Word spread quickly among the extended family that Victor had begun searching for Logan.It didn’t take long.Information rarely stayed contained within the Sullivan circle, especially when something as serious as this was unfolding. One conversation turned into another, one message passed quietly to the next, until the entire network of relatives—close and distant alike—became aware of what was happening.And one by one, others joined him.Uncles.Cousins.In-laws.Men who had long watched Logan from a distance—some with suspicion, others with quiet resentment that had never quite found a reason to surface.Now, all of them had a reason.“He has gone too far this time.”That sentence echoed repeatedly as they gathered, spoken in low tones, repeated with growing certainty, until it became less of a statement and more of a shared conclusion.Victor stood at the center of it, composed as always—but there were sharper edges to him now.More defined.More deliberate.“We move with informat

The night stretched longer than any of them expected, as though time itself had decided to slow down and press heavily against those who stood waiting outside the mansion gates.At first, the Sullivan family members who had chosen to remain outside the mansion stood with confidence, their postures firm and their presence arranged like a line of certainty. The air around them still carried the heat of their anger, and none of it had faded in the hours since they arrived. If anything, it had hardened, becoming sharper, more focused, as though patience itself was simply another tool they intended to use.They believed it was only a matter of time.“He has to come out,” one of them said, folding his arms tightly across his chest as he stared toward the tall gates.Jolene stood slightly ahead of the rest, her silhouette faintly outlined by the exterior lights of the compound. Her gaze remained fixed on the gate as though she could will it open through sheer determination, as though her eyes

The city did not sleep that night.After the news broadcast about unidentified forces threatening national stability, fear spread quietly but deeply into households across every district. It wasn’t loud or chaotic at first, but it settled in like something unavoidable, moving from room to room through conversations, screens, and silent thoughts people tried not to voice out loud. It wasn’t the first time the country had faced such warnings—people remembered the previous incidents too well.Buildings reduced to rubble.Entire streets abandoned.Families displaced overnight.And in some places, never rebuilt.Those memories resurfaced easily, carried by older broadcasts and personal experiences that never fully faded. So when the announcement came that the government would be addressing the crisis again, people listened with a mixture of hope and dread.Hope that something had changed.Dread that nothing had.By morning, another update followed.A national broadcast.A formal tone.A st

That evening, Charlotte stood by the window, her arms folded tightly across her chest.The room was quiet.Too quiet.The kind of silence that didn’t bring peace—but instead pressed down on everything, making every thought louder than it should be. The faint glow of the evening light filtered through the glass, stretching long shadows across the floor.Behind her, Logan entered slowly.He had just returned from the official introduction, and for the first time that day, he was no longer standing before cameras or officials. No formal tone. No measured statements. No controlled presence for the public eye.He was home.But something in the room told him that this moment would not be simple.“Charlotte…” he called softly.She didn’t turn immediately.Instead, she stared out through the window for a few seconds more, as though she needed that extra moment to steady herself. As though whatever she was about to say required control she wasn’t entirely sure she had.Then she finally spoke.

Charlotte did not rush her response.She allowed the silence to sit for a moment, steady and controlled, as though she were carefully placing each word before letting it go. She had listened to every word spoken, watched every subtle shift in expression, and understood exactly what the Sullivan family wanted—even before they gathered the courage to say it aloud. Their intentions were not hidden. They lingered in their tone, in the way they leaned forward, in the expectation behind their eyes.So when Jolene finally spoke and asked to see Logan, Charlotte simply sighed, soft and measured, and shook her head.“I’m sorry,” she said calmly, her voice even and composed, “but Logan isn’t accessible right now.”The words were not sharp. They were not dismissive. But they carried weight far beyond their softness.A brief pause followed, as if the room itself needed a moment to process what had just been said.“What do you mean?” one of them asked quickly, unable to hide the edge in his voice.