Jackson’s phone rang at 4:30 PM, Henry’s name flashing across the screen. His heart leaped into his throat as he answered.“Hello? Henry?”“Mr. Hayes,” Henry’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I’ve found something. Something about Mrs. Blackwood that changes everything. But I can’t tell you over the phone. Can you come to my place?”Jackson was already grabbing his keys. “Of course. Just send me your address.”“I’ll text it to you right away. Please hurry – and make sure you weren’t followed.”The drive to Henry’s apartment complex on the city’s outskirts felt like torture. Every yellow light he caught, every slow-moving car in front of him seemed to conspire against his urgency. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the streets as he pulled into the parking lot of a modest three-story building.He opened his car door and stepped out.Henry’s apartment was on the ground floor, unit 103. Jackson noticed the door was slightly ajar, which sent a chill down his spine.“Henry?”
The interrogation room was cold – deliberately so, Jackson thought. He’d been sitting there for hours, his wrists raw from the handcuffs, while Detective Morrison circled him like a shark that had scented blood in the water. The fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, a constant reminder of the sterile, unforgiving environment he found himself in.“Let’s go through this again,” Morrison said, dropping a manila folder onto the metal table. Crime scene photos spilled out – Henry’s body, the ransacked apartment, Jackson’s own shocked face as they led him away. “You expect us to believe you just happened to show up minutes after he was killed?”Jackson stared at the photos, his stomach churning at the sight of Henry’s lifeless form. The images seemed to mock him, each one a reminder of how quickly everything had spiraled out of control.“I told you,” Jackson’s voice was hoarse. “Henry called me. He said he had information about Serena Blackwood. Check his phone records – they’ll prove it! He
Tony Sterling’s presence filled the interrogation room with an almost palpable shift in power. Unlike Diana Frost’s artificial polish, Sterling carried the weathered confidence of someone who had navigated the darkest corners of Hayes family business for decades. His silver hair and well-worn leather briefcase spoke of experience that couldn’t be bought – only earned.“Detective Morrison,” Sterling’s voice was surprisingly gentle, though his eyes were sharp. “I believe we’re done here. Mr. Hayes will be leaving with me now.”Morrison’s face reddened. “Now wait just a minute—”“I’ve already spoken with Captain Reynolds,” Sterling continued, as if Morrison hadn’t spoken. “The security footage from across the street shows a man in a black suit leaving through the back door at the time of death. Unless you’ve managed to clone my client, he couldn’t have been in two places at once.”Jackson watched the exchange with growing satisfaction. This was the Hayes family power he remembered – not
Alexander Hayes sat in his study, a room that hadn’t changed in thirty years. Dark wood paneling absorbed the lamplight, and leather-bound books lined the walls—not for show, but worn with use.The old grandfather clock in the corner ticked away the seconds as he studied the documents spread across his desk.“The evidence is conclusive,” Sterling said, standing by the window. “The poison they’re using on Damian – it’s experimental. Designed to mimic a natural illness while being virtually untraceable.”Jackson paced the room, unable to contain his restlessness. “How did you get this information?”“One of the research scientists at Blackwood Pharmaceuticals had an attack of conscience,” Sterling explained. “He came to us after Henry’s death made the news.”Alexander’s weathered hands traced the chemical formulas on the page before him. “The same compound was found in Henry’s system during our private autopsy. A much higher dose.”“They silenced him permanently when he got too close to
The antiseptic walls of the Hospital seemed to amplify Elara’s grief, her sobs echoing through the sterile room. Rose watched helplessly as her daughter crumpled under the weight of unimaginable loss, while James stood like a statue by the window, tension radiating from his rigid frame.“Everything was fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “Every single checkup. The baby was healthy.” His voice cracked on the last word.Rose reached for her son. “James, please—”“No, Mother.” He turned, his eyes blazing. “This wasn’t natural. Something happened to her during the delivery. The way the nurses were whispering, how quickly they rushed her into surgery...” He stopped, catching himself as Elara’s crying softened into quiet whimpers.“Water,” Elara whispered, her voice raw. “Please.”As Rose helped her drink, James’s phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number: “Grand Phoenix Hotel. Room 712. Come alone if you want answers about your sister’s baby.”He stared at the message, his hand tighten
Ghost’s smile widened as he raised his weapon, but before he could strike, the hotel room’s window exploded inward in a shower of glass. Jackson Hayes crashed through, landing in a controlled roll between James and the assassin.“Get down!” Jackson shouted, shoving James behind an overturned table as gunfire erupted from outside. Ghost dove for cover, his own weapon barking in response.“What the hell is going on?” James demanded, his heart hammering against his ribs.“Your sister’s baby wasn’t an accident,” Jackson said, keeping his eyes on Ghost’s position. “It’s part of something bigger.”Across the room, Ghost’s laughter cut through the chaos. “The Hayes boy himself. How convenient – two birds, one stone.”“It’s over,” Jackson called out. “Our people have the building surrounded.”“Your people?” Ghost’s voice dripped with mock concern. “You mean the ones in the lobby? Such a shame about all that gas they inhaled. Serena thinks of everything, you know.”Jackson’s face paled. “You’r
The private dining room at Le Blanc sparkled with calculated opulence. Serena Blackwood had chosen this venue specifically for its exclusivity – and the photographers she’d arranged to “accidentally” catch them leaving. Every detail mattered when orchestrating a public spectacle.“The merger will benefit both our companies immensely,” Edward Jones, Veronica’s father, raised his crystal glass. The candlelight caught the deep amber of the aged whiskey, casting warm shadows across the pristine white tablecloth. “To family.”“To family,” Serena echoed, her smile perfectly measured. Beside her, Damian sat quietly, his once-sharp eyes dulled by the cocktail of drugs flowing through his system. She’d increased his dose slightly for tonight – just enough to keep him compliant without appearing completely absent.Veronica, dressed in a designer gown that probably cost more than most people’s monthly salary, reached for Damian’s hand. “I’m so happy we’re finally making this official, darling.”
The morning sun filtered through the hospital window, casting long shadows across Elara’s bed. She hadn’t slept, couldn’t sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw those photographs – Damian with Veronica, smiling that empty smile she didn’t recognize.James burst through the door, his face flushed with anger. He was clutching a newspaper, his knuckles white against the crisp pages. “Have you seen this? The nerve of them, parading around like...”“I saw,” Elara cut him off quietly, her voice raw from crying. “On the news last night.”Rose, who had refused to leave her daughter alone, shot James a warning look. “Maybe we should focus on getting you well enough to leave the hospital, sweetheart. The new doctor said—”“The doctor said I can go home today.” Elara pushed herself up, wincing at the physical and emotional pain radiating from her core. “And I think... I think it’s time I stopped hiding.”Both Rose and James stared at her. “What do you mean?” James asked carefully.“Seren