The office still smelled of polished wood and faint ink, but the air was heavy—so heavy it felt like no one dared breathe. Adrian Hawthorne hadn’t raised his voice. He didn’t need to. His silence was a weapon sharp enough to slice the room apart.Mr. Nigel, who just minutes ago strode in with arrogance, was no longer the same man. His confidence had shattered under Adrian’s gaze, the kind of gaze that didn’t just look at you, it dismantled you piece by piece, stripping you of lies, excuses, and pride until nothing remained but the naked truth of your weakness.“I—President Hawthorne,” Mr. Nigel stammered, his throat bobbing, his once-slicked hair damp with nervous sweat. His hands shook as he nudged his wife, who still stood frozen in disbelief. “Apologize. Now.”Mrs. Nigel flinched as though the command came with a lash. She opened her mouth, but no sound came. Her hand twitched toward her pearls as if clutching them would shield her from the storm gathering before her.Adrian didn’t
The sting of the slap still hung in the air like a ghost, sharp and humiliating. Layla’s hand pressed against her cheek, the skin already flushed red. She didn’t cry—she refused to—but her eyes shimmered with fury. Alina clung to her side, wide-eyed and trembling, while Leo stood stiff, his small hand curling around his sister’s wrist as if anchoring her to him.The hallway outside the classroom had gone dead silent. Parents, students, even teachers who had been milling around froze in place, whispers rising in waves as they registered what had just happened. Mrs. Nigel stood with her chin high, chest heaving, as though she had just defended her family’s honor instead of striking another woman in a school corridor.“Discipline has to start somewhere,” she declared, loud enough for the gathering crowd. “If guardians won’t do their job, then someone else must.”Layla’s jaw tightened, but before she could speak, a new voice cut through the air.“What the hell is going on here?”Every hea
The morning sun poured into the kitchen in soft golden streams, catching on the glass vase of lilies Sienna had set out on the counter. The smell of butter and cinnamon rolls drifted through the air, but it wasn’t food that had Alina bouncing in her seat.Her eyes sparkled, cheeks flushed pink as she babbled about colors, ribbons, and balloons.The past week had been spent Birthday planning for Leo and Alina. Their birthday was in a few days and it’ll be the first he spends with them. He had to make it worth it. Alina held the catalogue pointing “ I want pink ones, and purple, and maybe silver too because silver looks like magic,” she said, swinging her legs under the chair. “And a big cake—two layers, no, three. With stars. Can we, Mummy?”Sienna laughed softly, brushing flour from her fingers. “We’ll see, baby girl. That’s a lot of cake.”Leo, sitting across from her, pretended not to listen, eyes glued to the tablet in his hands. But the faint tug at the corner of his lips betraye
The glow of the iPad lit Leo’s face in the dark, turning his young features sharp, almost older than they should have been. His room was quiet except for the hum of the AC and the occasional soft click when he tapped the glass. Outside, the garden’s night chorus played—a distant cricket, a lazy croak from the pond—but Leo barely registered it.On the screen, his empire teetered on the edge of collapse. The digital factories blinked with warning icons, red graphs dipped like cliffs, and chat bubbles from his teammates flickered furiously.[Raven]: We’re done. The investors are pulling out. This level’s impossible.[Hex]: We should just reset. Start over. Cut losses.Leo’s lips pressed into a thin line. Resetting meant giving up, and giving up meant weakness. He hated weakness.His finger dragged across the screen, zooming into the sector with the failing factories. Numbers ran through his head—overheads, production costs, morale scores. He whispered them under his breath like a mantra
Adrian returned home later than usual, his shoulders stiff with exhaustion though he made sure his face wore the same easy smile. Work still clung to him—the faint scent of coffee, city air, and the leather of his car—but his eyes softened the instant he stepped through the door. He loosened his tie with a practiced flick, draping his jacket over the back of the couch.He had barely sat when a knock came at the door.The nurse entered quietly, her white uniform crisp, her hands steady as she carried the small black case. Adrian’s lips twitched upward in a polite acknowledgment, but his body sagged with the familiar heaviness. She had been coming for weeks now, and though the ritual was routine, it never stopped being a reminder.He sank into the armchair by the window, where the light was fading, golden rays painting sharp shadows across his cheekbones. The nurse prepared the syringe with the kind of efficiency that came only from repetition. The smell of antiseptic bit into the air,
The news broke like wildfire. “Blockbuster project halted—lead actor missing!” “Production on hold indefinitely—Marris blacklisted amid scandal!” “Where is Leo?” The headlines painted themselves across every entertainment site, whispered on radio shows, echoed through late-night television. Marris’s once-bright star sputtered and fell in the span of hours, blacklisted by every major studio. Directors who once begged for his attention now scrubbed his name from contracts. And Leo—his vanishing left a hollow space in the industry that no rumor could fill. Voss had seen to it personally. His precision was terrifying, every thread tucked neatly away, every trail erased until not even the most ravenous reporter could sniff out the truth. No cameras, no witnesses, no lingering trace of the blood at the abandoned plaza. Everything was totally wiped out . The world would believed he must have quit acting to chase a degree abroad. Some actors did that, disappear from the spotlight for a f