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The energy in the room was a radiation of coldness in its most toxic form. And although they were quite a number of people in the room, the silence was such that if a pin dropped to the floor, the sound would be loud and clear enough for everyone to hear.“Lord Castro… what do we do next?” A man finally asked, breaking the silence. “Raquel was supposed to take over this great clan once you're gone.”A much older man, dressed in all black, and holding a cigarette in his right hand shook his head, and the room tensed up in anticipation as they waited for him to speak. “And who says I'm leaving anytime soon?”“My lord, Marco is right, now that your only heiress is gone, what becomes of the Clan, and the ones responsible for her death?” Another man, dressed in all black as well, asked. “The lawyer, and her husband… you spent years avenging the deaths of your cartel members, and Raquel in question was your daughter and…”“That's enough!” Lord Castro yelled, hitting his palm against the ta

**FIVE YEARS LATER*** It is crazy how time flies, leaving very little or no room for correction of past mistakes. Although some people get lucky enough to make atonement for their sins, others do not, rather they spend the rest of their days in anguish, and drowning in deep seethed guilt. Living with the consequences of your actions is something that cannot be bargained, and the rationale behind this, only the creator knows. Quite popular yet true quotes… probably a product of karma, or beyond physical wisdom. It has been five years since everything, yes… everything. Raquel was later rushed to the hospital after the accident, since she was found to still have a little life left in her. However, her punishment was not over… all the innocent people she'd done no good to, seemed to be fighting against her, thus, the life left, was not sufficient enough to sustain her for a little more time. Raquel Castro was confirmed dead few hours after getting into the hospital, her Mafia fami

Travis' hopeful gaze lingered on Alison as he waited for her to say something.What did she mean by she was ahead of him on this one? And the look she had in her eyes was one he took a lot of time to understand.Whenever she knew a secret or had a surprise planned out, that was the exact same expression.“It depends on you… what do you want to hear?” she shrugged and sat upright, so did he.“I want to hear everything Alison, the whole plan.” He insisted and she nodded.“We are going to be needing Uncle Carlos' help on this one.” She started. “I have been keeping tabs on Raquel, and I'm glad she is still here in Chicago. Apparently not yet aware that we know about all of her stupid deeds.”As She spoke, his gaze drifted off, picturing her words clearly. “And since she doesn't know that we are aware of her atrocities, I'm pretty sure she's out there living her normal life.”“Exactly, she doesn't even have any reason to suspect that anyone knows about her sins, since she was smart enough

Alison smiled widely settling onto a long couch, with Travis by her side, and her gaze darting around the room, to the happy faces of her guests - unexpected guests actually.Forgiveness felt exciting, it made her feel lighter, like a heavy weight just got lifted off her shoulder.“This has to be the most underrated pill.” She whispered, snuggling closer to Travis.“What's that?” He asked, staring in her eyes, with his arms wrapped around her.“Forgiveness.” She responded, and broke off their eye contact, allowing her gaze wander off. “You know, when I got Bruno arrested alongside his mother, and gained custody over my son… it did not feel this satisfying.”Oscar and Karen stopped their conversation and had their entire attention fixed on the couple, who were just starting to reinkindle their love.“I felt thirsty, like there was so much more I was missing out on.” She continued. “You know that feeling when you have already gotten everything you always wanted, and yet it was not as sa

The moment he sighted Alison walk out of the room looking like a ghost, better still, a frame of her former self, Travis' eyes widened in shock, so did his mouth. There was not any way he would have believe that his Alison would lose so much weight and life in just a matter of twenty one days. Her collar bones were glaring, deep enough to hold water in them. Her eyes were red, and so was her face… a testament to the tears she had to shed and the pain she'd gone through.Alison on the other hand, kept staring at him, although at first she didn't want to admit it, he was looking so haggard and unkept, his hair was messy and his moustache was starting to grow wild.Only twenty-one days apart did this to the couple, who would have thought so.Still standing apart, the couple kept staring at each other, with so many words running through their minds, yet no one was uttering any words.Who would?Travis who was articulating his thoughts and thinking of the perfect way to get Alison's for

After so much hesitation, Travis finally planted a soft knock, on the door of Megan's apartment.“Who is it? How can I help you?” He heard Megan's soft voice ring from inside, and moved back slightly.As sounds of footsteps approached and grew louder, so did Travis’ heartbeats. What if she sends him away rudely?Alison must have told her about everything that happened, so how was he going to face her now?“Who is it, yo …” Megan's voice stopped halfway as she sighted Travis standing by the door, looking pale.“Y..you're here,” she said, obviously shocked. “I never thought you'd stop by.”“I'm sorry, I swear, I'm really sorry.” He said and Megan folded her arms under her chest.“What do you want? Why are you here?” “Aunt Megan, please… I need your help, don't say no, I beg of you.” He pleaded. “A lot happened, and I really need to speak with Alison.”“Well… sorry to disappoint you, but Alison is not here.” Megan shrugged and turned to go in, but Travis held onto her hand, with guilt

