Carol taps out a message on her phone, her fingers gliding over the screen as she searches for the right words to ask for a text instead of a call. But the message won’t send, and a strange chill runs through her. She glances around. The café, Chat & Bake, is oddly empty. Usually, it’s buzzing with life at this hour. She comes here every week, drawn by the best hot chocolate and apple pie in town. But today, there’s no one—no waitress, no manager. The absence feels unsettling. The familiar scent of fresh bread and coffee lingers in the air, but without the usual hum of people, it feels strangely hollow. She has watched a lot of horror movies. Although the sound didn't reach her, or the eerie music as background, but she knows how to feel about the oddly empty café with nobody out of nowhere- There are lots of crime documentaries. She doesn't want to entertain herself with this - No, thank you. Stepping outside, Carol tries to shake off the unease. The strange calls she’s been g
" Damien! Is this okay with provoking your parents? Also, are you sure about Miss Carol? If she learns the truth behind your sudden appearance and asks for marrying you - This is too much!" James strides in, approaching Damien, who is sitting in his wheelchair and typing something. He knows everything about Damien, including how his family treats him. But involving someone who has no connection with his messy life seems to be an unfair action that James can't help but despise. However, Damien isn't an average Man to deal with either. With 160 IQ and with that mask of coldness, nobody can read what's going on in his mind. His steps are unpredictable, and so was his marriage to Carol. Since he was a kindergarten student and bench mate of Damien, he knows him well. After hearing James's words, he pulls himself away from the window and looks at James with his usual hard to understand expression. He is an I-don't-give-a-fuck-on-your-opinion kinda guy. He always has his own worl
Carol feels much better as soon as she has been left alone. She doesn't know where she is. But one thing is positive that she is inside a house. The room temperature and the scent of burning charcoal gives her the thought of -- Lake house. Someone is throwing a BBQ party while kidnapping her here, she finds it quite amusing. While sitting on the couch, feeling the coldness of the wooden floor with her bare legs , waiting for anyone to open the blindfold and the tie around her wrists. Soon after she can feel the floor is vibrating. She tries to understand the vibration of someone's footsteps. Since most of the time she needs to feel the vibration just to ensure she gets the phone call immediately, she can feel the footsteps approaching her. One is way heavier than the other. Seemingly two people are coming towards her and one of them is a female. She takes a deep breath, unable to see or hear, the sense of her is working fully. The footsteps stop and the wind of someone stopping
It's been years since she last came here - almost 19 years. Each and every single day, she tried to forget about this place. But instead of forgetting the memories, she forgot about the roads. Now she is stuck in the dense forest. She has checked every single way to out of this curse place. Frustratedly, she almost punches the steering wheel. All she remembers is that there is a sign of the entrance when the car takes turn into the woods. This place is out of network as well. That's why her mother was so confident about her death 19 years ago. Nobody would know how she died. But she didn't die that day - fortunately? Carol pulls over, trying to get signals. For two seconds, it might have helped her. But as expected, there is no connection here. She hates this kind of place. Serial killers have their perfect place to hide their crimes easily. While Carol is trying to get a signal, her eyes widen when she notices a truck stopping ahead of her and signals to follow it. Her eye
Boss. Her location, along with someone else’s, popped up at the same place an hour ago." Damien’s head snaps up. His piercing eyes lock onto James, who sits at his desk, fidgeting as he navigates through a map on his screen. "Someone else?" Damien's voice tightens with irritation. James swallows nervously, shifting in his seat. "It’s...Troy. Her ex." It is like a slap on his face when James mentions Troy's Name. Is she with him? Did she betray him? Did she think of getting together to the Man who hurt her? The mention of Troy hits Damien like a punch to the gut. For a moment, his jaw clenches. His eyes narrow, and his lips curl into a thin, hard line. Is she with him? Did she betray me? The thoughts race through his mind, relentless and sharp. Did she really go back to the man who hurt her? Damien’s thick brows draw together, tension rippling across his features. But he smooths out the storm gathering in his expression, keeping his composure. According to the rules, no be
The Crawley family is the number one family with overwhelming authority and wealth. Everything about them has to be perfect and flawless. From the bathroom floor to the terrace, from the garden to swan lake, Mrs Crawley personally instructs everything to become a perfect image. However, 25 years ago, when she was busy with her own son growing up, she found herself standing before her husband playing families with another woman who used to work for her. It was devastating. It was cruel to her to watch her Man being with another woman. But she wouldn't give up on the family that she built alongside her husband. Mr Crawley who fell in love with another woman knew better that without his wife, he was nothing. So, instead of asking for divorce, he led the other woman to be crazy and brought the newborn child - Naming him Damien Crawley, the first son of the Crawley couple. Nobody knew that he was his father's illegitimate son and Mrs Crawley who announced the birth of her baby son
