It’s 4 a.m., and the mansion is suffocating under the weight of tension. For the past two hours, Damien spirals further into desperation. He has reviewed the CCTV footage hundreds of times, stared at his phone, willing it to ring, and interrogated every single staff member under his roof. His once-controlled demeanor is gone, replaced by bloodshot eyes and trembling hands clenched around his phone. The room feels oppressive, charged with his frustration and fear. James walks in quietly, his expression tense as he takes in the sight of Damien, sitting hunched on the sofa. The phone is practically fused to his hand, his knuckles pale from gripping it too tightly. “Damien,” James starts, careful to keep his voice steady, “I’ve investigated everyone. Even the hidden backup cameras didn’t catch anything suspicious.” Damien doesn’t look up. His voice comes low, gravelly. “Where is that nanny?” James hesitates, his jaw tightening. “Carol gave her a paid vacation. She left yesterday
Carol cradles Aria closer, her daughter's tiny body trembling against her chest. The heat radiating from Aria's fevered skin sears through Carol's nerves, each shallow breath the child takes a painful reminder of how dire the situation is. She bites her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, her tear-streaked face a canvas of fear and desperation. Since Harris had left hours ago with a casual remark about being in the bar, she'd been trapped in this dim, suffocating room. Her frantic attempts to escape—testing the window, banging on the locked door—have yielded nothing but bruised hands and growing panic. "What should I do?" she whispers to herself, pacing the room with Aria in her arms. Her voice cracks, betraying the thin thread of control she clings to. "Damien… I know you're trying, but if this goes on any longer—Aria…"Her chest tightens as Aria lets out a feeble whimper, the sound so small, yet it cuts through Carol like a blade. She has to decide: give Aria the formula they’d
Damien’s car roars down the city streets, weaving through traffic with a sense of urgency that matches the storm brewing in his chest. His heart races, a pounding rhythm that drowns out the hum of the engine. The location James sent—an unassuming bar tucked away on a dimly lit corner—has his gut twisting. He slows only slightly as he nears the bar, his sharp eyes scanning the parking lot for any sign of Carol or the men who took her. Nothing. The frustration gnaws at him, a vicious beast clawing its way through his mind. His knuckles ache from gripping the steering wheel too tightly. "Where are you?" he mutters under his breath, his voice low and strained. The streets blur past him, neon signs flickering in the early morning. His phone buzzes again, the screen lighting up with James’s name. Damien swipes it up, his voice cutting through the line. “Did you find anything else?” “No,” James replies, his tone taut with regret. “But I’ve got the cops en route. They’ll be there so
BANG!!!!The sharp crack of a gunshot pierces the air, followed by a collective gasp that leaves the world hanging in dreadful silence. Time itself seems to freeze as everyone turns toward the sound, eyes wide with shock and terror. Everyone except Damien. His heart slams against his ribcage, and his breath catches in his throat. “Carol!” he screams, his voice raw and desperate. The sound shatters the stillness, galvanizing the crowd into motion. Cops shout commands, civilians scatter, and chaos erupts around him. But Damien has only one thought: getting to his family. “What did you just do?” the boss bellows at Harris, his voice trembling with rage and fear as he stumbles backward. Harris stands tall, gun still raised, a cold smile curling his lips. There’s no remorse in his eyes, only cruel satisfaction. “What did I do?” he mocks, his voice dark and venomous. “I made a point. This family—his family—owes me everything! And if they won’t give it to me, I’ll take it!” He gestures
Damien sits slumped in a stiff hospital chair, his back aching, his eyes fixed on Carol. She lies unconscious on the bed, her face pale under the dim hospital light. The faint beeping of the monitors fills the quiet room, a cruel reminder of her fragility. His hand tightens instinctively around Aria, who sleeps nestled in his arms, her small body warm and still feverish against his chest.The news of Harris facing a lifelong prison sentence barely registers in Damien’s mind. There is no triumph, no satisfaction. Only exhaustion and the heavy weight of guilt pressing on his chest. His daughter’s fever has subsided, and she sleeps peacefully now, but the image of Carol collapsing haunts him. Her seizure had been violent, her body trembling uncontrollably, and the doctor’s explanation of the drugs in her blood still echoes in his head. “It was a long ride, wasn’t it?” he murmurs, brushing his lips against Aria’s forehead. His voice is soft, heavy with emotion. “Dad is sorry. It must’ve
The cold air of the prison cell wraps around Harris Crawley like a second skin, sharp and unforgiving. He sits on the edge of the narrow cot, staring at the stained, cracked floor. The cement feels like ice beneath his bare feet. His shoulders sag, heavy with exhaustion, yet his eyes remain fixated on nothing, hollow and unmoving. The rattling of keys at his cell door breaks the suffocating silence. A guard’s voice echoes down the corridor, sharp and impatient. “Harris Crawley! You got a visitor!” Harris doesn’t move at first. His head tilts slightly, brows drawing together as if he hasn’t heard right. Then, the weight of the words sinks in. He shifts sluggishly, his joints aching as he pushes himself to stand. The chains around his ankles clink with each slow movement. “Let’s go, Crawley. Don’t keep them waiting,” the guard barks. Harris shuffles toward the cell door. The corners of his mouth twitch, neither a smile nor a frown, but a grimace of unease. His forehead creases
