All Chapters of Sins Of His Touch: Chapter 11 - Chapter 15

The hospital’s fluorescent lights buzzed overhead—too bright, white, and real. The kind that had my heart pounding for a million and one reasons. I pushed through the double doors of the neurology wing, the weight in my handbag making my arm ache. There wasn't a thing heavy but somehow, my body itself felt too solemn for me to carry. I didn’t stop at the nurses’ station. They knew me by now. I was the daughter of the woman in 814C. The one with the too-young face and the too-many brain scans, and a medical chart passed around like it burned to touch. “Miss Hayes?” Dr. Josh’s voice caught me off guard as I turned the corner. His tone was tight, clipped. The kind I’ve heard countless times but this one seemed different. Like it was urgent. My heart lost its pace. I straightened, heart already thudding. “I just got here. What’s going on? Is it my mom?” His face was grim. Not the worried- grim. Not sympathetic-grim kind. It was like the final grim. “Come with me,” he s

NeuraAI was a dangerous involvement. When I was nobody, I developed an interest in technology. I studied and advanced to the level where I learned how to hijack information when I was 12. Before my father announced me as the heir to GrayHill, I took over a company called ThrashCop, one of the biggest companies in New York City. At then, GrayHill was under so many other companies but Thrashcop happened to be the top tier. When I discovered some funny tricks I learned about their new modern chip, I used it to my advantage, and took over the company from Rudolph Holdago, a multi-billionaire. Married to Sarah Holdago with two children. And apparently, he had another secret affair with his wife’s mother. Heck, one would say. I called it interesting. Family business has never been my issue, but ThrashCop was a company I so wanted to lay my hands on. I didn't just discover his secret affair, I was well aware of the fact that he dealt with drugs. Shipped them overseas like a clean man and

As the elevator doors slide open, a hush of air and the soft thunk of weightless doors vanishing into the walls, I saw him—tall, poised, standing near the floor-to-ceiling window, sipping a drink as if this were all part of a plan he had mapped out days ago.Like he’d been expecting me. And maybe, he had.The place smelled and felt exactly like him when I walked in. Framed against a backdrop of clouds and skyline, the man looked carved from art. Like a perfect artwork. He stood with his back to me, a tumbler in one hand, his gaze cast out over the city like he was listening to it breathe.Glass walls stretched around him in every direction, making the penthouse feel like the inside of a diamond. Everything gleamed: obsidian floors, silver fixtures, a piano that looked like it had never been played. The furniture was modern, low-slung, and dark. Art hung like ghosts on the walls—abstract, unnerving, and probably worth more than my mother’s house.But that wasn't all. The sight of him d