THIRD PERSON POV (NARRATOR'S POV)The waiting room, which had once been a bruised sort of sanctuary where worry was shared, now felt like an interrogation cell. Detective Miller — efficient, flat, and unyielding — had taken over a small, sterile consultation room down the hall.Two uniformed officers stayed outside, a constant, blunt reminder of how serious this was. The air inside was charged with unsaid accusations: the family’s private grief had been pulled into the open and was now under the cold, watching eye of the law.Miller started with Kane, Rhea’s grandson. “Mr. Callahan,” she said, calm and measured, “you were the one who asked us to come. Walk me through what happened.”Kane, still stunned, sat ramrod straight. “My grandmother, Rhea Callahan, collapsed. They brought her here. The doctors found a contusion on her temple — an unexplained injury. We want to know how she got it.” His jaw tightened as he looked at Miller. “She’s been under a lot of stress lately, but… this isn

THIRD PERSON POV (NARRATOR'S POV)The nurse's words hung heavy in the air, silencing all previous animosity."A small, unexplained contusion... before her collapse." The implication was stark and undeniable. The previous bickering seemed trivial, almost obscene, in the face of this new, sinister possibility. Everyone was frozen, processing the implication.Kane's face, already pale with grief was now drained of all remaining color. Rohan stopped pacing, his eyes wide with a dawning horror. Aria felt a cold knot tighten in her stomach, her gaze darting between the nurse and the faces of the Callahan family, each reflecting a different shade of shock and dawning suspicion.Even Zane and Sibil, for a fleeting moment, seemed genuinely stunned into silence.Kane was the first to break the silence. He pushed himself out of the chair, moving towards the nurse with an urgency that belied his earlier defeat. His voice was a low growl. "A contusion? What kind of contusion? Are you saying... she

THIRD PERSON POV (NARRATOR'S POV)The waiting room was thick with the aftermath of Dr. Evans' grim news. Kane sat slumped in a chair with his head in his hands, the picture of utter defeat. Rohan suddenly started pacing restlessly, running a hand through his thinning hair, his usual sharp edges dulled by shock.Aria just stood by the window, her gaze fixed on the sterile corridor, trying to process the devastating reality of Rhea's condition. The shared grief, however fractured, had created a temporary, uneasy truce.Then the waiting room door opened again, but this time, it wasn't a doctor. Zane and Sibil entered, with Sibil clutching her stomach like it was already bulging, their presence immediately disrupting the somber atmosphere.Sibil, despite the gravity of the situation, managed to look impeccably dressed, though a slight crease in her silk blouse hinted at a hurried arrival. Zane, ever the picture of calculated concern, scanned the room, his eyes lingering on Aria, then on K

THIRD PERSON POV (NARRATOR'S POV)Rohan’s cruel smile was still etched on his face like a predator savoring it's victory. Aria met his gaze, her own chin high, a defiant fire in her eyes despite the tremor in her hands. The silence in the lobby was thick with the aftermath of their verbal sparring, every employee frozen in place, holding their breath.Then, a jarring, insistent ringtone sliced through the stillness. It was Kane’s phone, vibrating urgently from his pocket, a harsh intrusion into the tense tableau. Kane, who had been watching the confrontation from the glass wall of his office, now strode out, his face still set in a grim line from his own internal battle. He answered immediately, expecting a business update.But as he listened, his expression drained of color. The phone almost slipped from his grasp, his knuckles whitening as he clutched it. "Grandmama? What happened?… Not breathing?… What hospital?"Each word a raw, guttural sound, laced with a panic that Aria had nev

THIRD PERSON POV (NARRATOR'S POV) The glass doors parted, and Rohan Callahan stepped inside like he owned the air itself. His cane clicked once against the polished floor, and at once the entire lobby seemed to shift—workers froze mid-step, mid-conversation, heads bowing as though they were greeting a king. The silence was suffocating. Abigail noticed first as her eyes widened, then dropped instantly, her hands clutching the file at her chest. Aria, beside her, only frowned, confusion scribbled across her face. She glanced at Abigail, then at the eerie stillness filling the building. "What—" she whispered. Abigail leaned closer, panic whispering through her voice. "Lower your head...it's a symbol of respect." Aria blinked at her, stunned. "Why?" Abigail’s lips parted like she couldn’t believe the question had left Aria’s mouth. But before she could explain, his eyes found her. Rohan. It was a cold, sharp and knowing eyes locking on Aria with surgical precision. She f

THIRD PERSON POV (NARRATOR'S POV) The building stretched wide and glassy, a monument of wealth that seemed almost untouchable from the outside. Inside, though, it hummed like a living thing, with phones ringing, printers whirring, shoes clattering against marble, the low murmur of meetings seeping through half-closed doors. It smelled faintly of polished wood, ink, and expensive coffee. Aria hadn’t expected to care. Usually, this was Kane’s world—cold and metallic, all business. She thought she’d walk in, paste her smile on, and let her mind drift elsewhere while Abigail paraded her down bland hallways. But Abigail didn’t just parade. She explained. "These floors house the executive offices.." Abigail began, her voice steady but not monotone. She didn’t just spit facts; she colored them, layering detail over detail in a way that even Aria, who normally tuned out the jargon, found herself leaning into. "Most of Kane’s core team works from here. Each division reports daily—fin