" Can't believe what the country is turning into. How can a whole country president be found guilty of money laundering. What happened to the people's trust???" Two strangers said, clutching onto a newspaper as they walked past Cassian." Lol. You find that shocking. Wait till you read this. A company CEO has recently been jailed for the murder of his father over inheritance rights. How ridiculous! " the other said showing his newspaper.Cassian Markavelli watched them walk off. He had just finished begging for alms on the street corner, the usual spot he’d taken to begging for the past two years. His hands were shaking, still holding the meager coins he had been gifted, but there was a slight smile at the side of his lips. Today had been better than most other days, the sun had been kind, the people a little less heartless and he’d made more coins today than the last three days combined which in reality simply meant he got pitied more.He had a stuttering disorder that impaired h

Soon, he stood before a huge mansion, his mouth slightly open as he tilted his head back to take it all in.The mansion before him was huge and beautiful.It had towering white pillars, glass windows that seems to mirror the dark sky and a wide, neatly trimmed lawn.He looked down at the weathered card in his hand to be sure the address matched. And it did.His heart thumped hard as he approached the massive iron gate and gave it a gentle knock. For a moment, there was silence. Then the gate creaked and opened slightly, revealing a tall, broad-shouldered man in a uniform. The guard’s eyes were sharp and his frown came quickly.“What do you want?” the man asked.Cassian opened his mouth, but the words tangled.“I… I-I… Ver-ver… Veroni—”The man scowled, already impatient. “Are you here to beg?”Cassian flinched at the word.He quickly shook his head and showed the guard the card “V-Veronica… a-a-asked me… to c-come.”The guard’s eyes dropped to the card and his face softened. He pau

To when it all began. FOUR YEARS AGO. AT SKYLINE HOTELS AND SUITES. Cassian sat with his parents around a VIP table having breakfast that morning. His mother's brother, Drako was present with his wife, Myla. They were discussing something important but Cassian seems so focused on his food. “Cassandra, think about this carefully,” Myla said, folding her hands elegantly. “Merzari Holdings is offering us a doorway to global expansion. This deal could create bridges for better opportunities. Why don't you just partner with them?” Cassandra, Cassian's mother shook her head in disagreement while tapping her fingers lightly on her teacup. Drako leaned forward. " Myla is right, this is one in a million opportunity. This could clear your unresolved debts and you could even create new revenue with this partnership. Look at this from a bright side" Drako said, leaning back in his seat with a smile as if he already knew how everything would end. Cassian continued eating, payin

Cassian jolted upright from the dream, breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded violently in his chest as his eyes darted around the hospital room, trying to make sense of reality.The same dream again.The fire.His mother’s screams.Drako's shadowed and calm face as he lit the lighter.It never changed.The nightmare always ended the same way.He sat well on the bed and coughed hard as he felt something heavy inside his throat.His mother's screams continued to vibrate silently at the back of his head.He wiped his tears and looked around.But this time, when Cassian looked around, something was different.He wasn’t alone.Seated by the window, polished shoes crossed neatly at the ankle, was the last person he ever wanted to see.Drako.Beside him stood his wife, Myla. Her coat was neatly folded over her arm, and her perfume lingered faintly in the air. A group of medical staff stood near the bed, murmuring quietly to each other. Cassian’s breath hitched. His eyes locked ont

Cassian sat motionless, in the front seat of the cathedral, expressionless, watching the ongoing procession. To everyone, it was a memorial. To him, it was a haunting reminder of his trauma. The soft hum of organ music floated through the grand hall, echoing beneath the stained-glass ceiling of the old cathedral. Sunlight filtered in muted tones of gold and orange, casting long shadows across the congregation. At the front, a massive portrait of Clarence Markavelli and his late wife stood beside twin caskets draped in royal blue and silver, the colors of the Markavelli Group crest. A thousand white lilies surrounded them as if to compensate for the damage the accident caused. People went to the altar to pay their homage, bowing respectfully to the caskets before walking away. The line moved slowly, like a procession of ghosts with eyes heavy with emotion or curiosity, no one could really tell.As the people paid their homage, and the pastor prayed silently at the altar, quiet mur