The smell hit him first—dust, hay, and dried sweat soaked into the wooden beams. Zac stepped into the poorly lit space, the creaking barn door closing behind him with a hollow thud.It was a secluded ranch, far from the city. Not marked on the map, or easy to locate. The kind of place where if you screamed, the echo would fade—and no one would ever hear you.A single bulb dangled from a rusty hook above, casting a sickly orange glow over the center of the barn.Below it, a man was seated in a worn-out chair, slumped but barely breathing.It was Brian.His wrists were bound, ankles tied to the legs of the chair, head low like he couldn’t lift it anymore.His face was swollen, bruised around the mouth and cheek. Blood crusted along one eyebrow. His breathing came in short bursts. Every inhale looked like it cost him something. Still, his eyes were wide open, darting around at the figures that stood in the shadows around him.Zac didn’t speak at first. He just stood there, arms folded, a
Late morning sun streamed through the cab window across Johnny Hansen’s face. His duffel bag sat on the seat beside him, his passport tucked into his hoodie pocket, and a boarding pass pulled up on his phone.The airport was minutes away. Just a few more turns, and he’d be out. Canada was calling—a fresh start, a clean slate.He scrolled absently through the web, then stopped. A news notification blinked at the top of his screen: Mia Cornell allegedly files a lawsuit against Zandawoo, followed by the assault video—that same video—still ripping through the internet like wildfire.His stomach churned. His mind slipped, without permission, into the past.**It was a few years ago, during his second year in college.It was Johnny’s party. Loud music blasted in the dimly lit, colorful space. The air smelled of weed and energy drinks. Red plastic cups clinked. People danced, and a mixture of cheap perfume and sweat hung in the air.And somewhere in the corner, near the wall of blinking LED
As soon as Zac stepped out of the interrogation room, the first person he saw was Mia—seated at the far end of the hallway, speaking quietly with another officer.The moment their eyes met, she stood to her feet.“Zac,” she said softly.“Mia?” He blinked, surprised. “You’re here already?”“Yeah,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “We came as soon as we heard.”Behind her, Samantha and Angelo approached quietly. Zac’s eyes moved to them briefly, then back to Mia.She motioned vaguely over her shoulder. “How… how did you manage to handle all this in such a short time?”Zac let out a weak sigh. “We ran a thorough investigation,” he said. “Pulled every string we could find. I’m just… I’m glad it’s finally leading somewhere.”Mia gave a small nod.Zac turned slowly as Samantha stepped closer. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone, handing it to her. “Here. Your phone.”“Oh, thanks,” Samantha replied, taking it. “I’ll just go through the contents shortly.”Then
“Get your hands off my butt, Sir! I’m warning you.” Mia pulled her arm free from his hold, disgust rising in her chest as she grasped a nearby table for support. “And what if I don’t?" he whispered, squeezing his hold tighter. "What comes next, darling?" The charity event thrummed with affluence and power—men in customized suits, women adorned in high fashion, and secrets exchanged over glasses of vintage wine. Soft jazz played in the background, enhancing the lively, cheerful ambiance. Mia was only twenty-two, yet the man beside her, old enough to be her father, didn't seem to care. Seth Cornell—Vice Chairman of the ZIRCONS Group. A name powerful enough to silence a room. The guests’ identities were deliberately concealed for privacy, and their names were replaced with numbered tags. But she wasn’t here for names, for power plays, or for whatever game men like him indulged in. Her task was simple: obtain a saliva sample from VIP01—Seth Cornell—and leave. “Let… go!” Mia str
It was shortly after noon, yet the pounding headache from three sleepless nights pressed heavily on Zac Cornell. The twenty-six-year-old heir sat at his neatly organized desk, staring blankly at the city skyline visible through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The silence was disrupted by an unexpected ring from his phone. It was Martini—an old business associate his late father had trusted. “Hey, Martini, what’s up?” Zac answered, trying to mask the exhaustion in his voice. “Zac, I need you at The Red Room tonight. I’ve managed to sway the investors for Project Rainbow. Are you game?” “The Red Room… a strip club?” His frown deepened in disbelief. “You know that’s not my style, Martini.” “I know, but this is the only chance we’ve got with Suarez and Lorenzo,” Martini said, his voice firm. “We need to move this project forward.” “Can’t we find a more conventional setting?” Zac rubbed his temples, frustration mounting. “I know it’s not ideal for you.” Martini’s tone softened but re
“Are you serious right now?” Mia turned, tilting her head to meet his deep-set, smoky grey eyes. His focus was still on her as if he still had unfinished business with her. Zac exhaled deeply, running his fingers through his sleek black hair. The remaining strands settled back into position smoothly. “Look… I’m sorry if that came off kind of weird. But I can’t help the way I feel about you.” “Oh, please,” Mia scoffed, crossing her arms. “Don’t start. You men all want the same thing.” “No... it's not the way you think, I assure you. My intentions are pure," he stated, his tone gentle. “I want you, Tiffany. Not just for now—but by my side, outside these walls.” Her thoughts whirled, trying to comprehend his words. How did she find herself here, caught in a situation she never saw coming? Zac was supposed to be a distraction for her, nothing more. “I know this sounds crazy, but back there when our eyes met… you felt it too, right?” His voice dropped as he reached for her hand. M