The road stretches endlessly in front of Damien, a shimmering ribbon of asphalt bathed in the golden hues of the setting sun. The soft whistle of wind slipping through the slightly open window carries with it a soothing rhythm, brushing against his skin like a gentle caress. His fingers tighten briefly around the steering wheel, his thoughts drifting toward the hospital. Toward Carol. Toward Aria. His chest tightens, a bittersweet ache that somehow feels both painful and grounding. The hospital parking lot is quiet, the dimming sunlight casting long shadows across the concrete. Damien steps out of the car, his movements purposeful but tinged with hesitation. Each step toward the building feels like a triumph, a declaration that he’s still here, still fighting for the life he thought he’d never deserve. When he pushes the door open, the sight that greets him stops him in his tracks. Carol is sitting on a chair near the window, her head tilted down, a soft cascade of hair framing he
Eunice- "Is everything alright?" Cindy places a coffee on the desk as she sits next to me. Her beautiful ginger-red hair cascades down her waist as she pulls her chair closer. "Yeah. Why?" I hold the cup of coffee. The smell of roasted beans always helps with my migraines. "We've been noticing you seem low. Is everything okay?" I didn’t know I was showing any signs of distress. "Yeah. Must be work stress," I reply, taking a sip. My lips touch the edge of the cup, but my attention drifts to the surface of the coffee. Being away from home, from the people who love me, in a foreign land always feels suffocating. Not to mention the reason I ran away in the first place. It lingers in my mind, rent-free. Never in my life did I think I’d feel so foolish for loving someone. When I tried to rid myself of that love, my heart rebelled against every thought. I always admired his dedication to working hard, but in his pursuit, he forgot someone was waiting—to be called,
With a long-suffering sigh, he nods. “Fine. I promise.” Aria beams, hugging him tightly. “Yay! My Julie forever!” Irene smirks, crossing her arms. “We’ll see about that.” Julian groans, rubbing his temples as Aria and Irene continue their tug-of-war over him. He has had enough. “Can you both just stop?!” He snaps finally, his patience finally breaking and wearing off. Especially to Aria who is clinging onto him like a slime. Silence falls. Aria blinks, her grip on his shirt loosening. “J-Julie…?” Her voice is small, uncertain. Julian exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Irene, you always mess with me and now her, and Aria, you act like a spoiled kid whenever I talk to anyone else!” His voice is firm, frustrated. “I can be friends with other people! You don’t own me, Aria!” His sharp cold eyes shudders Aria who looks confused with Julian's cold and indifferent gaze. The room suddenly feels too quiet. Aria’s fingers tremble as she stares at him,
Julian narrows his eyes before walking towards the door, " What's their name!?" He asks. " Julie! You got friends. What about me?" She follows him hugging her plush. " I don't know her name but she is here to play with you!" Julian walks downstairs while Aria skips the staircases one after one. " Why do you have friends? I don't have friends. I want to be friends with your friend!" She keeps whining while running towards Julian. " Hi! Julian!" A girl wearing a beautiful dress shyly waves her hand. " I am here to play." " Irene! Why are you here?" Julian asks, frowning a bit. " To play -!" Julian barely takes two steps forward before Aria latches onto his arm, her plush carrot squeezed against her chest like a battle shield. Her big, round eyes lock onto the girl standing before them, her lips pursed in a deep frown. Irene blinks, then smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Is this your little sister, Julian?” Aria gasps dramatically, releasing Julian just to s
Two days ago, Julian told her that he hated her for touching his homework. Now she is yet to get over from that shock. Julian barely stirs under the warmth of his blanket, his face half-buried in his pillow. The room is quiet except for the faint rustling of fabric as he tries to sink deeper into sleep. But Aria stands frozen at his bedside, her tiny fists clenched, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "He said he hates me…" Her lips tremble, but not from sadness—from determination. She knows Julian better than anyone. He can say all he wants, but the moment she starts crying, he’ll melt like an ice cream cone in the sun. Taking a deep breath, she clenches her plush carrot and prepares for battle. She sniffs. Loudly. A little whimper escapes her lips, followed by another dramatic sniff. Then, with precise control, her lower lip wobbles as she blinks rapidly, allowing fat, glistening tears to pool in her big eyes. Julian shifts slightly under the blanket. She s
