LOGINNelly sat stiffly in the passenger seat, her fingers trembling against her lap as Marcel drove in silence toward the station.The morning traffic flowed steadily around them, but neither of them paid any attention to it. Nelly kept staring ahead through the windshield, her mind replaying everything that had happened over the last two days.He had argued with her for almost an hour earlier, insisting that they had pushed the line too far already.His words had been firm, leaving little room for negotiation. He had repeated himself over and over, trying to make her understand that what had started as a desperate search for justice had become something far more dangerous.She wanted to keep digging, convinced she could find just one more clue that would break everything open, but Marcel wouldn’t hear it.He told her she had no training, no protection, and no idea how violent men like Roland could be.Each warning had sounded painfully reasonable, yet it did little to quiet the determina
The night in New York was unusually quiet, but Marcel’s apartment was alive with tension. The laptop screen glowed between him and Nelly, casting pale light across their tired faces, while the air remained thick with fatigue, frustration, and the pressure of a mystery that refused to loosen its grip.Two days had passed since Nelly’s narrow escape at the bar, and the footage she’d recovered was now their only lead.The small apartment looked more like an investigation room than a home. Empty coffee cups sat on the table. Notes were scattered across every available surface. Neither of them had gotten much sleep, yet neither was willing to stop.Marcel scrolled through the files again, replaying the video of the shooting — frame by frame. Roland’s face appeared clearly this time, frozen in the act of pulling the trigger.Nelly’s hands tightened on the edge of the table. “That’s him,” she said under her breath, her voice trembling slightly. “The man who killed Caleb.”Marcel leaned clo
Charlotte sat quietly in her office, the letter of invitation lying open on her desk. The cream-colored paper rested beside a stack of untouched files and reports that had been gathering for weeks. It was from the Global Business Alliance, inviting her to speak at their annual summit in London.For a long time, she said nothing, only stared at the paper as if it were asking too much of her. The past months had left her hollow, and business felt like a foreign language. Once upon a time, an invitation like this would have excited her. She would have studied every detail, prepared for every session, and looked forward to the opportunity. Now, all she felt was exhaustion. The words on the page blurred together as her mind drifted elsewhere, toward memories she could neither silence nor escape.Megan leaned on the doorframe, watching her. Concern lingered in her eyes as she took in Charlotte's withdrawn appearance. “You should go,” she said softly. “You need this, Charlotte. You’ve be
Nathan’s phone buzzed on the desk while he was still midway through a meeting with a supplier.He stepped out into the corridor and pressed the screen to his ear.On the other end Inspector Dennis’ voice was sharp, businesslike. “Mr. O’Neil, we’ve been trying to reach you for two days. You were asked to report for questioning. If you’re not at the station in two hours we’ll come to you and place you under arrest by every means necessary.”Nathan started to reply, to explain the board commitments and the chaos of the last week, but the inspector cut him off. “This is not negotiable. You are a person of interest in a very sensitive investigation. Come now.”The words felt colder than the winter air outside. Nathan closed his eyes for a heartbeat, then told the supplier he’d return later.He took the main road to the station, hands gripping the steering wheel because there was no other way to steady himself.At the police station Dennis met him at the entrance with two officers. The int
She had tried talking first. The bartender’s eyes had slid cold when she showed Caleb’s picture. “You a cop?” he’d asked, trying to size her up.The question had come out casually, but there was something dangerous beneath it. His eyes lingered on the photograph for only a second before returning to her face. The look he gave her made it clear that he was measuring every word she spoke, every movement she made.Nelly had smiled and shrugged, playing casual, but he wasn’t interested.The bar’s atmosphere had turned hostile almost immediately. What had seemed like ordinary customers moments earlier suddenly felt like guards posted at invisible checkpoints. Three men materialised behind her, faces like threats.The bartender had made a cutting gesture with his hand; she understood and left without drama.There was no point pushing further. Not there. Not surrounded by men who looked like they solved problems with their fists before asking questions.That night she’d been shook, but not
The nights had grown unbearably long for Charlotte. Sleep came in fragments — shallow, restless, haunted by flashes of Caleb’s face and the sound of his laughter that now only existed in memory.Every morning felt like a punishment, every hour another reminder that the man she loved was gone.The mansion that once echoed with warmth now felt hollow. She wandered from room to room like a ghost, unable to settle.When Megan, her mother, moved in a week after the burial, Charlotte barely protested.Megan’s presence was a relief and a torment all at once. She meant well — cooking, checking on her, trying to keep conversations alive but Charlotte’s silence was an unmovable wall.That evening, Megan sat beside her on the couch, gently taking her hand.“Charlotte, you have to stop this,” she said softly. “You can’t bring him back by hurting yourself.”Charlotte didn’t respond. Her eyes were fixed on the flickering TV screen, though she wasn’t watching.“I know you’re angry,” Megan continued,
"Mom, did you find that fairy tale book?" Celine's voice was low but sharp, each syllable edged with impatience as she spoke into her phone.She sat on the king-sized bed, still dressed in silk pajamas that clung to her frame. The luxurious hotel room was dimly lit by warm bedside lamps, casting s
The hall was filled with elites from every corner of the country. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, casting soft golden light that reflected off polished marble floors. White roses lined the aisle in perfect symmetry, their fragrance blending with the low murmur of the guests. Every
About a week later, the pale morning light filtered weakly into Charlotte's hospital room. The smell of antiseptic hung in the air, heavy and unchanging. Charlotte sat on the edge of her hospital bed, slowly buttoning up a loose cardigan over the thin gown she had been wearing for days. Her movem
“Charlie sis,” Celine called again, her lips curved into that familiar fake smile that never reached her eyes. “To celebrate my wedding with Nathan next week, Mom and Dad booked a private dining room at Trans-Hilton Hotel. You should come too.”The words settled in the room like dust.The name of t







