LOGINSebastian listened to every word as if gathering valuable information—not only out of concern for Karen’s shaken psychological state but also because of the silent opportunity to rearrange the board in his favor. His face remained calm as a marble statue, but inside he was calculating and anticipating events.He sat Karen down on the sofa and offered her a glass of water to drink and calm down.“I lived in the orphanage without my parents and never cared much about it. Mrs. Malcolm and the other children kept me company.”Sebastian remembered his own childhood at Saint Mary’s.“I never wanted to know about their lives... until that night,” Karen’s voice was choked with emotion. “I just... I didn’t want to die without knowing who I really am, my last name, and my origins.”Sebastian remained silent, letting her speak, offering the kind of steady presence that made anyone feel safe to break down.She continued, clenching her fingers against her knee. “I wanted to know what was wrong wit
Karen couldn’t bear the impact of the revelation. Her legs gave way, and her body collapsed under the weight of the truth. She fell to her knees on the cold floor, tears streaming down her face in uncontrollable waves, as if years of pent-up pain had finally found a way to escape.“Oh, my dear...”Mrs. Malcolm bent down with difficulty, her knees cracking, and wrapped her arms around Karen. The nun’s usual stiffness disappeared; in its place was only an exhausted, fragile woman, a survivor of secrets that should never have been kept.They cried together.Two lives lost to the same tragedy—the orphan who sought a name, the guardian who tried to erase it to protect her.“Why didn’t you tell me?” Karen asked between sobs, her voice hoarse, barely able to breathe.“Because it’s dangerous.”Mrs. Malcolm held her face with trembling hands, as if afraid the girl would disappear before her.“The underworld of Las Vegas is dangerous. I was afraid for you... and for the children at the orphanag
Although they were not related by blood, Karen had always had a deep connection with Mrs. Malcolm and loved her like a mother.Over the years, she had learned to decipher every micro-expression on her face: the discreet joy, the restrained sadness, the silent disappointment. And at that moment, she recognized something she never expected to see in herself.Fear.“Why are you lying to me?” she asked, her voice soft but laden with disbelief.The nun swallowed hard, embarrassed by the situation. Her pupils contracted, as if searching for an exit that did not exist within that room.“I’m not lying,” she replied, looking away toward the windows, as if the landscape outside could save her.Karen didn’t understand the nun’s reaction. After all, all the orphans always asked about their parents, and the subject was always treated naturally.“You’re hiding the truth from me, which is the same thing.”Mrs. Malcolm closed her eyes for a moment—a brief, defensive gesture, like someone who takes a
Karen couldn’t stand being locked up inside the house any longer. The mansion was a golden cage—bright, quiet, full of luxuries, but still a prison.“I’d like to go to the orphanage to see the children,” she said, standing at the closet door, watching Sebastian adjust his tie in front of the mirror.“I don’t think it’s wise. I can’t protect you on the streets,” he replied, without looking at her.She clenched her fingers against her palm as if trying to hold on to something invisible.“Am I going to be stuck here forever?”Sebastian walked past her as if the question were just an inconvenient noise on his way to the door.“‘Forever’ is a long time,” he replied.Karen felt her chest tighten. It wasn’t the answer she wanted. It wasn’t even an answer.“I can’t stand being here anymore. I feel like a prisoner.”This time he stopped. Silence filled the room. Sebastian didn’t turn his face immediately; he seemed to be weighing risks, calculating probabilities. After a few seconds, he took a
Sebastian threw himself onto the sofa after a few minutes to digest Olivia’s words. He was a bitter man, almost an unshakeable rock without emotion, but being an orphan was his Achilles heel. It always affected him.“Many times I wish I had amnesia and could forget my past,” he said with restrained anger. “I wish I could forget the years I lived in that orphanage. Hellish place!”Karen sat down next to him. She knew that pain of abandonment. She also struggled with that feeling sometimes.“But the rest of the world wouldn’t let you forget,” she hissed.He jogged his finger over the tattoo on his forearm. It wasn’t a design, but a number. A record. An official scar.The skin there was rougher, as if the ink carried the weight of the past. He remembered the moment that mark was engraved on his flesh: the cold needle, the smell of cheap disinfectant, the feeling of being cataloged like an object.It wasn’t just an identification number. It was his sentence.That code reminded him every d
Dorothy returned home and poured herself a generous martini. Her hands trembled as she raised the glass to her mouth. The bittersweet taste burned her throat, but brought some calm to her troubled mind.“Where were you?” Marcus asked, his voice sounding calm, but she could feel the anger contained in every word.“I went to the salon to wash my hair,” she replied, stammering.His gray eyes rested on her with a coldness that stripped her of any lie.“You went to Sebastian’s house. Why?”Dorothy swallowed hard and almost dropped the glass in her hands.“Honey, I was worried about him... and his wife, she... she’s so innocent.”He approached her with slow, calculated steps to intimidate her, to make her uncomfortable, to remind her who was the boss.“What exactly are you worried about?” her husband asked bluntly.Dorothy stepped back to catch her breath and come up with a convincing lie.“Well, he’s your son, and he was shot, and she was kidnapped. Isn’t that reason enough? Any normal per
Karen approached slowly, keeping a respectful distance. Despite everything, despite the rivalry, the unhealthy love triangle, the kidney. She saw a sick woman leaning against a sink as if she were about to collapse.“Do you need any help?” Karen asked. “Do you want me to call someone?”Lindsay stoo
When the dance ended, the music stopped, Karen and Sebastian remained there for a second longer than they should have.Too close. Too aware of each other.It was Karen who pulled away first, breaking contact. Her fingers slid through his, her hand on his bare back slowly, reluctantly withdrawing.A
Karen didn’t know what was going on around her.She saw Sebastian tense; she saw the Russian man waving; she saw Marcus’s eyes shining with something that looked like victory. But she didn’t understand why. She looked at everything with curiosity and innocence; she was a spectator in a game whose r
Karen went to the window and looked out at the city; so bright and dangerous. Las Vegas at night was beautiful in a way that hurt. Neon lights promising dreams, casinos offering fortunes, hotels selling fantasies. All lies. All traps, and she had fallen into one of the worst.Karen felt foolish for







