NancyBruce was there, in the basement, tied to that old chair that I dragged to the darkest corner. The dim light illuminated his dirty, scarred face, but it didn't soften the panicked look he gave me every time I opened the door. I used to be afraid of that look, but not anymore. Now, I was the one in control.For years, I was the perfect wife. The silent woman he manipulated as he pleased as he built his empire of lies and destruction. I knew everything—every dirty secret, every wicked scheme, but I kept quiet. Keep quiet, because I had a plan. There was no point in facing him while he was still strong, while everyone around us still believed his lies. I waited for the right moment. And that moment had finally arrived. Bruce, the man who once commanded everything with a simple snap of his fingers, now stood there, helpless, tied to my mercy, begging for his life.He watched me silently as I walked towards him. My footsteps echoed across the concrete floor, creating slow, somber mus
HaraldI'm standing in front of the mirror, trying to straighten my tie, but my fingers are shaking. No matter how much I try to stay calm, anxiety grows inside me. Today, I will testify in court. I was summoned not as a simple citizen but as Harald Morton, son of Charles Morton and brother of Bruce Morton, two figures who, to me, represent everything that is wrong with the world.I look at my reflection and try to convince myself that I'm prepared, but the truth is that I've never been so lost. Likewise, I, the renegade son, the one who was expelled and ignored by his own family, am now the only visible face of the Mortons. My father is dead, my brother is gone, and here I am, the last Morton, as if their curse has fallen upon me. I feel as if the weight of all this family's crimes and shame is about to crush my shoulders."You don't have to do this," I murmur, not looking away from the mirror, as if I'm trying to convince myself.I hear footsteps behind me, and before I can prepare
HaraldSitting in the section reserved for the defendant, my sweaty hands rested on my knees. The courtroom was packed, and the air was thick with murmurs and looks of contempt. I couldn't lift my head to look at anyone; shame weighed on me like an unbreakable chain. The judge began reading the crimes my family was being tried for, and with each word uttered, the burden grew. My name was tied to all of this, even though I had never had a direct hand in the business. But as Charles Morton's son and Bruce's brother, my presence was inevitable. I was a Morton, and now I was paying for it.As the judge described the evidence, I saw the grim faces of those who had been victims of our family. There were many stories of lives destroyed by the greed and power the Mortons had accumulated over the years. As I tried to distance myself from this weight, I felt myself sinking more and more into the mud they created. Each statement was a blow, each report was an open wound that burned inside.I kne
HaraldJake Gardner told his story with an intensity that set the surrounding air on fire. I had already known, in part, what he was going to say, but hearing it from his own mouth was much more brutal than I could have imagined. He started with the name that made me cringe in my seat: Henry Gardner. Jake's father. A man who, twenty years ago, had tried to do what no one else had the courage to do—challenge the Mortons"My father," Jake began, his voice firm but filled with deep pain, "was a partner at Morton Enterprise for a short time. He had believed he was part of something big, a company that brought progress. But everything changed when he realized the dirt behind the transactions. He discovered... things. Corruption, fraud, and extortion.The mention of his father's name brought a suffocating weight to the room. The words weighed heavily on me. I had heard of this story before—fragments scattered over the years, whispers of rumors that my family had always tried to stifle. But
JakeI was consoling my mother after the judge's hearing on that very important day in our lives when the Mortons' son appeared, asking to speak to us. There was a tense moment when he approached me and my mother. I could feel that my mother was tense from the involuntary grip of her hand that was holding my arm.“I would really like to speak to you,” Harald Morton asked again. On his face, there was a black shadow, as if he was overwhelmed.“What would you have to say?” I questioned him, as if I wasn't interested in hearing what he wanted to say. I wasn't actually interested. Likewise, I mean, what would a member of that hateful family have to say to me and my mother? He would certainly be there to try to calm our spirits by offering money, just as they always did with their victims.The man in front of me shifted his weight from one leg to the other in a somewhat disconcerting way, as if he were having to bear a lot inside him. “That’s all this is about, Mr. Gardner,” he began in a
HaraldI had gone into the bathroom, alone, and looked at myself in the mirror. My face looked different, more tired, as if the weight of all the recent events had finally begun to be reflected physically on me. The encounter with Jake Gardner and his mother still remained fresh in my mind. It had been a tense, difficult conversation, filled with hurt, guilt and, somehow, a thread of hope that I still couldn't quite identify. What I had done—that attempt to apologize, was the least I could do, but it didn't erase everything my family had caused over the decades. Still, as strange as it seemed, a small relief was beginning to wash over me. Maybe, finally, my family's victims were starting to receive some form of justice.I sighed as I washed my hands, letting the water run for longer than necessary, as if that could purify something beyond the physical. I wanted to wash away all the guilt and all the dirt that the Morton name carried, but I knew that wasn't possible. Likewise, I spent
NancySitting in the basement next to Bruce, heavy silence filled the air, except for the sound of popcorn popping in the bowl next to me. I had prepared it as an ironic gesture, an almost theatrical touch to watch Bruce's downfall. He, who so loved being in control, was now tied up, powerless, and reduced to insignificance. The man I knew who for so many years imposed his power on everyone around him, was now nothing more than a shadow of what he once was. Even so, his tongue remained sharp."You're stupid, Nancy," he began, his tone full of contempt despite his miserable situation. His hands were trapped, and he could barely move, but his arrogance was still intact. "You and your boyfriend just destroyed our children's future. With the fall of the Morton empire, the money that supports Amber's luxurious life will run out, and now our daughter will have to work and live in poverty, like a damn normal person. Is that what you want? Our boy Peter is going to spend his entire life worki
NancyWhen Jake finally arrived, the sun had already set, painting the sky with orange and gold tones. I had stood at the window, watching the mansion's courtyard, feeling the weight of waiting. My heart was heavy, anxious to see him, but also uneasy about everything we had faced in the last few days. As soon as I saw his car cross the gate, I felt an immediate relief, as if his presence was capable of dispelling all the fear and anguish that hung over me.I didn't wait for him to get out of the car. I ran out of the house and as soon as he left, I threw myself into his arms. Furthermore, I hugged him tightly, feeling the warmth and security of his body. For a moment, all the pain I carried dissipated. He wrapped me in his arms, firm, as if he wanted to protect me from everything, and I knew in that instant that I was in the right place."I'm sorry I was late," he whispered, his voice muffled against my hair as he stroked me. "I spent time with my mom. I needed to be with her after ev