After a short weekend of doing ‘hoodrat shit’—which really consisted of Ava and I binge watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer and eating about ten thousand calories—it’s Sunday morning, and I’m making cappuccinos while I patiently wait for my freshly baked chocolate chip banana bread to cool.
“Alright, I think I’m good to go?”
I smile softly as I avert my gaze to Ava, eyeing her as she emerges from my bedroom with her make-up bag in her hand. She stuffs it into her travel bag, zipping it shut before lowering herself onto the couch to slide her boots on.
The hardest part about having less than a handful of friends is that they all live in different cities or states and I don’t get to see them very often. I’m a lonely person because I make it harder than it needs to be to connect with people on a deeper level than the surface, and it's intentional.
I have a no-tolerance policy,
I stare blankly at the table, the chatter of my teammates fading into background noise as I sit in the conference room. My eyes feel heavy, my mind foggy from last night’s restless sleep. The conversation I had with Ava about Cade and his father has been haunting me, playing on a loop in my head. “Elysian,” Cade’s sharp voice calls for my attention, snapping me out of my daze. “What do you have for me?” What? … Oh, right! I blink, scrambling to gather my thoughts. “I, uh…I’m just finishing up some documentation,” I mumble, evidently unprepared. “But otherwise, I’m open to taking on any new projects.” Cade chuckles softly, a condescending smirk twisting his features. “Documentation? Isn’t that something you should’ve handled last week? Or have you been too busy daydreaming to get your work done?” Um..? I feel the heat rising in my cheeks, embarrassment and anger washing over me. “No, I
The next morning, as I drive to work, the cool, fresh air of a 6AM Tuesday morning hardly does anything to calm my nerves or settle the uneasiness in my stomach. I spent the better part of last night thinking about all the ways I could get caught doing what I’m about to do and how I could avoid being caught.The unfortunate truth is that the system automatically sends out a report of any firewall rule changes made. Fortunately, because it’s automated, hardly anyone ever looks at the report thoroughly. Most engineers merely glance over it to see if the change was successful, but no one ever takes the time to actually go through the report thoroughly.Ultimately, the odds of anyone finding out are about the same as the odds of someone not only thoroughly going through the report but also conducting a packet inspection on all traffic pertaining to the specific server.So…ten percent?…I’ll take my
If it were you, would you want to know?After having repeatedly read through the printed copy of Cade’s file over the past three days, I keep hoping that I’ll have some sort of revelation as to why his father hated me so much that he resorted tothis.Between the evaluation and the treatment report, the only thing that I learned was that I was right in suspecting that Cade never volunteered for that hypnosis treatment.He was drugged.I wish that I could say that I had prepared myself for it, but learning that throughout the entire process, he was never lucid nearly sent me over the edge.His mind has been bent and toyed with, and he doesn’t even know…Despite wanting to know how it was possible, out of whatever respect there is left for the privacy of it, I refrained from telling anyone—including Ava.I haven’t experienced this much prolonged anxiety for so long sin
⊰ Cade ⊱I sit in my home office, staring at the pair of monitors in front of me, feeling as though the expansive room is closing in on me, my thoughts racing. Just as Elysian asked me to, I completed the packet inspection. I should’ve braced myself, but nothing could’ve prepared me for what I found.This has to be a mistake…My gaze wanders around the room, taking in the floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a stunning view of the city skyline, the sleek, modern furniture, and state-of-the-art technology surrounding me. But even the familiar comfort of my meticulously designed space doesn’t ease the sickening feeling that settled in the pit of my stomach the moment my inspection was complete.What the hell is in that file..? And why the hell would she risk her career to access it?…Why does it have my name on it?I lean back in my leather chair, runni
What is he doing here..?…How does he even know where I live?Again, he knocks, and again, Bubbles emits a singular bark.I raise my voice, shouting through the door, “Just a moment!” I place my hands on the side of Bubbles’ legs, urging him to move with me. “Come on, buddy,” I whisper, guiding him to my bedroom where I point to his bed and tell him, “Go lay down.”With this, I shut the bedroom door and turn in the direction of the front door, my heart pounding in my chest. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the confrontation I know is coming. As I unlock the door and pull it open, my eyes lock with Cade’s. There’s a desperate, uncertain look on his face as he draws his hands into his pockets.“Hi,” I breathe out after a moment, my voice steadier than I feel.I won’t pretend that I have no idea what he’s here for. Th
I’ve never dreaded doing something as much as I do today. After a torturously short weekend, I find myself sitting in the parking garage outside of the office building, wishing that I had stayed home.I should’ve called in sick or used my PTO hours…I don’t know how I’m supposed to face him. It was easier before. I stayed out of his way, and he tolerated me. Now? Now, I don’t know if things are going to go back to how they were or if they should—if they ever could.With heavy steps, I somehow manage to find my desk twice as fast as usual.Well, itfeelsthat way, anyway.Between brief good mornings, the rest of the team sporadically trickle in, settling at their desks before 8:30AM—except for Cade.He’s never late…I’m not the only one that notices. Krina furrows her eyebrows, glancing up at his empty office.“Pst.&rdq
“Oh! Can we get a to-go boxes, please?” Krina kindly asks the waiter before he excuses himself.As promised, Krina invited me to have lunch with her today. Between shoving bread rolls down our throats and a long conversation about the upcoming IPv6 migration project, we hardly touched our food.I regret none of it. Those were the best bread rolls I’ve had in my entire life.The waiter returns swiftly with boxes and receipts for Krina to sign. “Thank y’all so much. Y’all have a great day!” he says with a warm smile.I offer him a small smile, averting my gaze to the half-eaten steak and rice as I slide it into the foam carry-out box.“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but…” Krina pauses as she packs her plate. I look up and meet her curious gaze. “Do you have a boyfriend?”That didn’t take her very long.I’m not surprised by her question.
