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The Cost of Civility
Last Updated:
2025-07-05 20:23:00
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In the Wake of Truth Past the Noise
(Andrew’s POV)Andrew Dole’s Office BuildingFrom my seat behind the desk—monolithic teak, carved less to impress than to command, older than most of the men who pretended to respect it—I watched the skyline unfurl like a mural beyond the wall of glass, noiseless, unending, and utterly indifferent.The city looked defanged from this height—its ambition reduced to a scatter of obedient lights. But this view wasn’t meant for wonder. It was a perimeter—wide, clear, a reminder of how far the fall could be if I ever slipped.This was my office. Mine by grind, by grit, by the blood-soaked steps no one dared trace. And everything about it had been sharpened since the last breach.The renovations after the kidnapping had gutted the floor. What was once a modern marvel had been turned inside out—rewired, reinforced, reimagined.Walls had been torn down and rebuilt with ballistic fiber panels sandwiched beneath the luxury veneer. The marble tiling now hid pressure sensors.The overhead lights, d
In the Wake of Truth Phase One
(Julia’s POV)The silence that settled after Nathan’s departure was broken only by the gentle clinking of dishes as I wiped the last plate dry. Warm water streamed over my hands, the cadence soothing—reflective, almost meditative.I hummed a low, aimless tune that slipped out without thought, a quiet reflex to soften the hush of being alone in the house. The scent of toasted bread and fried eggs still lingered mildly, mingling with the Mandarin soap clinging to my fingertips.I kept my movements purposeful, almost cheerful, but every small action had a deeper edge. This wasn’t domestic bliss. This wasn’t healing—it was me holding myself together, refusing to sink beneath the weight of what was coming.I dried my hands slowly, draping the towel over the sink edge. The kitchen was without stains. Just the way I needed it to be. Spotless. Controlled.But nothing about my situation was either.I stood still for a while, staring out the window above the sink. The sun was high now, casting
In the Wake of Truth A Different Morning
(Nathan’s POV)I woke earlier than usual.Exactly thirty minutes before my alarm could scream its insistence into the silence. The gentle blue light of a beautiful morning streamed in through the half-slit blinds, dust dancing faintly in its path.But my thoughts were already on the day ahead, moving faster than my body could catch up. There was no time for snoozing or contemplation.A stack of files waited for me at the office—contracts that needed review, and signatures to scrawl across documents that could make or undo a month’s worth of strategic progress. After yesterday, I couldn’t afford another crack in the foundation.I sat up, leaned forward, elbows on knees. Ran a hand over my face.And then my phone buzzed beside me.Desmond.I answered, voice gravelly from sleep. “Morning.”“Sir,” he said, tone brisk but laced with concern, “I just wanted to check in. How’re you feeling this morning?”“Better.” I paused. “What’s the update?”He didn’t need clarification. “I’ve carried out
In the Wake of Truth What Followed Her Back
(Nathan’s POV)It wasn’t long before my thoughts began to drift—unwillingly, yet unrelentingly—toward the deeper ache beneath it all. Julia’s silence still echoed like a puzzle left unsolved, but something heavier was already pressing in. Sharper. Less forgiving.The Sturridge deal.“They’re threatening to walk.”Those were Desmond’s exact words—delivered hours before everything went black.I could still feel the edge of the desk beneath my palm. The sudden tilt of the room. The roar that filled my ears. My knees buckling. My body giving out the very moment it felt like everything I’d built was about to collapse.And then—a bump. A jolt. Nothing dramatic.Just enough to snap me back into the moment.I blinked, sat forward.“Michael,” I said, voice low but firm. “Take the Mall route. We’ll drop Desmond off at his place first.”“Yes, sir.”Desmond, seated beside me, shifted slightly. He didn’t speak, but the energy changed. Subtle. Aware. I didn’t have to look at him to know he was watc
In the Wake of Truth Not Quite Gone
(Nathan’s POV)The soft beep of the cardiac monitor had faded into the background—a consistent, dull rhythm that barely drew my attention. I blinked up at the ceiling, its harsh white glow unfamiliar, too clean. The whole room felt distant, sterile, like I wasn’t invited here. Neither did the fog still sitting in my head.I turned to the side and reached for my phone on the tray nearby.4:07 p.m.I’d been out for over two and a half hours—rare for someone like me, especially in the middle of the day. Sleep and I weren’t exactly close. It had to be whatever mild drug Dr. Stephanie added to the IV. Subtle, but strong enough to drag me under. I could still feel the aftereffects—my limbs a little sluggish, my heartbeat steady but distant, like I hadn’t fully caught up with myself yet.Still, that strange pocket of awkwardness replayed in my mind—the moment Stephanie stepped aside to speak with Julia on the phone. I hadn’t caught much of the conversation—just the quiet click of the call co
In the Wake of Truth The Cost of Saying Nothing
(Julia’s POV)I hadn’t planned on powering my phone back on. I didn’t want voices. I didn’t want opinions. I didn’t want the weight of anyone’s expectations pressing down on me. When I left the hospital grounds, I told myself I was done for the day—done caring, done explaining.But around thirty-two minutes into the drive, the silence started to feel unbearable. The hum of the tires, the occasional whoosh of a passing car—it was all too clean, too detached. There was a stillness in it that didn’t feel peaceful; it felt like something pressing in. Something inside me began to itch, a sensation like an insect crawling beneath my skin, subtle but maddening. An unease that refused to be neglected.That feeling—I knew it all too well, though I’d always pretended it didn’t matter.I powered it back on with a shaky thumb. Notifications spilled in. A couple of missed calls. A few from unsaved numbers.My eyes skimmed over the notifications without settling. I wasn’t ready to respond—didn’t wa
