MasukDaniel let out a long breath on the other end of the line, gathering the courage to be genuinely honest with Alina for the first time, without any hidden calculation behind it."He heard me and Clarissa arguing," he said finally. "About Walsh. About how his death is connected to me."A long silence followed on the other end."So it's true," Alina whispered, her voice trembling. "You really did kill him."Daniel closed his eyes, no room left to deny it. "Yes."That confession, though Alina had long suspected the truth of it, still struck with a different kind of force now that it was finally spoken aloud."Why are you telling me this now?" Alina asked. "After everything you've done to hide it?""Because I'm tired of lying," Daniel answered, his voice honest in a way that felt foreign to him. "I'm tired of destroying everything trying to hold onto something I'd already destroyed myself from the very beginning. And now Junior—" his voice caught, "—Junior sees me for what I really am. A m
Both parents turned at once, their faces pale upon hearing that small voice.Daniel was the first to move, stepping quickly toward the door where Junior stood, his small body trembling, his eyes wide with fear."Junior." Daniel's voice instantly softened, but he couldn't fully hide his panic. "How long have you been there?"Junior stepped back, moving away from his father's outstretched hand."Papa killed someone?" he repeated, his voice shaking, tears beginning to well in his eyes, still looking tired from his illness."No, son, listen to Papa—" Daniel knelt down, trying to match his son's height, but Junior kept backing away."I heard everything," Junior said, his voice now breaking with sobs he could no longer hold back. "Mommy said Papa killed someone. Because of the article about Mama Alina."Clarissa stood behind him, her face deathly pale, realizing just how big a mistake they had just made—arguing without noticing there were small ears listening."Junior, sayang," Clarissa sai
Clarissa's hand trembled violently, the phone nearly slipping from her grip."I... I don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice too high, too panicked to sound convincing."Nyonya Sterling," Reyes said, his tone remaining calm but firm, "we found a record of a transfer from your account to Steven Walsh's account two days before his death. We also recovered several messages despite them being deleted—messages between you and Walsh regarding the article he wrote about Alina Hayes Blackwood."Every word struck Clarissa like a series of blows.She had thought she'd deleted everything. She had thought the trail was gone."I didn't know he was going to die," she whispered, panic fully taking over her voice. "I swear, I never meant to—""Nyonya Sterling," Reyes cut in, "I suggest you don't say anything further without a lawyer. But I also want you to know, we're not only investigating you. We're investigating the entire sequence of events—including who ordered Walsh's death a
News of the raid spread quickly, despite Daniel's efforts to contain it as much as possible.The media began to whisper. Market analysts started asking questions. And in his lawyer's office, Daniel sat facing the best legal team money could buy, all their faces showing the same tension."This is a very serious situation, Tuan Blackwood," said his lead lawyer, a man named Gregory Hastings who had handled various complex cases over three decades. "The communication records with Vincent Moretti, Dr. Whitmore's testimony, and now reports of a pattern of witness intimidation... this is no longer just an accusation that can be easily denied.""What can we do?" Daniel asked, his voice weary.Hastings let out a long breath. "We need a new strategy. Denying everything won't work anymore. Too much evidence has started accumulating. We might need to consider negotiation.""Negotiation?" Daniel raised his head. "You mean pleading guilty?""What I mean," Hastings said carefully, "is considering a
Marcus immediately started digging, his fingers moving quickly on his phone, trying to reach every contact who might have an answer."I don't have the details yet, Tuan," he said, his voice still tense. "But my source says this isn't an ordinary raid. They have an official warrant, which means a judge approved it based on sufficiently strong evidence."Daniel paced back and forth in his office, his mind racing to recall every trace that might still remain, every gap that might no longer be as protected as he had assumed."Judge Hartford," he muttered. "He was supposed to hold back anything connected to this investigation.""It wasn't Hartford who signed this warrant," Marcus said, reading the latest information that had just come in. "It's a different judge. Judge Patricia Simmons. It seems this case was transferred to a different court a few days ago, and you weren't informed."Daniel stopped pacing, something cold crawling up his spine."Transferred? How could that happen?""I think
The words hung in the air, and for a few seconds, the silence in the room felt like something you could hold in your hand.Marcus looked at Daniel, trying to process what he had just heard."Tuan," he said finally, his voice trembling between fear and something far deeper—a moral doubt he had suppressed for years in order to keep his job. "I think I misheard. Please repeat what you just said."Daniel looked at him, slightly startled by Marcus's unusual tone."You heard clearly," he said, though his own voice had begun to sound less certain."Tuan," Marcus stepped forward, something he rarely did without being asked, "Junior is your son. The same child who cried out for Alina's name, whose body has already suffered enough from his psychological condition. Are you truly considering keeping him sick? Deliberately?"Daniel said nothing, his jaw tightening, but no denial came from his mouth."I've worked for you for ten years," Marcus continued, his voice growing stronger even as his body







