James studied Martha’s picture with a mixture of confusion and intrigue, unsure of how to process this newfound revelation. The day had been a whirlwind of unexpected surprises, and while he couldn't quite put his finger on it, something deep within him was reacting strongly to the situation. "This auntie you see in the picture," Ethan piped up, "I met her for the first time just a few days ago. She isn't very fond of Mommy, you know. And as I've already mentioned to you, mister, Mommy and I used to live abroad." James nodded slowly, processing the young boy's words. "Oh, I see." Still, he couldn't help but wonder, 'Why does she harbor ill feelings towards his mother?' Hunter, having concluded his business call, approached the group, his eyes full of curiosity. Bending down to Ethan's eye level, he ruffled the boy's hair while trying to discern the subject of their intense discussion. "What's caught all of your attention so intently?" His gaze shifted from one person to another, se
Elenora could vividly recall the scandalous tale of Isabella and Miguel Fernandez, as it was almost impossible to forget. The intense media frenzy erupted just about two years ago and had captivated the attention of the global audience, with prying eyes and gossiping mouths scrutinizing every development. Tabloids voraciously devoured each fragment of information, disseminating it to an audience that was equally ravenous for salacious details. Miguel Fernandez, a magnate with a formidable presence in the oil industry, had infamously betrayed his strikingly beautiful wife, engaging in an affair with a student. The scandal permeated headline after headline, captivating the global audience, all of whom were dissatisfied when the full truth of the matter remained shrouded in mystery. Immersed in the narrative, individuals felt they were deserving of the complete story, even though the intimate details of the couple's saga should have ideally remained their own. Nonetheless, once the stor
Hunter cautiously set the little boy down onto his own two feet. He then desperately tried to force the windows open, but they remained stubbornly shut, having been locked by the system for security purposes. In Hunter's perception, time seemed to stretch and warp. Every second felt like a minute, every minute an hour. The weight of the situation pressed on him, making each breath he took feel more labored and each beat of his heart more pronounced. His increasing distress contrasted with Christine’s attempts to mask her aversion to heights. Whether it was genuine fear or an odd sense of self-preservation became irrelevant in the gravity of the present circumstance. His condition was palpably more serious. "Mommy, what's wrong with Daddy?" Ethan inquired, his voice a breathless whisper, the abrupt shift in his father's demeanor ringing alarm bells in his young mind. "I'm fine, no worries, champ!" Hunter reassured, raking shaky fingers through his hair, yet the visible distress etch
Until they reached the ground, the ride descended into an awfully tangible silence, a quiet that seemed to consume the space around them, wrapping them tightly in its invisible grip. Although it might have appeared that they were all engrossed, gazing through the glass wall, in stark reality, they were just staring into an abyss of nothingness. Christine cradled Ethan tenderly in her arms, her posture radiating an unspoken, fierce protectiveness. Once the immediate dread for Hunter's safety had dissipated, a wave of chilling concern for her son cascaded through her, washing over her in chilly, unsettling waves. Ethan's small frame was still trembling slightly, a manifestation of the massive guilt he was internalizing. For a boy of merely five, such guilt was a colossal weight, a burden too profound. His innocent wish had only ever been for his parents to be closer, to spend more cherished moments as a family. 'Did I make Daddy sick? What if he never forgives me? Or worse, never spea
Christine felt her composure threatening to falter, and she wondered anxiously what revelation her handsome boy might share next. “I believe we’ve had enough excitement for today. Ethan needs to complete his homework for tomorrow, and it’s getting quite late,” she said, trying to divert the topic. Ethan’s expression clouded with confusion. “But, Mommy, I don’t have any homework. You know that, right?” She mentally groaned. ‘My son might be a genius in some respects, but sometimes he misses out on the simple cues. Right now, is one of those frustrating moments.’ Christine masterfully suppressed the urge to theatrically roll her eyes—what practical purpose would it serve, anyway? “Sweetie, we should head out; your grandpa is expecting us back home.” She gently extracted Ethan from Hunter’s grasp, enveloping him in her own protective arms. Hunter, not wanting the evening to end, suggested, “Why not stay a little longer? I promise I won't press any further, if that's what's troubling
‘Why is this uncle always getting his nose in other people's business?’‘Damn!’ Hunter cursed in his mind. ‘Why such bad timing? I cannot even convince myself to feel sorry for what I was about to do. Am I becoming a really bad person?’When nobody seemed willing to answer his question, Simon posed another one. “What are the three of you doing together?”Christine took in the gloominess crossing his usually cheerful features, and it instantly made her feel like a villain in his story. She did remember how the one he loved in the past betrayed him. And though she did not believe he held such great feelings for her as well, he was not deserving of the poor treatment from her side.‘How did I manage to get myself into th
The atmosphere was wrapped into an awkward silence for the first two or three glasses of cocktails, none of them uttering a word. Moreover, they stared blankly, each of them undeniably deeply trapped inside their heads with their own demons. “Can I get you anything more?” The waiter smiled while asking them, but no response came. Caressing his chin, Simon asked Martha. “Maybe… we should go?” A single tear rolled on her cheek. “You can leave. I’m staying.” She then glanced at the waiter. “Please keep the cocktails coming.” The waiter’s gaze landed on Simon to receive a silent approval and he probably gave it, as it took a few minutes to return with another set of colorful drinks. “Why are you still here?” She locked
A few hours ago:Jake understood that Christine was appalled by the mere thought that a ruthless murdered might be her father, so he needed to find out the truth. Not knowing is always worse than knowing, is fucking torment if one were to ask his opinion.‘She even ignored the danger by requesting me to contact him the other day.’It’s been days since he cloned Markus’ phone and started tracking his activity and he found out nothing. Why was that? To Jake’s surprise, there was not much activity at all.He didn’t dismiss the idea that the man discovered his little trick, therefore, he had to act as soon as possible. On the grounds of that, he decided to contact him.[“I’d like to meet you. I’m a friend of Christine Carter, I believe you remember me.”]He stared at the phone waiting for a reply. ‘Would he even text me back? Better not hold my breath.&rsquo