Jackson’s heart raced as he drove down the bustling city streets towards Damian Blackwood’s penthouse apartment. It had been over a month since they last spoke, an eternity compared to their usual daily check-ins. Jackson’s calls to Damian’s cell had gone straight to voicemail, leaving him increasingly worried about his friend's wellbeing.As he approached the towering luxury high-rise, he took a deep breath to compose himself before parking his car. He stepped out after numerous honks from his car.“I’m here to see Damian Blackwood,” Jackson said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Please open the door.”The doorman shook his head. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Blackwood is not receiving any visitors at this time.”Jackson felt his stomach drop. “That can’t be right. We’ve known each other for years. Surely he’ll see me. Can you please let him know I’m here?”“I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir.” The doorman’s tone was firm. “I have strict instructions not to allow anyone to come inside the pentho
Jackson sat in his car, staring at his phone screen as he scrolled through his contacts. One name caught his eye: Henry, Damian’s personal assistant. If anyone knew what was happening behind those penthouse doors, it would be him. Without hesitation, he pressed the call button, his heart pounding with each ring.“Hello?” Henry’s voice was hesitant, almost a whisper. The background noise suggested he was somewhere private, away from prying ears.“Henry, it’s Jackson. I need your help. Something’s wrong with Damian, and Serena won’t let me see him. What’s going on?” Jackson tried to keep his voice steady, but the worry seeped through.There was a long pause on the other end. “I... I can’t talk about this, Mr. Jackson. I don’t know anything.”“Please,” Jackson interrupted, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “I’m not asking for details. Just tell me if he’s okay. Is he safe? That’s all I need to know.”After another pause, Henry’s voice came back, lower this time. “I don’t know about hi
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
Six Ten years. Ten fucking years of blood, bullets, and brotherhood.I stared at the ornate ceiling of Don Vicenzo's study, counting the cherubs painted in some long-dead artist's vision of heaven. Ironic, considering the hell that transpired in the room below them."You understand what you're asking, Six?" The Don's voice carried the weight of tradition. Of rules written in blood. "La fratellanza is for life."I kept my expression neutral, years of training holding my features in check. "I understand, Don Vicenzo. But I've served faithfully. I've never asked for anything before."The Don's fingers drummed against his mahogany desk – the same desk where I'd pledged my loyalty a decade ago. A frightened kid with blood on his hands and nowhere else to go. Now I was his best enforcer, the shadow that kept La fratellanza's enemies awake at night."The number six," he mused, "has become quite the legend. Our rivals whisper about it. The police have entire task forces dedicated to it." A wr
Five years had passed since the tumultuous events that had reshaped their lives. The world of Damian and Elara had transformed, each piece falling into a complex but harmonious puzzle of success, love, and calculated revenge.Jackson and Tessa’s relationship had blossomed into something unexpected and profound. What had begun as a professional connection had gradually evolved into a passionate romance. Jackson, now known for his cold, calculated approach to business, had found a softness in Tessa that he never thought possible.She brought light to his structured world, her carefree spirit balancing his intense personality. They had married a year after Damian and Elara’s epic wedding - a celebration that had been the talk of high society.That wedding - Damian’s grand gesture to Elara - had been nothing short of spectacular. He had spared no expense, transforming an entire historic estate into a breathtaking venue. Thousands of white roses lined the pathways, crystal chandeliers hung
Elara stood at the doorway, waving at Tessa until her car disappeared down the driveway. A soft smile lingered on her lips, but it quickly faded as she turned back to the house, her thoughts drifting back to Damian.His presence always left her both breathless and overwhelmed, and the way he had looked at her this morning stayed imprinted in her mind. She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.Walking back inside, she passed a few maids tidying up the living room. They greeted her with polite smiles, and she returned the gesture before heading to Ace’s nursery. She found him sound asleep, his tiny hands curled into fists. Elizabeth had decorated the nursery in soft pastels, filling it with warmth and love. Elara stood by the crib, watching her son’s chest rise and fall.***The concrete walls of the women’s correctional facility felt cold and unforgiving. Elizabeth walked with measured steps, her elegant demeanor unchanged despite the stark surroundings. Her purse was carefully
