Racheal stood in front of the mirror, her hand trembling slightly as she guided the flat iron through her hair. Each strand fell in glossy, sleek perfection, but her movements felt mechanical, her mind miles away. Her reflection stared back at her, her dark eyes shadowed with exhaustion and pain.
“Always, love,” Damian said softly, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. “I’ll always believe in you.” As he held her, the storm inside her began to settle, though the pain never fully disappeared. She knew she would carry it with her to that courtroom, where she would fight not just for justice,
Racheal sat in the conference room, her fingers drumming restlessly on the polished surface of the table, a subconscious attempt to channel the nervous energy that coiled inside her. Across from Racheal, her lawyer, Ms. Jeanine Harper, sat poised and collected. Her eyes, sharp as a hawk's, flicked
The atmosphere of the courthouse shifted as they walked down the hallway—voices and footsteps. Racheal could feel the buzz of activity around her, but it seemed distant, almost muffled, as if the world were holding its breath. When they reached the courtroom doors, Racheal paused for just a moment.
The judge’s gavel struck the desk with a sharp, commanding crack, its sound reverberating off the high walls, and the murmurs of the crowd immediately fell into an uneasy quiet. Judge Theodore Marlow, a man known for his unwavering sternness and unyielding gaze, spoke with a voice that rang out acro
Clara swore to tell the truth, her voice a whisper as she raised her right hand, her fingers trembling like fragile leaves caught in a breeze. The weight of the moment pressed down on her, making her seem smaller, as though the truth she was about to reveal would shatter everything. She stood at t
Racheal’s lawyer stood with a smirk on her face, the weight of victory hanging in the air. She turned to the courtroom, her gaze sharp as she addressed the defense. “As you have all heard, the truth has come straight from the horse’s mouth. Do you have anything to say in defense of your clients?”
Unknown Men POV The room was dim, lit only by the amber glow of a desk lamp and the flickering shadows of the cigar smoke curling through the air. The boss sat reclined in his leather chair, his tailored suit flawless even in the muted light. The thick cigar between his fingers smoldered as he took
Victor’s eyes darted around wildly, searching for any sign of mercy. But there was none. “You can’t… you can’t do this to me,” he choked out, but the officer just chuckled, straightening up. “Goodbye, Victor,” the police officer said, his tone filled with finality. “May you feel every second of wha
*Epilogue Of How Victor Died*** Victor’s vision was dimming, the sterile brightness of the hospital lights barely piercing through the fog clouding his mind. His chest heaved, each breath labored and shallow, but he refused to show fear, even as a sharp, unrelenting pain gripped his heart like a
Racheal's eyes widened, filled with horror and disbelief. She recoiled, instinctively clutching Anna closer to her chest. "No… no, you don’t mean…" Her voice trailed off, her mind racing to deny the awful truth. "Oh my God!" She staggered, pressing a hand against her mouth, her fingers trembling as
Damian took a slow, hesitant step forward, his gaze never wavering from her. His eyes were filled with a longing so intense it could have brought the stars to their knees. He reached out, his hand trembling as he brushed his fingertips against her cheek, his touch warm and achingly real, grounding
But Anna kept crying, her tiny voice piercing through the calm rhythm of the ocean waves, rattling Racheal’s nerves. She tried everything—bouncing, rocking, singing softly. Nothing eased the crying. Feeling defeated, she finally set Anna down on the sand, her heart heavy, only for the little girl
**A Year Later** He was gone. Two words. They carry the weight of a world collapsing, the brutal truth that life can end without warning, without mercy. Death is so final, so unforgiving. They say it’s a thief that steals more than just a heartbeat. It takes away laughter, shared secrets, future
Victor’s eyes gleamed with delight, an almost feral hunger as he watched Damian crumble. He tilted his head, studying Damian’s broken form with a twisted satisfaction. “Oh, Damian,” he purred, relishing each syllable. “Look at you… crawling, sobbing, like a dog begging for scraps. It’s delicious.
What’s the matter, Rachel? Suddenly shy? I said fucking strip bitch! Fucking strip you fucking slut!” he taunted, cocking his head with cruel amusement. “Or do you need another… reminder?” Her breath hitched, her eyes darting to the man Victor had just killed, the blood still pooling on the cold fl
Rachel’s heart seized, her chest tightening painfully. “No!” she gasped, her voice cracking, terror rushing through her veins as she tried to grab her son swiftly before victor got a hold of him. But before she could move, Victor’s hand shot out, grabbing Jamal’s arm in a crushing grip. Jamal strug