“I’m so sorry, Mia.” Samantha’s voice was soft, filled with sympathy. “I guess this is where we say goodbye again, bestie.” Her voice trembled, revealing the tears about to spill. “Just hang in there a little longer.” Samantha placed a reassuring hand over hers. “Besides, we’re so close to finding your father.” Mia’s expression hardened. “What intel do we have on him?” Samantha turned her laptop toward her, the screen illuminating a familiar face—her father. He was seated in a café in New Jersey, looking just as lively as she remembered. “Seems he’s moving back to New York,” Samantha said carefully, waiting for Mia’s response. Mia swallowed hard, maintaining a steady voice. “Secure his address as soon as possible. I’ll pay him a visit once I return.” “And your mom?” “Don’t say a word to her until I handle this,” her tone was confident. “She’s been through enough since he left.” Samantha’s gaze softened. “Alright… just promise me you’ll be okay.” Mia gave a quick nod, forcin
Mia adjusted her gown as she stood before Zac’s penthouse. It was even grander than she had imagined—a fortress of steel and glass, towering over perfectly manicured gardens. The high walls weren’t just physical barriers; they were a stark reminder of the worlds separating them. But she wasn’t here to dwell on the past. After weeks of preparation, this time, she was Tiffany, the assistant cook. She was greeted by the chief of staff, who offered a polite smile—just enough to be courteous, but guarded. His suit was neat, his posture effortless, as if he had done this a thousand times before. Everything about him matched the place—controlled, precise, leaving nothing to chance. “You must be Tiffany,” he stated, extending his hand. “Come with me. I’ll introduce you to the team.” “Thank you, sir,” Mia said with a steady nod. Stepping inside felt like crossing into another realm. Her eyes swept the space, cataloging every detail—the quiet movements of the security cameras, t
As soon as Zac stepped out of the interrogation room, the first person he saw was Mia—seated at the far end of the hallway, speaking quietly with another officer.The moment their eyes met, she stood to her feet.“Zac,” she said softly.“Mia?” He blinked, surprised. “You’re here already?”“Yeah,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “We came as soon as we heard.”Behind her, Samantha and Angelo approached quietly. Zac’s eyes moved to them briefly, then back to Mia.She motioned vaguely over her shoulder. “How… how did you manage to handle all this in such a short time?”Zac let out a weak sigh. “We ran a thorough investigation,” he said. “Pulled every string we could find. I’m just… I’m glad it’s finally leading somewhere.”Mia gave a small nod.Zac turned slowly as Samantha stepped closer. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone, handing it to her. “Here. Your phone.”“Oh, thanks,” Samantha replied, taking it. “I’ll just go through the contents shortly.”Then
Late morning sun streamed through the cab window across Johnny Hansen’s face. His duffel bag sat on the seat beside him, his passport tucked into his hoodie pocket, and a boarding pass pulled up on his phone.The airport was minutes away. Just a few more turns, and he’d be out. Canada was calling—a fresh start, a clean slate.He scrolled absently through the web, then stopped. A news notification blinked at the top of his screen: Mia Cornell allegedly files a lawsuit against Zandawoo, followed by the assault video—that same video—still ripping through the internet like wildfire.His stomach churned. His mind slipped, without permission, into the past.**It was a few years ago, during his second year in college.It was Johnny’s party. Loud music blasted in the dimly lit, colorful space. The air smelled of weed and energy drinks. Red plastic cups clinked. People danced, and a mixture of cheap perfume and sweat hung in the air.And somewhere in the corner, near the wall of blinking LED
The smell hit him first—dust, hay, and dried sweat soaked into the wooden beams. Zac stepped into the poorly lit space, the creaking barn door closing behind him with a hollow thud.It was a secluded ranch, far from the city. Not marked on the map, or easy to locate. The kind of place where if you screamed, the echo would fade—and no one would ever hear you.A single bulb dangled from a rusty hook above, casting a sickly orange glow over the center of the barn.Below it, a man was seated in a worn-out chair, slumped but barely breathing.It was Brian.His wrists were bound, ankles tied to the legs of the chair, head low like he couldn’t lift it anymore.His face was swollen, bruised around the mouth and cheek. Blood crusted along one eyebrow. His breathing came in short bursts. Every inhale looked like it cost him something. Still, his eyes were wide open, darting around at the figures that stood in the shadows around him.Zac didn’t speak at first. He just stood there, arms folded, a
