Third Person's POVEarly the next morning, Raymond walked into the hospital’s administrative office, the subtle hum of the western zone adding to the crisp, professional air of the hospital’s operations. This was the central hub where doctors received their daily assignments, and Raymond approached the counter confidently, his polished demeanor masking the darker intent behind his visit.The administrator, an older man with glasses perched on the tip of his nose, glanced at Raymond’s file before announcing, “Dr. Raymond, you’ve been assigned to Room 200 on the second floor.”A subtle smirk tugged at Raymond’s lips. He thanked the administrator, feeling the weight of success settling on his shoulders. Everything was aligning perfectly with the plan he and Henry had orchestrated. Today could mark a significant turning point in their scheme.Raymond made sure his coat was spotless and his appearance impeccable as he exited the office. On his way to the main hospital building, he greeted
Third Person's POVAs Raymond exited the hospital in a fit of rage, he was too distracted by his own frustrations to notice someone walking toward him. He accidentally bumped into them, nearly losing his balance.“Motherf—!” he began, his voice booming with irritation, but as he looked up, his expression froze in shock.Standing before him was Zia, her arms crossed, eyebrows raised in surprise.“Raymond?” she said cautiously.Realizing his outburst, Raymond’s face softened, and he quickly straightened his coat. “Zia! I’m so sorry for yelling. I didn’t see you there,” he stammered, trying to recover.Zia gave a half-smile. “It’s okay. Though I didn’t expect to get called that so early in the day.”Raymond laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “I’ve just had one of those mornings. Anyway, I didn’t think you’d actually come.”“You texted me, didn’t you?” Zia said, tilting her head slightly. “I figured I should at least check in since it sounded urgent.”Raymond nodded, his
Third Person POVSophia walked out into the lounge, her expression cold as she adjusted her silk robe. Henry was pacing the room, his face darkened with frustration, while Raymond sat on the edge of a sleek leather sofa, his fingers idly drumming against the armrest.“What now?” Sophia asked, her tone sharp, already sensing the sour mood hanging over the two men.Henry stopped in his tracks, his fiery gaze snapping to Sophia. “The plan didn’t work,” he growled. “Lorenzo wasn’t in the hospital when Raymond got there.”Sophia froze, her hands clenched at her sides. “What do you mean, he wasn’t there? Weren’t you supposed to take care of this?” Her eyes darted between the two men, her voice rising with each word.Raymond sighed heavily, his calm demeanor barely masking his irritation. “Do you think I wouldn’t have handled it if I had the chance? By the time I arrived, they’d already moved him. No one knows where.”Sophia’s face twisted into a scowl. “So you’re telling me that after all y
Third Person's POVZia's phone buzzed, interrupting the quiet evening she shared with Mira. She glanced at the screen and saw a text message from Grandpa Edward Audrey.Grandpa Edward Audrey:“Zia, you and Mira are the only ones I can trust. Here’s the address of the new hospital where Lorenzo is staying. Please visit when you can and ensure everything is alright.”Zia read the message twice, her heart sinking slightly. She glanced at Mira, who was seated on the couch across from her, reading a magazine.“It’s from Grandpa,” Zia said, holding up her phone. “He sent the address of Lorenzo’s new hospital.”Mira looked up, her expression thoughtful. “Looks like he really does trust us.”Zia nodded, gripping her phone tightly."So when are we going?" Mira asked. "Tomorrow." Zia replied and Mira nodded her head. Zia stared at her phone, the screen illuminating her conflicted expression. Raymond’s name glared back at her alongside the message he had just sent:Raymond: “I want to take you
Third Person's POVRaymond pulled up to Sophia’s apartment late in the evening, his mood dark and his mind clouded. The failures of the day weighed heavily on him, but what awaited him inside the apartment only added fuel to the simmering fire of his frustration.As he opened the door and stepped into the lounge, he froze. There they were—Henry and Sophia locked in an intimate kiss, oblivious to his presence. The sight made his stomach churn. Clearing his throat loudly, he walked further into the room.Henry turned sharply, his expression unreadable but his stance defensive. “Raymond,” he greeted with forced calmness.Sophia, unbothered, smirked as she adjusted her blouse. “Oh, it’s just you.”“Just me?” Raymond hissed, glaring at them both. “What if it wasn’t just me? What if another member of the Audrey family walked in here? Do either of you realize the kind of scandal this could cause? Especially with you,” he jabbed a finger at Sophia, “parading around as Lorenzo’s fiancée?”Sop
Third Person's POV Grandpa Edward Audrey’s MansionThe vast expanse of Edward Audrey’s mansion seemed even more imposing under the weight of the news.The meeting room, a lavishly decorated space with heavy oak furniture and crystal chandeliers, was filled with the low murmur of voices.Edward Audrey sat at the head of the table, his sharp eyes studying the Russian moguls seated before him. Their suits were tailored perfectly, their faces unreadable, but Edward’s calm authority kept the tension balanced.A man with silver hair and a thick accent leaned forward, breaking the silence. “Mr. Audrey, we need assurance. The shipping lanes must remain secure. Our clients do not tolerate delays.”Edward folded his hands on the polished table. His voice was steady, almost cold. “You have my assurance, Mr. Ivanov. Audrey Co-op has never failed a partner, and I won’t let this project be the first.”A younger Russian at the end of the table frowned. “Your competitors are watching closely. If wo
