The perfect Saturday evening. Kage was shirtless in sweatpants, working out in his mansion gym. Deep breath , Beads of sweat and a goal. Fitness matters. He had just finished a set on the leg press machine and eased down onto the nearby bench, muscles aching but steady breaths calm. His gaze settled on the glass of kale juice Roseanne had made for him. The green liquid sat there, thick; unappealin and staring at him like an unwelcomd nemesis. He dreaded it but knew Roseanne only meant well. She surely does. It was his day off. Yet as a general surgeon, Kage knew the hospital could call at any moment if an emergency came up. Not like he wouldn't pass the case to the next available qualified doctor. He had so much to manage, his life and companies included. The morning had been a blend of food and exercise; now, past midday, he was still here, reluctant but disciplined. Not like it was effective but Roseanne wouldn't let him slack and he loved that. She was the only perso

The rise of sweet Autumn. Sweet October. Her mid length hair neatly combed. Her pearl earrings giving her the confident she always wanted. She missed fixing her nails, but there was nothing she could do. As Clara strolled toward her office, her gaze landed on Kage. Down the hall he was seated on his wheelchair; not like she expected him to be off it. His expression was unreadable, a perfect poker face as he sat chatting with Doctor Salomé. Clara’s eyes narrowed, anger flaring inside her. She blinked, doubting herself for a moment — but no, it was definitely Kage. The fact that he was talking to Salomé, who she always loathed, only made her blood boil more."Stupid Bitch!" Clara said In a low, bitter whisper before turning sharply and heading to her office. •Ping. Trying to settle her thoughts, Clara checked her phone and smiled faintly as she saw her salary had been paid. "Oh Clara, you are a wicked genius" She praised herself " Good hard work" she added.

Sun setting. It was nearing evening when they finally arrived at Kage’s mansion. The sprawling estate sat still, It's garden, perfect as always. A shimmering pool stretched invitingly beside the main building, its surface mirroring the soft hues of the sinking sun. Kage glanced toward the water and briefly thought about taking a swim later—something to clear his mind after the day’s tense encounters."Later" he thought. Despite the quiet hum of activity, a single misplaced leaf on the meticulously raked gravel path stood out like a sore thumb. It could even be spotted from space. Anything but perfection. Workers dressed in matching black uniforms moved in practiced harmony: some tending the flowers–no wonder the garden was always perfect, others trimming hedges or sweeping stone pathways. The uniform black outfits made them almost indistinguishable at a glance. It was a perfect choice to make Roseanne and John in charge of the workers. John dropped Kage an

"Urgh. My head" Clara woke slowly, the dim morning light ray through the curtains of the condo. The space was plain as always, a little bit dusty since Kage left. He never told the cleaning but he always got the place spotless. As her eyes adjusted, she caught a glimpse of another reflection in the window pane beside her. She lived alone , she should be alone. Next to her lay an empty glass and an almost empty bottle of wine—the remnants of last night’s attempt to relax from the dreadful day. Cautiously, her hand instinctively reached for the bottle, ready to defend herself. But when she turned, she found Matt quietly eating at the kitchen table. The sight calmed her.“My goodness! You scared me! What are you doing here?” she asked, wary. Matt’s tone held an edge. “Where were you last night?” Clara hesitated, thoughts pouring, filtering memories. She remembered coming home exhausted, pouring wine to ease the tension, and eventually falling asleep on the couch. Her g

One thing Kage was so grateful for was that bo one died. The shooter was said to be going through depression after losing his family to an accident three months ago. Depression could be a bitch. The trauma patient had survived the harrowing ordeal, but was now tethered to machines in the ICU—his body still fragile, recovering from the iron rod that had pierced his abdomen. He wasn't a John Doe. After speaking briefly with him and ID from his things, Kage’s team managed to contact the patient’s wife, who was said to be rushing to the hospital. He would have someone to stay with him as he fought through. After the long day, Kage finally escaped the confines of the hospital for his Mansion. Although he washed up at the hospital, he needed to be thorough. He stepped into the shower, needing more than a simple wash. As warm water surge over him, he scrubbed away the stubborn stains of blood and exhaustion clinging to his skin. Yet beneath the cleansing ritual surfac