They rested for a while before Elara stood up.“I need to bathe,” she said, rising to her feet.“Are you sure?” Damian asked, noticing her legs trembling slightly.“Yes,” she replied. She knew she needed some space from him; otherwise, he might take her again. “I’ll be back.” With trembling legs, she carefully made her way to the bathroom. Under the spray of the shower, she sighed contentedly, still feeling the lingering warmth of Damian’s affection on her skin.She quickly washed herself, then reached for a towel to dry off. Wrapping it securely around her, she walked back to the bedroom. At the nightstand, she found her moisturizer and began applying it to her skin. Her body trembled under Damian’s intense gaze, which followed her every movement.“Stop looking,” she said, glaring at him.“Why should I? I can never get enough of you.”A blush crept onto her face as she turned away. “Don’t say that,” she whispered.“I won’t get tired of saying it, honey. You’ll just have to adapt.”Ela
The first light of dawn gently filtered through the sheer curtains of the penthouse, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. Outside, the world was slowly waking up, but inside their bedroom, a peaceful stillness enveloped them, as if time had paused.Elara was nestled against Damian, her head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His arm was wrapped around her, his hand gently tracing circles on her bare shoulder.Damian stirred, his eyes fluttering open to find Elara already gazing at him. Her soft smile greeted him, and for a moment, he allowed himself to bask in the serenity of her presence.“Good morning,” she whispered, her voice still husky from sleep.“Good morning, love,” he replied, his voice deep and warm. He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering as if savoring the simplicity of the moment. “Did you sleep well?”Elara nodded, her fingers tracing the defined lines of his chest. “I always sleep well when you’re here.”A
“She’s finished,” Jackson said quietly, his voice filled with grim satisfaction. “There’s no coming back from this.”Damian nodded, though his mind was already elsewhere. “She made her choice.”Jackson glanced at his friend, studying the hard lines of Damian’s face. “And Daniel?”“He won’t get far,” Damian replied, his voice low and confident. “By the time he realizes his escape route is compromised, it will be too late. The authorities will handle the rest.”For a moment before Jackson spoke again. “Do you think she meant it?”Damian arched a brow. “Meant what?”“When she said she loved you.”Damian’s lips curled into a cold, humorless smile. “Love?” He scoffed. “Vera doesn’t know the meaning of the word. What she feels isn’t love. It’s an obsession. An insatiable need to possess what she can’t have.”Jackson exhaled softly. “I guess I always knew. I just hoped…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter now.”Damian’s gaze softened briefly. “You deserved better, Jackson.
Vera stumbled backward, her legs shaky beneath her as the walls of her reality closed in. Her heart raced, and her mind screamed for a way out, for a lifeline, but none appeared.The calculated calm she once wielded like a weapon was shattered, leaving only the raw, frantic fear of a woman cornered.“You... you don’t know anything!” Vera spat, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and desperation. “You’re bluffing.”Jackson’s smirk only deepened. “Am I?” He leaned against the edge of the mahogany desk, arms crossed, watching her unravel with an almost clinical detachment. “Let me guess, you’re thinking of running, aren’t you?” His eyes gleamed with amusement. “Trying to calculate how far you can get before we catch you?”Damian’s cold gaze remained fixed on her, unyielding and unmerciful. “You’re not going anywhere, Vera. Not until you answer for your sins.”“I’ve committed no sins!” she shouted, her voice cracking under the pressure. “You’re just trying to pin your failures on me. Y
“Jackson.” Vera’s voice echoed through the silent room. She had been called by him, and now she stood in his study, surrounded by towering bookshelves and the lingering scent of old paper.She smiled as she walked around, her fingers trailing along the spines of leather-bound volumes, searching for something she couldn’t quite name. The late afternoon light filtered through heavy curtains, casting long shadows across the Persian rug.She was still searching the room when Jackson walked in. His footsteps were nearly silent on the thick carpet, but something in the air changed – a shift in pressure, perhaps, or just the weight of his presence.“You’re here.” His voice startled her, making her stop immediately. She rose to her feet, trying to compose herself. “Vera.” His tone was cold, like ice, as he walked toward her.“Yes,” she replied with a smile. A smile she knew Jackson always looked forward to. “You called me here? Is something wrong?” She placed her hand on his chest as Jackson
The sterile lights of Damian’s penthouse cast a cold, artificial glow across the room, but the atmosphere between him and Jackson was anything but sterile. It buzzed with an undercurrent of controlled chaos, the final pieces of a counter-plan falling seamlessly into place.Damian leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled beneath his chin, his sharp gaze locked on Jackson. “You’ve done well, Jackson. Vera and Daniel need to know who they were planning for. I will make them suffer and regret ever thinking of hurting me or my loved ones.” His voice was calm, but the satisfaction lurking beneath it was unmistakable.Jackson met his gaze with equal confidence. “She underestimated me. So did Daniel. They thought I was nothing more than a pawn.”Damian’s lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile. “You’ve proven otherwise.”Jackson appreciated the rare acknowledgment, but his mind was already on the next move. “Daniel will act soon. His pride won’t let him sit idle. He’s desperate, and despe