It’s not a date. There are people who are punctual–like me. I’m always conscious of time, a sticker for being on schedule. Then, there are people who are not so punctual–like Cade. He believes that punctuality is only warranted for things that ‘matter’ or are ‘important’. Does this fall under the category of ‘important’? It’s 5 minutes to 8PM, and I’ve switched out cardigans twice and rearranged the cushions on the couch four times. I’m not in denial. I’m very aware of how nervous this shouldn’t make me. I’m also very aware of how unnecessarily anxious I am, and if there were a way to cope by merely acknowledging my discomfort, I wouldn’t be pacing so much between re-doing chores that I had already done the moment that I got home. At Bubbles’ very audible sigh, I snap my eyes to meet his beautiful golden-brown ones. “You’re just tired of my shit, aren’t you?” I ask sarcastically. As if on cue, a knock echoes t
⊰ Keegan ⊱Six years.Six years of playing the long game, of carefully maneuvering myself into position.And finally, it’s about to pay off.I stand in Cade Sinclair’s opulent office, my face a mask of professional concern as I listen to James deliver the news about David’s disappearance. The tension in the room is heavy, thick enough to cut with a knife. The scent of expensive leather and polished wood fills my nostrils, not exactly the grimy back alleys and smoke-filled rooms I’ve spent my most of my life in.I’ve been in this game for nearly half my life. The mafia has been my only family since I was eighteen, a scared kid with nothing to lose and everything to prove. Now, twelve years later, I’m Levi Carter’s right-hand man, trusted with the most delicate operations.Like this one.“What do you mean he’s disappeared?” Cade’s voice is low, dangerous. I’ve seen that look in his eyes before—it’s the look of a man ready to burn the world down to protect what’s his. It’s a look I know w
The soft afternoon light filters through the gauzy curtains, casting a warm glow over the living room. I'm nestled into the plush corner of our sectional, the fabric cool against my skin. Naomi is curled up beside me, her small body radiating heat like a tiny furnace. The rhythmic sound of her breathing is punctuated by the occasional soft snore, a sound that never fails to make my heart swell.I run my fingers through her silky hair, marveling at how something so simple can fill me with such overwhelming love. The scent of her baby shampoo—a mix of lavender and vanilla—wafts up, mingling with the lingering aroma of the Ramen I made for lunch.I can never get enough of you.Just a month ago, I was sitting in a sterile hospital room, the harsh fluorescent lights burning my eyes as I waited, heart in pieces, to hear if my baby would survive. The memory of that fear, that soul-crushing dread, still haunts me. The beeping of machines, the hushed voices of doctors, the antiseptic smell tha
⊰ Cade ⊱The leather chair creaks softly as I lean back, my eyes scanning the faces of the board members seated around the long mahogany table. A month has passed since the accident, a month of sleepless nights and tense days, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But there's been nothing but silence from my father.Now, as I sit in this boardroom, the empty chair at the head of the table looms large. David Sinclair's absence is a palpable thing, filling the room with unasked questions and uneasy glances.“Ladies and gentlemen,” I begin, my voice steady despite the knot of tension in my gut, “I think we all know why we’re here today.”There’s a murmur of agreement, a shuffling of papers. I can see the mix of emotions on their faces—concern, curiosity, and in some, barely concealed ambition.“My father’s… absence… has left a void in the leadership of Sinclair Enterprises,” I continue, choosing my words carefully. “A void that needs to be filled if we’re to move forward.”I lay out the si
The harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital room bore into my eyes, amplifying the throbbing in my head. The antiseptic smell burns my nostrils, a sickening reminder of where I am and why. My body aches, each movement sending sharp pains through my bruised ribs, but it's nothing compared to the agony in my heart as I wait for news about Naomi.The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor feels like it's drilling into my skull, matching the frantic pace of my own heartbeat. Cade sits beside me, his hand clasped tightly in mine, his thumb tracing soothing circles on my skin. But even his touch can't calm the storm raging inside me.“What if she doesn’t make it?” The words escape me in a choked whisper, giving voice to the fear that’s been gnawing at my insides. “Cade, what if our baby doesn’t—”“Don’t,” Cade cuts me off, his voice rough but steady. “She’s going to be fine. She has to be.”But I can’t stop myself from spiraling with dark thoughts. Images of Naomi, broken and bleeding, flas