The small town is surrounded by the dense forest. Even from the rooftop of the house, the fog can be seen that has covered the entire forest like some horror movie scene. Carol grabs her phone that she has been charging in Rima's room. Rima Victoria lives in a small cottage, inherited from her parents who died a few years ago in an accident. After sharing conversations, Carol learns that the town has been keeping themselves hidden from the rest of the country. Daily necessities and other things that aren't available here in this town have been delivered by the truck drivers. It gave Carol the idea of steaming off. She needs to escape from her harsh reality. " Is someone coming to pick you up?" Rima sends a message to Carol who is standing with her phone, plugged in. She looks at Rima who is messaging her with a smile. She doesn't know sign language but is dealing with her through messages. " Yes!" She sends the reply, " My friend is coming to pick me up!" Rima's expr
The night air is crisp and electric as Carol speeds ahead, her bike gliding through sharp turns like an extension of herself. The city lights blur into streaks of neon, the hum of engines roaring through the streets. Eunice rides beside her, but it’s Carol’s movements that keep pulling Damien’s attention. Every motion—every lean, every shift—seems effortless. From behind, in the scar, Damien watches, transfixed. Carol’s ability is nothing short of breathtaking. She rides with precision and grace, as if she’s dancing with the road itself. It’s not just skill—it’s artistry, her world. Damien leans forward slightly in his seat, murmuring himself, "Excellence is not a skill, it is an attitude." The words, originally from Ralph Marston, feel fitting. Carol doesn’t just know how to ride—she owns the road, as if it bends to her will. She approaches a hairpin curve—one that would make most riders slow down—but Carol does the opposite. She leans low, her bike tilting dangerously close t
2:30 a.m. Damien pulls into the hospital parking lot, his knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel. His chest feels tight, his breaths short and uneven. Sweat trickles down his pale skin, soaking the collar of his shirt. Exhaustion clings to him like a second skin, but the anxiety coursing through his veins is far more potent. He throws his suit jacket over his arm and bolts out of the car, not bothering to lock it. The hospital looms ahead, its bright lights a sharp contrast to the suffocating darkness of his thoughts. His phone buzzes in his pocket—a message from James with Carol’s room number. He doesn’t waste a second, heading straight for the inpatient ward. His heart pounds louder with every heavy footfall. Taking the stairs two at a time, his breath comes in ragged gasps. His mind races, replaying the call from the hospital over and over. "Mr. Crawley, your wife collapsed, and we need you here immediately." The words were enough to rip the ground from beneath him
James steps into the room, his eyes immediately drawn to the fragile figure of Carol. She’s hunched over in a chair, her hair disheveled and her face pale, clutching Aria so tightly it seems as though she fears the world might rip her daughter away. Two nurses hover nearby, their faces etched with concern, while the doctor stands to the side, flipping through a folder of reports. The air in the room is thick, tense, and suffocating. “What’s going on?” James demands, his tone firm yet tinged with worry. His eyes dart between Carol and the doctor. “Damien is on his way back. He told me to check on you two.” Carol doesn’t respond. Her body trembles visibly, silent tears streaming down her face. She clutches Aria even tighter, her lips trembling as she stares into the distance. James crouches in front of her, lowering his voice as he tries to get through to her. “Carol, please,” he says, his tone softer now. “What’s wrong? Talk to me.” But Carol remains silent, her anguish spilling ou
Carol just says goodbye to Damien before leaving Aria with Alex and the female nanny who takes care of her. She already feels low without him. The day passes with work; nothing major happens. Since there’s a time difference between her and Eunice, they don’t talk much. But her other friends reach out to her as usual. After dealing with numerous clients, workers, and other activities, she feels far more exhausted than usual. Damien's presence has always been like a 24/7 therapist, and his absence makes everything feel heavier, even for just one day. Later, after returning home, feeding Aria, and spending time on self-care, Carol calls Damien. Their conversation is sweet and comforting. As days pass, Carol notices something unusual. The new nanny, Heather, seems fine, but Carol starts feeling weaker than usual. Aria, who usually loves sleeping and rarely cries, begins crying at night. Confused and worried, Carol consults a doctor, but they find nothing physically wrong with Aria