The ending of the vacation is coming soon. Throughout the days with James, everything starts feeling like before. His warmth, his flirtatious tease and sometimes stealing glances, it makes her heart more warm. At some point, I have started worrying about the matter of me transferring to Australia. I haven't told him about it. Not yet. I am not ready for this. The farmhouse is quiet, the night settling over us like a warm, comforting blanket. Outside, the crickets sing softly, their rhythmic melody blending with the faint rustle of leaves in the breeze. The silver light of the moon streams in through the sheer curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. I sit on the edge of the bed, staring down at my hands, unsure of what to do next. My heart feels like it’s carrying too many emotions all at once—excitement, fear, longing, and something I can’t quite name yet. James is sitting on the small armchair by the window, his gaze fixed on me. The weight of his eyes is almost unbearab
The morning air is crisp and cool, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers as I step out onto the porch. The mountains loom in the distance, their peaks kissed by soft streaks of sunlight. For a moment, I let the tranquility wash over me, the weight in my chest easing ever so slightly. “You ready?” James’s voice startles me, and I turn to see him standing behind me, a lopsided grin on his face and a woven basket in his hand. He’s wearing a loose white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and the sunlight makes his hair look almost golden. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I reply, brushing past him toward the dirt path leading to the fields. We’re harvesting watermelons today. Margaret had asked us last night, her kind eyes twinkling with excitement as she explained that the ripe melons were waiting just beyond the river near the base of the mountain. James falls into step beside me, his strides easy and unhurried. “Do you think you’ll manage to carry a watermelon all the w
And, he tagged along...The hum of the plane’s engine fills the quiet space as I glance out the window, watching the horizon shift from fiery orange to muted pinks and purples. The first-class seat feels too large, yet somehow suffocating. I didn’t even want to be here with him. James, sitting beside me, stretches his legs, his presence filling the space like an anchor I can’t seem to escape. He taps his fingers rhythmically on the armrest, his gaze fixed ahead. “How are you feeling?” he asks, his voice soft but insistent, like he’s trying to sound casual. I keep my eyes on the clouds. “Fine.” “You’ve been quiet,” he presses. I let out a sigh. “What do you expect me to say, James? You weren’t supposed to be here.” He shifts in his seat to face me. “And yet here I am.” His voice carries that infuriating confidence that used to make me swoon—but now it only grates. I don’t reply, turning my attention back to the window. James doesn’t let the silence linger. “Eunice, I ju
Eunice, The hum of activity fills the office as I sit at my desk, tapping away at my tablet. My messages with James flicker on the screen, a mixture of casual banter and the occasional helpful advice about a recipe. He’s been staying with me for a while now, and honestly, he’s taken over my small apartment like it’s his. Cooking, cleaning, rearranging things—I can’t decide if it’s annoying or a blessing. How did I let him get so comfortable? “Hm? Bed and breakfast? How lucky!” Lea’s teasing tone pulls me out of my thoughts. I glance up just in time to see her leaning over my shoulder, her mischievous grin wide as she peers at my messages. I immediately turn the screen off, rolling my eyes. “Stop staring at other people’s messages! It’s nothing.” Lea smirks, unbothered by my annoyance, and pulls up a chair beside me. “Not ‘other people.’ My dearest colleague. Who, by the way, is leaving us soon. Got a boyfriend who’s tagging along, hmm?” I shake my head, gripping the tablet t
The sun streams through the large bay window of the living room, painting everything in a soft, golden glow. Aria is perched on the floor, her legs folded under her as she busily colors in her sketchbook. Her curly brown hair bounces every time she hums to herself—a random melody she makes up on the spot. Julian, sitting cross-legged a few feet away, is flipping through a book about dinosaurs, though his focus wavers. Aria’s humming is getting louder. He glances up from his book, arching an eyebrow. “Aria, what are you so happy about?” he finally asks, setting the book down on the coffee table. “You’ll never guess what!” she declares, her brown eyes wide with excitement. Julian raises an eyebrow, setting his book aside. “You found a unicorn in the backyard?” “No!” she giggles, shaking her head. “You finally learned how to fly?” he guesses again, his tone teasing. “Ugh! You are a bully, Julian!” She pouts, crossing her arms in mock annoyance. Julian smirks. “Okay, fine.
Carol sits on the edge of the desk, her hand still loosely gripping Damien's collar. She studies his face—the soft curve of his smirk, the playful glint in his eyes, and the way his hair falls slightly over his forehead. He always has this maddening ability to disarm her with a single look, as if he holds all the cards to a game she doesn’t even realize she’s playing. “Damien,” she begins, her voice softening just a touch. “We’ve talked about this. Another baby is a big commitment.” He leans in closer, his lips brushing against her ear as he murmurs, “You mean the best kind of commitment.” His hands find their way to her waist, gently pulling her closer. “Besides, you already handle everything so perfectly. I know you can handle another little one running around.” Carol groans and leans back slightly to look at him, her brow furrowed. “Perfectly? Have you seen our daughter? She’s practically glued to me 24/7. I can’t even finish a cup of coffee without her demanding something or