Chloe adjusted the strap of her purse as she stepped up to the main villa door. The building was high class from its appearance. It was freezing cold from the rain drizzle. She knocked twice. A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing Mark. He looked pale, with dark circles under his eyes, his usual sharpness dulled by exhaustion. "You look terrible," Chloe said bluntly. Mark smirked, leaning against the doorframe. "Nice to see you too." She rolled her eyes and stepped inside. The villa was small but neat. A stack of unopened medication sat on the coffee table. Clearly, he hadn't taken any. "You didn’t tell me it was this bad. Krystie said it's just a fever," she said, crossing her arms. "It’s not." He moved toward the couch but winced as he lowered himself onto it. Chloe sighed, grabbing a chair and sitting across from him. "I came here because you clearly need someone to force you to take medication."Mark chuckled weakly. "And here I thought you just missed me."
Xavier sat alone at the edge of the bed in his bedroom. In his hand, he held the silver chain he had picked from Mark's house. His fingers traced the familiar grooves of the pendant, and for the first time in years, he allowed himself to remember. The orphanage had been a cruel place. At ten years old, Xavier had been weak. Not just physically, but in every way that mattered. The other boys took pleasure in stealing his food, pushing him into the dirt, and bullying him in all the cruel ways possible. He had learned that survival in such a place was for the strong. And Erick Jackson had been strong. He wasn’t just tough, he had a confidence that commanded either respect or fear. He was loved by the orphanage director, and he was appointed the leader of all the orphans, a title that Xavier had eyes on for years. When Xavier had been beaten to the ground too many times, it was Erick who had stepped in. Not because they were friends but out of pity for watching the weakling tra
Krystie adjusted her lab coat, her mind was elsewhere. She had received several leads from Agent D concerning the big boss, but only his identity remained. But as she stepped outside, her stride faltered. Alex. Leaning against his sleek, black sports car parked by the hospital’s main gate. Alex’s confident smirk was the same as it had always been. Dressed in a tailored jacket that hugged his broad shoulders, sunglasses perched lazily atop his head, his confident smirk carved into that arrogant face she once thought she loved. His posture screamed arrogance as if the world owed him something. Krystie’s jaw clenched. What the hell is he doing here? She considered walking past him, pretending he didn’t exist. But he pushed out of the car and intercepted her, blocking her path."Krystie," Alex’s voice was smooth, laced with the same cocky confidence that used to make her heart race. "We need to talk." "I don’t think we do," she shit back coldly, trying to sidestep him."Come o
Alex slammed the door to his apartment. His jaw throbbed from Lucian's punch. The metallic taste of blood lingered in his mouth, but it was nothing compared to the bitterness that clawed at his heart. He stumbled into the dimly lit living room, dragging his fingers through his tousled hair, his mind spiralling with rage and humiliation. Krystie’s icy words replayed in his mind, each syllable cutting deeper than the last. "How did I even fall in love with a douchebag like you?" He cursed under his breath, grabbing a half-empty bottle of whiskey from the counter and taking a long, burning swig. But it didn’t dull the ache or erase the image of Krystie running into Lucian’s arms, her voice dripping with affection that used to be his. He was still sipping the whiskey when he heard a faint creak from the bedroom. Slamming the bottle down, he stormed toward the noise, hoping against hope that it was not who he thought it was. And there she was. Cassandra. Lounging on his bed like
Alex’s hands felt colder than the morning air, even though they were tucked into his coat pockets. The city hall stood just a few metres from where he stood. Dressed in his usual three-piece tailored suit, Alex was looking as dashing as ever. His jaw remained clenched, and the bruises from Lucian’s punch were faint on his skin. He reached the steps of the city hall and paused, glancing at his watch. 7:45 AM. Fifteen minutes before he would be forced to tie the knot with her. Or so she thought. But he had a plan. His phone chimed with a notification. He slid his hand into his pocket and picked it up. 'Ready for action. Waiting for the target,' the notification read. Alex's lip twitched. Last night after Cassandra had left, Alex had made a call to a former acquaintance who specialises in making problems disappear. A man who didn’t ask questions as long as the price was right. Money was not a problem to Alex, as long as the problem before him was handled, he could give as much
The sky was draped in a thick blanket of grey clouds as if mourning alongside the small gathering at the cemetery with Cassandra’s name etched on the headstone. Krystie stood among the mourners, her face pale with black sunglasses draped over her eyes. The dark circles under her eyes betrayed the sleepless nights she had had. She wore a simple black dress, her hands trembling as she clutched the envelope Cassandra had given her. She had dared not open, afraid of what she might find. Her eyes remained fixed on the lowering casket, guilt gnawing at her core. The priest’s words faded into the background. She was only present physically. Chloe gently placed a hand on Krystie’s shoulder, her voice soft and reassuring. "Krystie, please stop blaming yourself. You did everything you could. You saved her. This wasn’t your fault." Krystie didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Her heart was heavy with unanswered questions. The logical side of her brain to accept life and death as part of the job w
The blood-stained envelope lay on the table, its edges crumpled. Krystie stared at it with a pounding heart. Chloe and Lucian sat across from her, anticipation evident on their faces. The silence between them was almost deafening. Krystie’s heart raced as she finally tore it open. The contents spilt out across the table, a stack of photographs faded with time, and a small note written in Cassandra's handwriting. Krystie reached for them with trembling fingers, afraid of what she might see. Chloe’s gasped, her fingers flying to her mouth. "Oh my God…" she whispered, her eyes darting from photo to photo. The first photo showed a strikingly handsome young man with piercing dark eyes and a charismatic smile. He was laughing, caught mid-motion, his arm around someone just out of frame. Krystie’s breath hitched. She recognized him from the countless times Lucian had mentioned him. Damien! Lucian’s elder brother. The same brother who had been murdered the day Krystie’s parents died
Krystie, Chloe, and Lucian sat in the living, each one deep in their thoughts. Krystie’s phone buzzed, breaking through the silence. She picked it up, her eyes narrowing as she read the message: Boss, there is another unauthorized surgery scheduled soon. Details are vague, but it’s happening within the next few days. Nancy. Krystie’s jaw tightened. She stood abruptly pacing around the room. They are not going to stop any soon, there's another scheduled surgery happening soon, she muttered, her voice low Lucian’s eyes darkened, but Chloe spoke first. "Then we need to stop them. We can’t sit here while people out there need our help. That's what Papa taught us. Krystie shook her head in frustration. "Exactly. But I don't know how to help them. I can’t go back into the hospital without drawing attention. I’m still under investigation. I was suspended, remember." A deafening silence followed until Chloe broke it. "Then that's the point where my plan comes into the picture. I t
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