Somewhere in a casino, Harris is sitting on the counter whilst he's staring at the debt receipt. " Harris! The only way you can pay all the debt and keep gambling if you can get your parents' property. Don't you think it's high time to take action!" The owner of the casino when Harris has been staying for a while, suggests. He is doing the job of a bartender while watching Harris being drowned in an ocean of debts. Harris, staring at the debt he has, looks at him with a frown, " That bastard has owned everything. I can't even return home because of my criminal records!" Anger crawls under his skin as his face reddens with fury." Well, there are lots of ways to get what you want. If you want help, we can help, you know!" He smirks, " With violence, everything is possible!" Harris's expression brightens. Clutching the receipt of his latest loss in gambling, he leans into the chair, " That's a good idea, I think! I am the rightful owner of those money. So I will get them back!" The
Carol leans against the doorframe, her tired eyes fixed on Eunice, who sits on the floor, rolling a toy car back and forth with Aria. The toddler’s laughter rings out, bright and carefree, clashing with the heaviness in the room. “You’re leaving?” Carol’s voice is soft, but the weight of her words fills the space. Eunice’s hand falters on the toy car for just a moment before she pushes it toward Aria again, forcing a smile. “Yeah. It’s a good promotion, Carol. And... I’ve always wanted to see the world outside.” Her smile wavers, not quite reaching her eyes. Carol steps further into the room, crossing her arms as she searches for the right words. “But... I’m not saying it’s the wrong decision, just... are you sure you don’t want to give it another try? Maybe James has been struggling with something—”“Don’t.” Eunice’s voice is calm but firm, slicing through Carol’s sentence. She turns away from Aria, who is engrossed in her toy, and looks at her friend. “Don’t go there, Carol. Not
As if the wind is knocked out of his chest, James Alexander sits frozen, watching Eunice cry in despair. Her tears streak down her face, her voice trembling with frustration. "This is it, James," she begins, her tone laced with exhaustion. "I’ve been trying to hold onto this relationship, but I’m the only one fighting for it. Do you even realize what that feels like?" James looks at her, his brow furrowing. "Eunice, I know I’ve messed up. I’m sorry, okay? I’ll do better." "You’re sorry?" She laughs bitterly, shaking her head. "You always say that, but nothing changes. I’m the one who calls you, the one who begs to meet, the one who says ‘I love you.’ What have you done, James? What effort have you made?" James opens his mouth but quickly closes it. He doesn’t have an answer. Eunice continues, her voice breaking. "I’ve never felt this tired in a relationship before. A few months, James, and I’m completely drained. This isn’t love. It’s one-sided torture." He leans forward,
The culprit was caught soon. In the meantime, the closeness had turned into a strong friendship. Right now, it's Damien's 27th birthday party. Everyone is enjoying themselves. A few clients have attended the party, unaware that the Crawley family has grown close to the Martinez family. While everyone enjoys the evening, Carol is chatting with her friends, telling them about a new friend she made, when the door swings open, pushed by two security guards. "Carol!" Millie practically runs toward her, ignoring everyone in the room. She hugs Carol tightly and gives her a few kisses on the face. "I missed you." Eunice looks upset but curious about this woman. Like Carol, Millie avoids social media and reporters, so people don’t know who Mrs. Martinez is. "Who is that?" Katie asks. "Must be the new friend she’s been talking about all morning!" Sarah chuckles. Carol takes a deep breath and looks at her friends. "She’s my daughter-in-law!" Her friends stare at her in stunned
Who knew one incident could change so much in life? For Damien Crawley, that moment arrives as he leans against the doorframe, watching his wife, Carol, chatting away on FaceTime with none other than Millie Martinez. Millie, wife of Paul Martinez—Damien’s business rival—speaks animatedly, her laughter filling the room. Carol protected their son, Julian, five days ago, and since then, both of them have been talking about everything in their lives. While Martinez is still trying to get on his nerves, here his wife is having such a sweet friendship with the rival's wife. Damien isn’t particularly annoyed but can’t help wondering why Carol is friends with her. He crosses his arms and clears his throat, but Carol barely glances at him before turning back to her phone. “It’ll be close-knit,” Carol says, her tone cheerful as she discusses Damien’s upcoming birthday party. “Your family, my friends, and a few of Damien’s friends. It’s small, so don’t worry about bringing too many peopl
Damien sprints into the hospital lobby, his heart pounding harder than it had during his last board meeting. His tie is loose, and he’s slightly out of breath. He scans the room like a hawk, his sharp gaze landing on Carol seated in a corner with a blonde-haired toddler in her arms. “Carol!” His voice echoes, startling a nurse nearby. He strides over, his face etched with worry. " Are you okay? What happened? Where is Aria?" Carol looks up, startled, and immediately begins signing with her hands: **Calm down, everything is okay.**Damien freezes, confusion replacing his panic. “Why are you signing? You’re not even anxious enough to forget how to speak!” He narrows his eyes at her, crossing his arms. “What did you do this time?” Caught, Carol stops mid-sign and bites her lip, her cheeks turning pink. “Fine,” she mutters aloud, glancing at the boy in her lap. “It’s not exactly what you think. I saved a kid.” Damien blinks, leaning forward. “A kid?” His voice rises an octave. “Wha