GloryThe afternoon dragged on, and time seemed to stretch into a suffocating eternity. I was in my room, seated in the armchair near the window, watching the garden outside. The colors of autumn were beginning to tint the leaves, and the cold wind whispered promises of change. But inside me, everything felt stagnant, frozen in a routine of expectations and disappointments.Since Nancy left, the house has become quieter, but not pleasantly. It was a heavy silence, pressing on my chest and keeping me constantly on edge, as if something was about to crumble. Charles, my husband, had been increasingly distant and irritable. Our conversations were monotonous, just the basics to keep up appearances. The only thing keeping me going was the hope of seeing Harald. But even he seemed more distant lately.Suddenly, a light knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. I turned, feeling a spark of hope that it might be a message from Harald, but I was surprised to see Nancy. She entered the room
GloryThat afternoon felt heavy, as dense as the dark clouds threatening to pour down on the city. I looked at myself in the mirror for the thousandth time, adjusting my dress and touching up my lipstick, trying to hide the pain locked inside me. Every gesture, every movement, was an attempt to piece myself back together, as I felt I was breaking more each day.Harald was waiting for me at the hotel, as usual. It was the only moment of my week that I looked forward to—the only place where I could leave the weight of my life behind, even if just for a few hours. But that day, something felt different. Deep in my chest, I had an unsettling feeling, a sort of premonition that things weren’t right.As soon as I arrived at the hotel and entered the room, there he was, sitting in the chair by the window. His gaze seemed distant, as if his mind were elsewhere. Even so, when he saw me, he stood up immediately and came over to me. I hugged him tightly, letting all my exhaustion and frustration
NancyThe days passed slowly, and with each one, I felt like I was being pulled back into a life that no longer belonged to me. Pretending to be Bruce's ideal wife again seemed like a temporary task at first, something I would do until I could execute my plans. However, as time went on, the line between what was real and what was an act began to blur within me.The imposing mansions, the dazzling dinners in polished marble halls, the expensive perfumes mixed with the subtle scent of freshly cut flowers—all of it began to feel disturbingly familiar again. Extravagant parties where crystal glasses reflected the golden chandelier lights, social events full of fake smiles and political alliances, luxurious trips to paradise destinations aboard private jets… All of it became part of my daily life once more. And somewhere in the middle of it all, I began to wonder: did I still want revenge? Or was I slowly conforming to this life again?It was hard to realize that, on some level, I was los
Nancy I needed a distraction. In recent days, my mind has been in turmoil, a complete chaos of thoughts that has robbed me of peace. Wandering through the Morton house day after day, feeling the weight of what my life used to be and what it had become, was suffocating. The mere thought of spending another afternoon doing nothing deeply bothered me. So that morning, I decided to clean Bruce's office, a task that, in some way, could offer me relief, even if only temporarily. It was a way to try to regain some control over my life. I had always been the submissive wife, responsible for the household chores, even while living in a mansion and having access to all the wealth Bruce had accumulated. In the past, I was used to following orders and dedicating myself completely to the details of the house. Now, that same role seemed to be the only thing I could still control. The idea of organizing Bruce's office seemed like the perfect way to occupy my mind and hands. As I entered the offic
NancyIn the days following the discovery of the documents in Bruce’s office, I couldn’t stop thinking about what I had seen. Every time I closed my eyes, the names and figures replayed in my mind like an unending film. What lay before me was not just a corruption scheme; it was something far larger and more sinister. The Mortons, the family to whom I had devoted so much of my life, were not merely manipulative and cold. They were murderers.Anger boiled within me, but at the same time, I needed to be smart. I couldn’t rush into anything. I knew that if Bruce or any other Morton suspected I knew something, it would be the end of me. They had too much power. And after everything I had suffered, I couldn’t afford to be reckless.The first thing I did was transfer the photos I took of the documents to a secure device. I didn’t trust keeping anything on my phone. It took me days to set up a secure system to store the information, and even then, every time I reviewed those photos, dread ov
Avery's POVThe lights of New York flickered incessantly in the dense night, like artificial stars scattered across the concrete. The air was heavy, saturated with smoke and pollution, filling my lungs with each breath as I walked through the illuminated streets, trying to make sense of what had gone wrong that night. The city felt colder and more distant than ever. Every car that passed was a cruel reminder of how quickly things changed, slipping through my fingers like fine sand."Avery, I'm sorry, but to me, you're just a good friend..."That night should have been a milestone. Deep down, I knew Jake would never be mine. He was always the kind of man who seemed unreachable, like a distant star. Still, I found myself fantasizing and wishing, if only for a second, that he would choose me. That he would look at me the same way he looked at Nancy, with that intensity and passion that consumed me with jealousy. Every word he spoke about her cut me like a sharp blade, and yet, I couldn’t
Avery YoungThe cold night continued to wrap around me as I hid in the shadows, my heart beating erratically in my chest. Every sound seemed amplified—the heavy footsteps of the surrounding men, the hum of the helicopter in the air. My lips trembled, and I struggled to stay in control. Fear spread through my body like an electric current, making it hard to breathe. The idea of doing something—anything—flashed briefly through my mind, but I hesitated.The men who had taken Jake weren’t ordinary people. They exuded violence, as if they knew they were in control. And as a woman alone, what could I do against them? The image of Jake being overpowered and of Nancy being dragged into the helicopter still pulsed in my mind. Adrenaline made my hands shake, and for a moment, I considered calling the police. "Would 911 fix this?" I thought, my fingers moving automatically toward the phone in my pocket.But I stopped. What if they found out I had made the call? What if those men knew I was here,
AveryFear gripped me as I watched Jake's chest rise and fall in that shallow, fragile rhythm. He lay on the bed, hooked up to all sorts of medical equipment that I’d smuggled from the hospital. It wasn’t difficult, not with the access I had. Being a nurse had its perks, but none of them had ever felt as desperate as this. Keeping Jake alive—keeping him hidden—had become my sole mission, the only thing I could think about day in and day out.The night they dumped him into that lake felt like a blur now, a foggy nightmare that replayed every time I closed my eyes. I still couldn’t believe he had survived. I couldn’t believe that I had pulled him from the water, that I had resuscitated him, and that he was here, in a darkened, unused room in the hospital, teetering on the edge of life.Jake had been in a coma for weeks. Each day that passed without him waking up chipped away at my hope, like water eroding stone. I had begun to wonder if he would ever wake up. And yet, no matter how hope