★★★★★Haedon’s voice thundered over the chaos, sharp and demanding, "Who the hell gave the order to fire on Damon Colley?" The response came in a hurried, panicked rush, the fear palpable in the man’s voice. "Boss, it wasn’t us! None of our men raised their guns. There’s another group on the ship—we’ve been infiltrated!"Haedon’s face twisted in fury as the reality of the situation sank in. What had begun as a meticulously crafted plan was unraveling at the seams, disintegrating into a bloody, uncontrolled mess. Meanwhile, Damon himself was far from unscathed. A jagged, rusted rod had sliced through his arm, leaving a deep, bleeding gash. The pain was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the seething rage that burned within him. Ignoring the blood that soaked through his sleeve, he took down the attackers one by one, his aim steady, his resolve unbreakable.With one hand clutching his wounded arm, Damon pulled out his phone and dialed Phil, who was still in the chopper circling ove
★★★★ Haedon’s lips curled into a wicked grin, his voice laced with venom as he taunted, "She’s in hell, Damon. Suffering in ways you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. And you know the best part? It’s all because of you." His words dripped with satisfaction, each one designed to twist the knife already lodged deep in Damon’s psyche. As he massaged his neck, wincing from the earlier impact, his laughter filled the air—cold, mocking, a sound that grated against Damon’s nerves. Damon’s vision blurred with a red haze of fury, his restraint snapping like a brittle thread. With a primal roar, he lunged at Haedon, every ounce of his strength channeled into the attack. But Haedon, anticipating the move, sidestepped with a swift and practiced motion. In one fluid movement, he pulled a knife from his sleeve and drove it deep into Damon’s side. The blade cut through flesh with a sickening sound, and Damon’s breath hitched as searing pain radiated from the wound. He staggered, his body betrayi
★★★★★Cindy's voice rang out, a sharp contrast to the chaos that surrounded them. "I warned you not to touch him!" she shouted, her tone laced with fury and betrayal. Her eyes, bloodshot with rage, bore into Haedon as she finally let go of any pretence. "You should have listened to me, Haedon. All I asked was for you to kill Jasmine!"Haedon, clutching his wound, spat back, "Fuck your plan, Cindy. I want Damon Colley dead!" His words were dripping with venom, his desperation to finish what he started overshadowing any lingering loyalty. Damon, struggling to remain upright, cast a glance toward the gun that had slipped from Haedon’s grasp. His body ached with every movement, his strength waning, but his resolve was unbroken. He knew he had to act quickly, but his legs felt like lead, each step agonizingly slow.As Haedon’s gaze shifted to the roof, a flicker of recognition crossed his features. There, hidden in the shadows, was a sniper, his rifle aimed directly at Damon. The crack of
★★★★★ Forty-eight hours after the operation, Damon slowly regained consciousness. The sterile scent of the hospital filled his nostrils as his eyes fluttered open. He stared at the ceiling, disoriented, his mind foggy. The room felt unfamiliar, and the quiet hum of machines by his bedside only deepened his confusion. Tubes and IV lines were attached to his hands, but it took him a moment to piece together the fragmented memories of what had happened. Jasmine. The ship. Haedon. Suddenly, everything came rushing back—the fight, the blood, Jasmine’s disappearance. Panic surged through him like a jolt of electricity. He ripped the needles from his arms with a growl of determination, flinging the tubes aside. The pain was intense, but he didn’t care. He had to get out of there, had to find Jasmine. Stumbling off the bed, Damon’s legs buckled under his weight, but he forced himself to stand. He’d barely taken a step when the door burst open, and a nurse, wide-eyed with alarm, rushed in.
★★★★★"Where is she, Harley? Don’t play games with me," Damon’s voice was a growl, low and fierce, his knuckles white as they gripped the edge of the bed. The fury in his eyes was unmistakable, a storm waiting to unleash. "I know it was you who took her before showing up in front of me. I swear, Harley, I will burn everything you hold dear. Now that I’m awake, nothing will stop me from finding her."Harley stood across from him, his posture relaxed, almost casual in the face of Damon’s fury. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing with a hint of amusement as he responded, "I won't deny the direction your mind is going, Damon, but you're wrong. I wasn’t the one who took her, though I admit the thought did cross my mind before I boarded that ship."Damon’s grip tightened, his nails digging into the bed’s frame, but Harley’s calm demeanor only deepened his anger."I can't believe you let her slip through your fingers," Harley continued, his voice laced with a mocking tone that g
★★★★★ Three weeks later; "Madeline, how are you feeling now?" Paul asked gently as he stepped into the room, a warm smile on his face. He watched as she slowly woke up, a faint smile curving her lips despite the fatigue that still lingered. "I’m feeling a bit better," she replied, though her voice was soft and tentative. "But… do I really have to keep taking that medicine? It’s so bitter, and it makes me feel worse afterward." Paul’s expression softened, his concern evident as he took her hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly. "I know it’s not pleasant," he said, his voice steady but kind, "but you had a really bad accident, Madeline. The doctors were clear—you need to keep taking the medication to recover. I care about you too much to let you skip it." Madeline looked down, frowning slightly as she processed his words. She touched the small bruises on her face, her fingers tracing over them absentmindedly. "But… why can’t I remember anything? Why does the name ‘Madeline’ feel s
★★★★★Paul’s grip tightened around the doctor’s collar as soon as he approached him who was sitting leisurely in the garden. Paul’s eyes blazing with barely contained fury. "What kind of bullshit medicines have you been giving her?" he growled.The doctor’s composure wavered, a slight tremor in his hands as he tried to steady himself against Paul’s unrelenting wrath. "Why, sir? What’s happened?" the doctor stammered, his voice small and hesitant, overshadowed by the palpable anger radiating from Paul."Three f***ing weeks!" Paul spat out, his voice escalating into a roar that echoed through the hallway. "It’s been three goddamn weeks, and she’s still not where I expected her to be. How the hell is she still holding on to these fragments of herself? How is she still questioning, still searching for that missing piece?"The doctor swallowed hard, the weight of Paul’s accusations pressing down on him like a physical force. He took a cautious breath before responding, his words measured,
★★★★★ "He’s always busy!" Jasmine sighed, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and longing. She glanced around the room that had become her gilded cage, the four walls she knew too well, the garden outside that she’d only glimpsed through the window. "I was thinking," she continued, trying to sound casual, "maybe we could go out together, explore the town a bit? I’m feeling a little restless being cooped up here all the time." The caretaker gave her a sympathetic smile, but it was tinged with something else, something more guarded. "Madam, I understand your frustration," she said gently, "but your health is the top priority. Sir is very concerned, especially after all the injuries you’ve suffered. Staying here isn’t a restriction—it’s for your well-being. How about I take you back to your room? A little rest might help, just like it usually does when you’re feeling this way." Jasmine forced a smile, masking her disappointment. "No, thank you. I’ll go on my own," she repl