wondering how long it would take for the prodigies to come visit me. Have you come to gloat?" Krystie didn’t waste time. She straightened a
The courtroom buzzed as Xavier West was escorted inside, clad in an orange prison uniform that couldn’t quite mask the pride still etched in his posture. His expression remained composed, almost arrogant. His attorney, Mr. Clarke, adjusted his tie and leaned over. "Relax. We’ve got the best money we can buy. The judges are in our pocket. There’s no hard evidence they can use. We’ll have this thrown out in a week." Xavier didn’t respond, only stared at the room with cool detachment. Journalists filled the benches, their cameras flashing and pens ready. The public gallery overflowed with curious onlookers, family members of victims, and a few hospital staff. Xavier’s smirk returned when he saw the judges entering, three men he knew well, the judges from his case seven years ago. The lead judge struck the gavel, and announced, "Court is now in session. Case number 2328: The People vs. Xavier West." The prosecution began with an impassioned speech, laying out the charges including hu
At the boardroom on the top floor of Regal Hospital, sunlight filtered through the tall windows, where Mr. Xavier West sat at the head of the polished table, flanked by board members and stakeholders. All were dressed in fine suits, sipping imported coffee as they discussed the hospital’s future, oblivious to the storm that was about to hit.Xavier wore his usual calm mask, a faint smile plastered on his face as he nodded at a proposal from the finance director. "If we accelerate the expansion plans for our offshore branches, we can double our quarterly revenue," he said smoothly, exuding confidence and control.The silence shattered when the heavy double doors burst open without warning. Ben, Mr Xavier's personal assistant, stood there panting, sweat trickling on his forehead, his tie crooked as if he'd run all the way."Ben," Xavier barked, his eyes narrowing. "What the hell do you think you’re doing? You don’t barge in here when I’m in a meeting, especially not with the board!"Be
Krystie pulled her hood lower and stepped into the dimly lit back hallway of the Regal Hospital’s records wing. The place had been shut down for maintenance, but she knew better. Mark waited inside, pacing around nervously until he saw, Chloe behind her. "Took you long enough." "I had a meet-up with someone earlier, so I couldn't make it on time. I also had to make sure no one was tailing me," Krystie murmured. "Where’s Nancy?" "Already in the archives, decrypting the lock. She said she found something about shipments, offshore accounts and patient transfer names.” Krystie’s eyes narrowed. "Good. Let’s go." They moved quickly through the corridor, slipping past closed doors and inactive security cameras, courtesy of Nancy. In the sub-basement level, the archive room stood with its heavy, metal door already cracked open. Inside, Nancy hunched over a desk, documents and flash drives spread out on the table before her and a triumphant smile at the corners of her lips "Told you
Krystie stepped into Mr. Xavier’s study, her outer appearance relaxed but her mind was on high alert. He was sitting behind his large mahogany desk with an unreadable expression as he sipped his whiskey. "You’ve been out of reach for quite some time, busy?" he inquired, his tone casual, but his sharp gaze assessing her. Krystie offered a small, tired smile. "Just trying to move forward, and finding something else to do. O hospital wants to hire someone like me after the scandal." Mr. Xavier gestured toward the chair opposite him. " I'm so sorry about that. Take a seat." She did, crossing her legs as she waited for him to speak. "I need your help," he finally said, setting his glass down, his gaze softening a little. "Help?" Krystie tilted her head slightly. "With what?" "There’s a friend of mine who’s in some trouble." He paused, gauging her reaction. "I was hoping you could ask your husband, Lucian, to help him." Krystie stiffened slightly, lowering her gaze as if strug
Mr King stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of his private office, his sharp gaze fixed on the city skyline. His brother still lay in the hospital bed, barely alive. The doctors had told him the chances of him waking up were only five per cent, or he might end up in a vegetable state because of the damage to the brain. The thought that the man who had done all this to his brother was walking around freely irked him to the core, and tonight he was going to make him pay, even if it meant shedding his own blood. Leo entered the room snapping him from his thoughts. "The men are ready, boss. We have got eyes on the big boss’s main warehouse near the port. Word is, a shipment is coming in tonight with illegal firearms." Mr. King turned with a playful smirk at the corner of his mouth. "Good. Tell them to move immediately. No mistakes." Leo nodded and stepped away hurriedly to relay the command. Mr King reached for the drawer where the folder Joel had sent him several weeks ago la
Mr. King sat in his luxurious office, his mind elsewhere. His fingers tapped impatiently against the polished surface of his desk while his other hand gripped his phone tightly. It was already three days. Three damn days without a single word from his brother. His younger brother had never gone this long without answering his calls or at least checking in. He had a bad premonition about it! Mr King exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. His sources inside the big boss’s operations had gone quiet too, which only deepened his unease. Something was wrong. His phone buzzed, jolting him from his thoughts. It was an unknown number. Frowning, he hesitated before answering. "Who is this?" His voice was sharp and demanding. Silence. Then a distorted voice, as if through a voice changer. "Your brother is in critical condition at St. Lucy's Hospital." A cold chill ran through Mr King's spine. His grip tightened on the phone. "What the hell are you talking about? Who are you?" "Wh
The meeting room inside the warehouse was dimly lit with only a single overhead light. Across the wooden table, the men seated around with tension on their faces. The big boss sat at the head of the table, his gloved fingers tapping rhythmically against the wooden table. His dark mask hid his expression, but the sharp glint in his eyes was enough to send chills through the men seated before him. His patience had run out. Ben stood beside him silently, watching as the others shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Every man in the room knew that meetings like these never ended well. Someone wasn’t going to walk out of this room alive. The big boss finally spoke, his voice calm. "We have a big problem!" He leaned back in his chair. "You see, everything has been going to hell lately. Our plan was interfered with, the dock was wiped clean, our men tortured, and Dr Lawrence returned to us in a state that not even the devil himself would wish upon his worst enemy. He let the words s