The truck, top-heavy with crates of eggs, tipped dangerously as Nathan fought to regain control. His heart pounded in his chest, the steering wheel jerking under his grip. But it was no use—he couldn’t stop it. The truck skidded, flipped over the embankment, and tumbled into the ditch below. Nathan lay there, trapped in the cab, his head throbbing from the impact. The sound of eggs smashing and metal groaning filled his ears, but over it all, he could hear Broderick’s cruel laughter. The rich boy stood at the edge of the embankment, looking down at Nathan with a smug smile on his face. "Ere now, Nathan! You're a right ol' nobody! Just a bleedin' charity case, ya 'ear me? You'll never be part of our set, old chap. You're just a poor, unwashed urchin, not worthy of polishing our silverware. Do accept your station in life, Nathan, and don't bother trying to rise above your betters. You'll always be a lowlife, Nathan, so get used to it, ya wretched little blighter!” Broderick sneered b

Clara felt a lump in her throat, unsure if it was from relief or fear. “I just… I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.” Frost gave her a sidelong glance, his tone light but with an edge of determination. “I’ve been hurt worse, trust me. And I’ve survived. Broderick isn’t the storm, Clara. He’s just a cloud. He doesn’t know it yet, but the real storm’s already here.” Clara’s mind raced with thoughts and emotions swirling like a storm. She wanted to ask more, to dig deeper into Frost's past, but something held her back. There was a gravity in his demeanor, a sense that his scars were his own to bear, and prying too much would only push him further away. The car turned onto a quiet, tree-lined road, the city’s lights fading behind them. Clara could feel the tension easing slightly, though her heart still pounded with residual fear. She looked at Frost again, her voice trembling. "Frost... why are you helping me? You barely know me." He glanced at her, his expression softening f

Cozbi quickly sat upright and momentarily allowed the computer in front of her to steal her eyes. “What do you mean ‘what am i doing?’ Can’t you see that I am working? Huh?” Cozbi asked, diverting her gaze to the pc in front of her while trying to avoid Alex’s eyes. “Mom look, if this is about Mr. Frost and your stupid plan of trying to overthrow him, you need to stop,” Alex said, his voice carrying the weight of frustration and exhaustion. “We’ve been through this before. You can’t just keep obsessing over him like this. It’s… unhealthy.” Cozbi let out a bitter laugh, sharp and cutting. She swiveled in her chair, finally meeting Alex’s eyes. “Unhealthy?” she repeated, her tone dripping with disdain. “You think I’m doing this for my health, Alex? No. I’m doing this for you. For us. So that the Reed name means something more than failure and wasted potential!” Alex crossed his arms, his posture defensive. “I didn’t ask for this, Mom. I didn’t ask for you to turn every waking moment

“Hahaha…. The story is soon coming to an end, brother. And I must credit you, you are the smartest person in the room. You fit every narrative.” Neil said to Marcus, his voice as weak as the bones managing to cling to his flesh. Marcus remained silent. “I know every single deed you have done. Everything, Marcus.” he smiled, but it only made his monstrous face more scary. “You know, I miss the days when you, Nathan and I were back in college, you know, when we used to laugh and plan our futures, when everything seemed so simple. But look at us now. You, Nathan, and I, we're all just pieces in a game we thought we could control." Neil's voice was laced with bitterness and a touch of desperation, as if he was grasping for some semblance of power in a situation that had long since slipped out of his control. Marcus stayed quiet, his expression unreadable. His mind was elsewhere, calculating the next move, but he didn't let Neil's taunts or self-pity affect him. He'd learned long ago t

This was it for him! The last thing he would have loved to do was look Nathan in the eye and tell him how he messed up, to let Nathan hear how sorry he was, and to plead for forgiveness and perhaps expose all of Marcus’ diabolical deeds. Then, maybe, just maybe God might consider keeping a seat for him in the sky. Neil’s creaking voice faded into his head as he got up. He could swear that somewhere out there, Nathan was alive. He hoped that the wind would take his thoughts to his old friend, even though they would never get to see each other again. As soon as Neil got back to his cell, something caught him off guard. There were more men in his room than usual. There were only 5 inmates in the room with him, himself included. But this time, he saw what felt like 12 men, all armed with muscles, some with knives, daggers, and even batons. They all turned around, keeping mute and allowing the air to get tense. One of the men stepped forward. Neil looked at Damon’s knuckle. He looke