LOGINEvery word they threw at me felt like a whip.I never thought Steven could be this cruel.I remembered that night. I was panicking. I was desperate. I came because I didn’t know who else to ask for help. Besides, Mom was responsible. She was the one at fault.I only wanted someone to hold me.I only wanted my father to know what had happened to his grandson.I never imagined the news would kill him.Emma stepped closer until there was barely an inch between us. Her eyes no longer hid their hatred.“You’re a curse,” she whispered sharply. “Since you were little, you’ve brought nothing but trouble. And now you’ve even taken my husband from me.”I could barely breathe.“I lost my father too…” My voice was almost inaudible.“You don’t have the right to cry here!” she snapped.Some guests tried to calm the situation, but Emma didn’t care.“Leave,” she said flatly. “We don’t need your act. Haven’t you embarrassed this family enough? What else are you going to do? Kill the rest of us too?”O
Maggie’s POVI didn’t immediately realize that I no longer had a home.My feet carried me to the apartment lobby out of habit. After leaving the hospital, I just wanted to rest for a while. Reflexively, I returned to the place where Nick and I used to live.As if the world hadn’t collapsed.As if I were still a woman who had a door to knock on and a light that would turn on when night fell. As if Nick would run to greet me when I came home.Only when I stood in front of the building and looked up—at the floor where my unit used to be—did I remember.The apartment was no longer mine.I had sold it.To redeem Nick.I wanted to cry, but I forced myself not to let the tears fall.I still had a reason to come here—to retrieve my important belongings.After climbing the stairs to the third floor, I walked toward what used to be my unit. I knocked gently.“Excuse me,” I said.I repeated it three times before the door finally opened.An elderly man with gray hair stood there. “Yes? Who are yo
POV NicholasI stood in the middle of a living room far too large for a child like me.In front of me, two unfamiliar women with curly hair unfurled rolls of expensive fabric as if I were a mannequin in a display window.“A little taller, please,” one of them said gently, a measuring tape hanging around her neck. I was certain she was a famous designer.I didn’t move. Like a statue.On the black leather sofa, Uncle Victor sat casually. His suit was immaculate, not a single crease in sight. His expression was irritating—he was clearly enjoying the sight of my waist being measured.“Nick is quite short. Make the outfit so he looks a little taller.”My eyes widened. Uncle Victor really enjoyed mocking people. I felt so annoyed.“Uncle, I’m still a child. I’ll grow taller after I hit puberty. One day I’ll even be taller than you.”He gave a faint smile. “Try your best. So far, no one has managed to surpass my height.”So arrogant. Just wait until I grow up—I’ll be taller than him. But for
POV NicholasFrom the very first moment my name was called and the red curtain swept aside, I was certain of one thing—Mom would come for me.I had been scared. I had cried. My throat had even gone hoarse from calling for her over and over again in my head. But I couldn’t keep crying. If Mom knew I was crying, she would be sadder than anyone else in the world.I am Nicholas Hayes.I am Mom’s son.And Mom always finds her way back to me.So I swallowed my tears. I stood a little straighter on that cold stage while the echo of a gavel and low laughter rippled through the vast hall, thick with the scent of expensive wine and foreign perfume.“The bidding starts at one hundred million dollars.”The masked man at the podium sounded as if his voice came from another world.Below me, rows of masked men and women sat comfortably, as though I were not a human being—but a rare painting or a blue-blooded racehorse.One hundred million.Two hundred million.Three hundred million.The numbers floa
POV GallenI never imagined I would see Maggie again like this.Her face was pale against the hospital pillow. Her hair lay tangled around her shoulders. The eyes that once shone so brightly were now filled with pain and fear. And yet—my heart recognized her in a single second.Margaretha Hayes.The girl from the Management Department who once made a nerdy Business Economics student fall hopelessly in love with her.I still remember that day.The faculty cultural festival. The campus field was crowded with traditional food stalls, regional dances, and students laughing as if life had never been difficult.I stood in a corner, hugging several thick textbooks to my chest. An oversized plaid shirt. Dress pants that were slightly too long. Thick prescription glasses that made me look like a background character who didn’t even deserve a line of dialogue.A pathetic guy.Someone bumped into me from behind.My books scattered across the pavement.Laughter erupted. Not friendly laughter. The
POV MaggieThe sharp scent of antiseptic pierced my nose even before I opened my eyes.White. Everything was white.My vision slowly cleared—no longer blurred. A white ceiling. White curtains. The rhythmic beep of a machine beside me, steady and artificial, like a manufactured heartbeat. My head throbbed, as if a hammer had struck my temples over and over again.I tried to lift my hand—something tugged at my skin.A clear tube. An IV.I stared at the needle embedded in the back of my hand, my breath catching in my throat. My heart leapt wildly.“What is this…?”My voice came out hoarse. Dry. Like it belonged to someone else.Then the memories slammed into me without mercy.An abandoned building. The smell of dust and rusted metal. Nick crying in the video they forced me to watch. Men holding knives.I shot upright, making the machine beside my bed beep faster.“Nick! Nicholas!”The door flew open. A nurse rushed in.“Ma’am, please—you need to lie down. Your stitches aren’t stable yet.