Third Person's POVZia and Mira walked out of the apartment together, the soft sunlight casting warm hues over the quiet street. Mira, ever the cheerful one, carried Zia’s bag with a knowing smile. Zia, on the other hand, seemed tense, her mind racing with thoughts she couldn’t share.As they reached the sidewalk, the hum of a car engine pulled their attention. Raymond’s sleek black car rolled to a stop in front of them, the tinted window sliding down to reveal his carefully crafted smile.“Zia,” he greeted smoothly, his sharp eyes scanning her face. “Where are you heading?”Before Zia could respond, Mira stepped in, her voice light and breezy. “She’s just seeing me off. I have a meeting to get to.”Raymond’s gaze shifted to the bag Mira carried, his brows lifting slightly. “A meeting? That sounds important.”Mira grinned. “Always is. You know me.” She turned to Zia and gave her a quick hug, whispering in her ear, “Send me the address. I’ll handle the rest.”Zia nodded subtly, her g
Third Person’s POVZia sat stiffly in Raymond’s car, the faint hum of the engine doing little to ease her nerves. She was cornered. It wasn’t just about protecting herself anymore; she had to protect her unborn child. Her fingers tightened on her lap, her gaze fixed out the window as they drove in silence. Raymond’s occasional glance toward her made her uneasy, but she knew she couldn’t afford to show it.Arriving at the hospital, Raymond’s demeanor shifted to that of a professional. His charming smile was back, but Zia saw the faint cracks in it—the barely concealed frustration simmering underneath.“Come,” he said with a motion of his hand, leading her into his office. The room smelled sterile, with neatly arranged equipment on a steel tray and papers stacked on the desk.Raymond began the examination with feigned interest, his hands moving with precision as he checked her vitals and monitored the baby. His gaze lingered on the ultrasound screen longer than necessary, his jaw tighte
Outside Zac's apartment, Lorenzo sat outside on the terrace, the cool night air doing little to soothe the storm in his mind. He took another sip of his drink, the burn of the expensive liquor not enough to drown out the chaos that had become his life. Three weeks. Three fucking weeks, and everything had turned upside down.Zac stepped out, carrying a bottle of vintage whiskey and two glasses. He poured them both a generous amount, the golden liquid glistening under the dim outdoor lights.“You got something frying your mind?” Zac asked, settling into the chair across from Lorenzo.Lorenzo grabbed his glass and downed it in one swift motion. He exhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. “Might be frying a dough in my mind, though it’s a burnt one.”Zac smirked, swirling his drink. “Spit it out, cock. No use sitting here sulking like a bitch.”Lorenzo slammed his glass on the table. “Just a few weeks ago, I made the worst mistake of my life. I divorced Zia. I betrayed her. I didn't know she
The papers were signed. Zia’s hands shook slightly as she scribbled her name at the bottom of the discharge forms, giving them permission to leave the hospital. It felt surreal—after everything, after all the bullets, chases, and betrayals, they were just… walking out.Zac led the way, his white suit practically glowing under the fluorescent lights. Lorenzo followed, his steps heavier, his mind elsewhere. Nia and Mira trailed behind, their fingers loosely linked, a silent promise exchanged between them.They slid into the car, the low hum of the engine a steady presence in the background. Just as Zac put the vehicle into gear, Lorenzo spoke.“Wait.”Zac shot him a sharp look in the rearview mirror, foot hovering over the pedal. “We don’t have much time. You risking your life, Zia’s—”Lorenzo cut him off, locking eyes with Nia and Mira. “Didn’t you say they have a hacker or some shit tracking our phones?”Nia, her voice edged with sarcasm, replied, “Like hell they’d let us be when chas
Nia and Mira burst into the hospital, their steps quick and urgent. The antiseptic scent in the air was almost suffocating, a stark reminder that they were finally safe—at least for now. Nia’s hand still trembled from the adrenaline, her hoodie sticking to her skin from sweat and exhaustion.They reached the reception desk, where a middle-aged nurse with a stern face eyed them suspiciously.“We’re here for Zia,” Nia said, voice tight.The nurse hesitated, her gaze scanning their disheveled appearance.Nia’s phone vibrated. A quick glance at the screen—Zia. She answered immediately.“Tell the nurse to let you in,” Zia’s weary voice came through.Nia handed the phone over. The nurse listened for a second, then sighed and nodded. “Third floor. Room 307.”Without another word, they rushed down the corridor, their footsteps echoing against the linoleum floor.The moment Nia stepped into the room, Zia was already waiting. She barely had time to react before her sister pulled her into a tigh