⊰ Cade ⊱The hospital corridor is a blur of white walls and fluorescent lights as I race towards the emergency room. My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my throat, each beat a reminder of how quickly life can change.Elysian and Naomi. My wife and daughter. In a car accident.The words keep repeating in my head, a nightmarish mantra I can't shake. When I got the call, it felt like the ground had disappeared from under my feet. Now, as I burst through the ER doors, that feeling returns tenfold.“I’m looking for Elysian Sinclair and Naomi Sinclair,” I bark at the nurse behind the desk, my voice rough with fear and barely contained panic. “They were brought in after a car accident. Where are they?”The nurse, to her credit, doesn’t flinch at my tone. She types quickly into her computer, then looks up at me with sympathy in her eyes. “Mrs. Sinclair is in room 305. Your daughter is currently in surgery.”Surgery..?The word tightens the knot in my chest, making it hard to breathe
The shrill of my phone cuts through the quiet of the afternoon, startling Naomi from her play. I glance at the screen, my heart sinking as I see Ava’s name flashing there. Just like it has every day for the past two weeks.I've been avoiding her calls, still raw from the revelation of her involvement in Cade's hypnosis. But today, something makes me pause. Maybe it's the weariness of carrying this anger, or maybe it's the tiny voice in my head reminding me of all the years of friendship we shared.Whatever it is, I find myself answering.“Hello?” My voice sounds strained even to my own ears.“Elys?” Ava’s voice is hesitant, hopeful. “I… I wasn’t sure you’d pick up.”I close my eyes, fighting the urge to hang up. “What do you want, Ava?”“I’m in town,” she says quickly, as if afraid I’ll cut her off. “I was hoping we could talk. Face to face.”Part of me wants to refuse, to shut her out completely. But another part, the part that remembers late-night study sessions and shared secrets,
⊰ Cade ⊱I approach my father’s office, not bothering to knock. I push the door open, stepping into the spacious office that’s been the backdrop for so many of our conversations over the years. The room is bathed in the soft glow of a desk lamp, casting long shadows across the polished mahogany furniture and the floor-to-ceiling windows that offer a panoramic view of the city below.And there he is, David Sinclair himself, looking up from his desk with a mixture of surprise and annoyance on his face. His salt-and-pepper hair is immaculately styled as always, his crisp white shirt a stark contrast to the dark wood of his chair.“Cade? What are you doing here at this hour?”I meet his gaze, unflinching. “We need to talk, Dad. About a lot of things.” I eye him for a moment, letting the words sink in before adding, “Let’s start with the hypnosis.”The color drains from his face, but he quickly composes himself, his features settling into a mask of confusion like the perfect actor he is. “
⊰ Cade ⊱The steady hum of the car’s engine fills the silence as I wait outside the airport. My eyes flick between the arrival board and the rearview mirror, where I can see Naomi peacefully sleeping in her car seat. Her little chest rises and falls with each breath, her dark lashes fluttering against her cheeks. The sight of her never fails to soften something in me, a reminder of what really matters in this world.My phone buzzes, drawing my attention away from her. James’ name flashes on the screen. I answer, keeping my voice low to avoid waking Naomi.“What’s up, James?”“Hey, Cade. Got an update on the board situation.” There’s a pause, and I can almost see him running a hand through his black hair, a nervous tick he’s had since college. “But there’s something else you need to know.”I straighten in my seat, tension creeping into my shoulders. “Go on.”“The Feds have been sniffing around your father’s affairs.”The Feds? What the hell did he do now?My grip tightens on the steeri
The Florida heat hits me like a wall as I step out of the air-conditioned taxi. I squint against the bright sunlight, taking in the sight of Aunt Irene’s house. It’s been a year since I’ve been here, but little seems to have changed. The palm trees sway gently in the breeze, their fronds casting dancing shadows on the well-manicured lawn.I stand there for a moment, memories washing over me. This house became my home when I was ten, a scared and grieving orphan thrust into a new life. Aunt Irene took me in, raised me as her own alongside my younger cousin Maisie. I wish I could say I have nothing but pleasant memories of it all, but as I walk toward the front door, my steps only seem to get heavier, anxiety gnawing at my insides.Breathe. It’ll be fine.Before I can reach for the doorbell, I hear movement inside. My heart races. I haven’t told Aunt Irene I was coming—partly because I was afraid she’d tell me not to, and partly because I knew I needed to see her face when I asked about