Alessandra’s POVBrandon and I were still in the hospital when we saw the news. In fact, I don’t even know how to describe how I feel when I see it. There is no doubt that the news is, in fact, a sudden blow to everyone. Brandon, on the other hand, is even more shocked. “Who on earth murdered Tyler, and why?” he exclaims as we continue watching the news.The newscaster and the reporter at the murder scene have done their best to give us detailed coverage, but the news is incomplete without knowing who the murderer is. But, of course, that’s prison life. We all know that any murder that takes place there rarely makes it to the news. And the ones that do are usually because the person is either famous or a known terrorist before imprisonment, like Tyler, who was involved in a controversial topic with me before he went to prison.The same level of shock on Brandon’s face isn’t on mine, though. I mean, it’s not that difficult to figure out who killed Tyler. Just think about it—Tyler is th
Diana’s POVI am sitting in front of the TV while Olivia and Emily help me with my manicure. It doesn’t matter if our place looks nice, shabby, or even tattered; having peace of mind and being content is the medicine that keeps us going.This, of course, is something I am forced to learn after the incident with my son, Tyler, who threw us out of the home we used to live in with him.Well, that’s gone. I cannot hold grudges against my son, especially when we all see how life is dealing with him mercilessly these days.Maybe it is even karma. We did Alessandra a lot of harm, and though we pleaded for forgiveness, it didn’t stop Tyler from ending up in prison. And for us, it didn’t stop us from getting even poorer.Today, I am seated in front of the TV while Emily and Olivia help with my manicure. In my hand is a warm cup of tea in a plastic cup with a broken handle.Sitting in front of the TV, I’m only half-watching a movie when I suddenly feel the urge to change the channel.I can’t exp
Sandra’s POVSeeing the news spread like wildfire across the city, state, and country makes me realize just how popular Tyler was. I wasn’t expecting such loud, relentless coverage about his murder, and it makes me scared, thinking I might be exposed so soon.But then I hear what the prison officer says in the interview, and a wave of relief washes over me. My muscles, tense and coiled like a spring, finally start to unwind. I know my secret is safe with him. The thought brings a twisted sense of satisfaction—a dark comfort in knowing that the jailer, even while being asked questions, will keep my secret sealed away.What did I whisper to the jailer that made him so corporate, so eager, that he handed me the gun to take down Tyler? It’s all so clear, he was desperate, and I knew exactly which strings to pull to get what I wanted.People will do unbelievable things for money, and those things often involve compromising everything they once stood for. I’ve seen it time and time again—th
Diana’s POVEverything we need to do is take away what Alessandra loves most, make her feel the way we feel, and when she’s at her lowest, that’s the perfect time to strike. To this end, the research isn’t deep on what we need to do to take down Brandon before Alessandra takes the real fall. All we have to do is use what has already toppled so many others’ favorites and announce that Brandon is guilty of it too, then let the people cancel him. Scoff.“You’re getting confused. Don’t be. I’ll explain thoroughly. Now, let’s go back to history,” I say to my daughter at this moment, my voice calm but laced with the cold determination that drives me. And by doing so, they both wipe their faces and grab a seat to listen to me. Thus, I begin to narrate.Far back in history, there was this popular dancer named Micah Johnson. He dances so well on stage that people faint whenever he performs. He is regarded as the king of dance, and soon enough, he begins to sing. Everyone can’t help but see th
Diana’s POVWhile Emily is gone to bring Jeruel to me, Olivia and I continue to sit by the TV, the air thick with anticipation. My fingers drum against the armrest, a sign of the impatience brewing inside me. The low hum of the TV fills the room until, suddenly, Brandon’s face appears on the screen, his smile carefree and untroubled. A surge of anger flares within me as I watch him so casually seated in front of the reporters.Increasing the volume of the TV, my hand trembles slightly as we hear him speak, loud and clear.“Mr. Brandon Biden, would you say surviving the gunshot at your wedding with Matriarch Alessandra was luck, or did you skillfully avoid the bullet so it didn’t hit your heart?” The interviewer’s voice cuts through the room, her tone probing, almost eager for his response.“C’mon,” we hear him laugh before he speaks. “I’m not someone with self-defense skills. I’m not a martial arts expert either, so how could I have dodged a bullet? All I did was try to save Alessand
Brandon's POVThe stakeholder’s meeting is an event that occurs only once a year. It is crucial for every business entity to move forward, as the stakeholders must convene to discuss the way ahead for their companies. It’s a time when decisions that will shape the future of the organization are made, and no stone is left unturned. This is why, twelve hours after the interview session with NTN television, I find myself meticulously dressed in a sharp, dark Italian suit and tie, heading straight to the meeting. My heart races a bit, not because I’m unprepared, but because every stakeholder meeting is a battlefield where ideas clash, egos are tested, and only the best strategies survive. I’ve attended many of these, yet the tension never fades.Similarly, Alessandra, with her usual grace and poise, has gone to her company to handle their stakeholder meeting as well. She’s as dedicated to her business as I am to mine. It’s one of the things I admire most about her—her relentless drive and
Jeruel's POVScoff.A child like me—how could you wonder how I located Brandon? Lol. There's no one I want to find that I can't locate easily. The task is clear: find Brandon, get close to him, have someone take a snap of us, then frame him.But no, I couldn’t be so easy on him by just starting to talk to him like that. He’d soon notice something was off, and hence, I have to be tough, like any kid on the street would be on a normal day.And who says that since we're going to frame him, he can’t satisfy my stomach at this moment? I’m genuinely hungry, and I can just use our target to get what I want before we achieve what we want, if you understand.The moment he starts walking away, my pulse quickens. What if he gets away? What if I lose him? But then he hesitates. Relief floods through me. I know he feels like he’s coming down too hard on me, perhaps thinking he needs to leave. But no, he is prey, and we’ve caught him. Letting him go—Diana wouldn’t like that, and our mission would f
Diana’s POVThe door creaks open, and Jeruel steps back into the dimly lit room after being gone for what feels like an eternity. She’s been out for hours, searching for that person who can help us with this very delicate task. As she enters, a shadow falls across the threshold, followed by a familiar face.It's him—a young boy who’s a constant presence on the streets. I’ve seen him countless times, curled up in a grimy corner, scavenging through dumpsters for scraps, just trying to survive. He’s thin, with hollow cheeks and eyes that have seen far too much for someone so young.“Aren’t you Harry?” I ask, my voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. I need to be sure. I need to confirm what I already suspect. The boy looks up at me, his eyes wide but steady, and nods.