“Bella?” Angelo whispered, moving toward the entrance. I hope she did not come back to pick another fight. But as he reached the hallway, a familiar face appeared, nearly colliding into him.“Oh—Samantha!”She blinked, holding a small tote bag in one hand and her phone in the other.“Hey. Did I scare you?”Angelo let out a deep breath. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”Samantha stepped inside, her eyes scanning the place. “You guys look like you weren’t expecting me.”“We totally forgot,” Mia said, appearing behind him. “We didn’t hear a knock.”“Oh. The door was unlocked. I figured you were home. By the way, I saw Bella at the gate, actually—she looked… pretty mad.”Angelo and Mia exchanged a glance.“Is everything alright?” Samantha asked, looking between them. “I hope there’s no drama.”Mia folded her arms. “Nothing serious. Just… Bella being Bella.”Samantha gave a small, careful smile. “Okay. As long as it’s not an issue.”Silence hung for a beat. Angelo cleared his throat. “
Mia didn’t move. She relaxed on the couch, back straight, legs crossed, and her hands folded loosely in her lap. Bella continued, zeroing in like a missile. “What the fuck is she doing here?!”Angelo stepped in fast. “Hey—hey, Bella, whoa—chill.”But Bella shoved right past him. “No. Don’t ‘chill’ me. Is this what we’re doing now?” Her eyes blazed as she jabbed a manicured finger toward Mia. “I thought she was happily married.”Mia didn’t answer. Her eyes stayed level as she held herself together.“Hey, you!” Bella raised her voice, meeting Mia’s eyes. “Or is your husband suddenly not enough anymore? Or do you just have this… disease—jumping on every man who shows you attention?”“Bella,” Angelo warned, stepping forward again, blocking her path. “Please… don’t do this.”“Oh, I’m doing it,” she snapped. “She’s a goddamn married woman, sitting in your house like it’s a weekend getaway. What is this—some rehab retreat for junkies?”Mia rose slowly, intentional in every step. Her voice w
In less than no time, Zac reached the neighborhood.As he neared Samantha’s street, he didn’t turn in. Instead, he took the next street over, slowing the car and glancing at the rearview mirror.There were no tails behind him, so he pulled up beside a quiet corner house, parked under the shade of a leaning tree, and stepped out.The sun was bright and hot, and the air was full of city sounds, but the street was quiet.He pulled out his phone and made the call.A second later, a backyard gate creaked open. Samantha peeked out, her movements quick and quiet.She opened the gate fully when she saw him. “Zac,” she breathed. “Thank you so much for coming.”“What’s going on?” he asked, stepping inside the fence.“I don’t know how to get to my car,” she said, keeping her voice low. “I parked it right out front. I was about to leave… then I saw them swarming.”“Don’t worry,” Zac said. “We’ll use mine. I parked it down the block. Come with me. I’ll drive.”Samantha nodded and followed him.The
The following day, Zac arrived at Zandawoo Headquarters the moment business hours began. The elevator doors slid open, and he didn’t pause to speak to anyone—he headed to the executive floor.The receptionist barely had time to look up before he was already halfway across the lobby. His strides were long and determined. He didn’t wait for permission—he didn’t even think he needed it.He walked straight past the front desk, ignoring the assistants who tried to stop him. The hall was still quiet, not many people around yet, and that worked in his favor. The last thing he wanted was more drama—even though he was down for it.Jonathan’s office door wasn’t even shut all the way. Zac pushed it open and stepped inside.Jonathan looked up from his desk, startled. “Mr. Cornell,” he said, already rising to his feet. “I wasn’t expecting—”Zac kept moving until he reached the desk, his hands resting against the wood like a man there for war.“We need to talk,” he said through gritted teeth.Jonat
The tension in the beach house felt like it had a pulse of its own.Zac scoffed, stepping back. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “What the fuck are you even saying?”“You know exactly what I’m saying,” Angelo didn’t flinch. “You dragged her into your world.”“My world?” Zac’s voice rose. “Wait—are you blaming me for this? For that video?”“Of course I have every right to blame you!” Angelo snapped, stepping closer. “Ever since you made her sign that damn contract, she hasn’t had a single moment of peace.”Zac’s expression twisted, his fists flexing at his sides. But Angelo didn’t stop.“She never wanted this life.” Angelo shrugged, spreading his arms. “And now—look at her—caught in this bullshit again.”“You know nothing, Angelo,” Zac retorted, his voice low. “I didn’t know things would be like this. I’ve always protected her, and I still will.”“Ha-ha-ha. How heroic,” Angelo replied, his tone taunting. “Because every time she needs you… you’re not there.”“Well, I’m here now.
By the time Angelo got to the tech corner behind the stage, Jonathan was already there—his face red with panic. He was yelling at the tech crew, who were hunched over a console blinking with error lights. “Take it down!” Jonathan barked. “Get the damn video off the screen! Now!” “We’re trying, sir!” one of the tech guys snapped, fingers flying over the keyboard. “It’s not responding—system error keeps flashing. It’s like a virus or something, an override! The damn thing won’t shut down!” Jonathan cursed, then stepped back with wild eyes. He grabbed a thick cord running to the display hub. He yanked at the wires, pulling one loose. A small spark flew, and the large screen in the main hall went dark. A collective gasp echoed from the hall, but the damage had already been done. An alarm started to wail in the distance—soft at first, then louder. Security teams moved in with accuracy, their earpieces crackling. VIP guests were already being ushered out a side exit, leaving the