Money Over TrustAt 6 PM, the Nurth Strip Club came alive, its pulsating neon lights casting shadows over the grungy street outside. Attorney Jameson Danae parked his sleek black car at the curb, adjusting his tie as he stepped out. The heavy bass from the club’s music reverberated through the air, a stark contrast to his otherwise composed demeanor. As he entered, the thick scent of sweat, perfume, and alcohol hit him like a wave.Inside, chaos reigned supreme. Women in barely-there outfits performed on poles, contorting their bodies to the delight of cheering men throwing wads of cash. In darker corners, couples indulged in explicit acts with no regard for privacy. The strip club’s allure was raw, unapologetic, and intoxicating, but Jameson’s focus was singular.He scanned the room, his sharp eyes darting past scantily clad waitresses and intoxicated patrons until they landed on Sophia. She sat in a private booth, her posture poised and commanding despite the raucous environment. He
Grandpa Edward’s Office The massive oak desk in Grandpa Edward Audrey’s office gleamed under the soft glow of the chandelier. The room exuded authority, with shelves lined with leather-bound books and paintings of family ancestors hanging on the walls. Edward sat in his high-backed leather chair, his sharp eyes focused on the man across from him—his attorney, Jameson Danae.Jameson had been with Edward for fifteen years, navigating the turbulent waters of business and politics with calculated precision. From quashing rumors to outmaneuvering assemblymen resistant to Edward’s proposals, Jameson had proven to be invaluable. Even when the odds seemed insurmountable, he’d managed to turn situations to Edward’s benefit.Edward leaned forward, his fingers interlocked on the desk. “Jameson, I’ve been thinking. It’s time to start transitioning the company to the next generation. I need to appoint a CEO—a perfect candidate who can handle the legacy.”Jameson adjusted his glasses, his expressi
Lorenzo lay propped up on the hospital bed, his breathing still shallow but steady. The nurse entered, a tray in hand, and placed his medication on the side table. “Here’s your dosage for the evening—500 mg. Take it now, with water,” she instructed, her voice calm and professional.Lorenzo complied, swallowing the pills, his eyes drifting to the chair beside him. Zia sat quietly, her arms crossed, her expression unreadable. The weight of her presence settled over him like a storm cloud. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Silence filled the sterile room.Outside Nia’s ApartmentThe roar of a V8 engine echoed through the narrow street as a sleek, black SUV pulled up in front of Nia’s apartment building. Its tinted windows glinted ominously under the dim streetlights. The vehicle came to a stop, and the doors swung open in unison, revealing five figures stepping out with precision and purpose.Each carried weapons that screamed military-grade lethality. One man he
Northern Raymond and Henry climbed out of the car, the acrid scent of cigarette smoke clinging to the crisp northern air. Raymond’s hand drifted to his side, fingers brushing against the cold steel of his pistol. The weapon rested snugly in a military-style tactical holster strapped high on his hip, its grip angled for a quick draw. A matte-black finish gleamed faintly under the flickering streetlights, a silencer attachment peeking out just enough to hint at the kind of missions it had seen. Henry exhaled a plume of smoke, his sharp gaze sweeping the dimly lit street. “Let’s move,” Raymond muttered.The smell of burnt weed and stale sweat hit them before they saw the group of thugs lounging outside a dilapidated storefront. Shirtless and tattooed, the boys passed a blunt between them, their laughter low and menacing. Raymond and Henry approached with calculated steps, their presence cutting through the tension like a razor.One of the thugs, a lanky guy with a scar running dow
Zia stood at the foot of Lorenzo’s hospital bed, her eyes sharp and unwavering. Lorenzo, pale and bruised, winced as he adjusted his position. The weight of his guilt bore down on him like the IV drip tethered to his arm.“Look at me, Zia,” he demanded, his voice gravelly with both frustration and exhaustion. “I know I am a greedy bastard for choosing Sophia over you. But what was I supposed to do? She came to me crying, telling me she was pregnant. Did you expect me to throw her out like trash?”Zia folded her arms, “And what did you expect me to do? Smile, walk out of the marriage gracefully, and leave the house I built with you? All because of a woman who didn’t just warm your brother’s bed but had the audacity to crawl back into yours?”Lorenzo flinched as though her words were physical blows. He sighed deeply, his chest heaving. “I made a mistake, Zia. I won’t deny it. But when she told me about the baby—”Zia cut him off, her voice cold. “You don’t get it, do you? You threw me a
Outside the state’s judiciary residence, where Mr. Justin, Chief Justice of [State Branch], resided, the street was eerily quiet. Raymond and Henry sat in their car, the engine humming faintly, both smoking in contemplative silence. Raymond flicked his cigarette out of the window, nodding to Henry.“Let’s do this,” Raymond muttered as he stepped out of the car.The two approached the grand yet modest house, its white exterior showing the slight wear of time. Henry knocked sharply, the sound echoing in the silence. After a moment, the door creaked open, revealing a middle-aged woman with tired eyes. Mrs. Juliana, Mr. Justin’s wife, stood there, her face creasing into a slight frown.“Can I help you?” she asked cautiously, her gaze darting between the two men.“We’re here to see Mr. Justin,” Raymond replied, attempting a polite tone.Mrs. Juliana hesitated but eventually stepped aside. “Come in. He’s in his study.”They followed her through a polished hallway, where old photographs and