The night carried a silence too heavy to be natural.Caleb sat alone in the study, shadows crawling across the floor from the dying fire. He hadn’t spoken since the police had left, since Mr. Richard’s trembling voice had broken the air with those words he still couldn’t accept:“Burnt… beyond recognition.”The phrase clung to him like ash.He stared at the untouched glass of water on the table, Diana hovering near the door, torn between giving him space and collapsing into his arms. The twins were asleep upstairs—mercifully shielded from the grief crushing the household.Then came the knock. Sharp. Insistent.It was Mr. Loo. He bowed stiffly, his usually composed face pale. “Sir… it’s everywhere.”Caleb’s brows furrowed. “What’s everywhere?”Without answering, Mr. Loo placed a tablet in his hands. The screen lit up with a Breaking News banner in bold red.[Breaking News Report]"Four bodies were discovered in the wreckage of a luxury car, burnt beyond recognition. Authorities have co

The storm that had rolled across the city the night before left the morning heavy with mist. The Callahan estate was quiet, unnaturally so, as if the world itself had chosen silence for the day. Black flags fluttered weakly against the stone gates, and the long driveway was lined with cars—sleek, expensive machines that carried the weight of power and ambition in their polished frames. The funeral had arrived. Caleb stood before the mirror in his room, straightening the black tie that felt like a noose around his neck. His reflection looked older than the man who had laughed with his children only weeks ago. His hair, darker now, seemed to cling to the weight of grief, and his eyes… his eyes had become the eyes of a man who had lost more than most men could endure. Behind him, Diana entered softly, adjusting the veil over her face. She paused, watching him with quiet worry. “You don’t have to carry it all alone,” she said gently. Caleb didn’t look at her. His hands clenched the ed

The Callahan estate had never felt so heavy. Black banners draped from the iron gates, roses wilting in the vases as if the grief of the house had poisoned even the flowers. Car after car rolled into the courtyard, polished, silent, carrying men and women cloaked in mourning, though their eyes burned with more than sorrow.Inside, the great hall had been transformed into a chamber of remembrance. Candles lined the aisles, tall ivory sentinels flickering against portraits of the fallen. Mr. Callahan’s portrait stood in the center—stern eyes, proud posture, a man whose shadow stretched over everything even in death. Beside it were smaller frames of Daphne, Darius, and KJ. Their smiles were frozen, their futures stolen, and every flame seemed to bow toward them in mourning.Caleb stood at the front, dressed in a black tailored suit that fit his frame but could not conceal the weight pressing on his shoulders. His jaw was tight, his eyes bloodshot from sleepless nights. Diana sat close, h

The Callahan council chamber had never felt colder. Once, it had been the heart of empire—mahogany walls, gilded portraits, chandeliers burning like captured stars. Now, beneath their glow, the air was tight with suspicion, every man seated at the long oak table glancing at another as though measuring how deep their knives could sink.Caleb sat at the head, his jaw set, his knuckles pressed white against the carved armrest. He had barely buried his father, and already the whispers of succession slithered across polished floors.Mr. Richard stood behind him, stiff as stone. Diana sat quietly near the far wall, Jasper beside her, a silent witness to a world too dangerous for his young eyes. Mr. Loo, as always, was nearby—calm, unreadable, and carrying a secret in his pocket.“Gentlemen,” Caleb began, his deep voice steady, though his heart raged like fire, “we are gathered not only to honor my father’s legacy, but to ensure the dynasty he built does not collapse into the hands of vultur

The night was still. Too still.Caleb stood by the window of his chambers, staring at the city lights below. The Callahan mansion, perched high like a crown above the skyline, gleamed under the moonlight. Yet unease crawled in his chest, an instinct honed not by privilege but by the battles he’d fought to earn respect.Behind him, Diana slept lightly, Jasper curled against her. The silence should have been comforting. Instead, it felt like a warning.Then it came.The first explosion ripped through the gates, shaking the mansion’s foundations. Glass shattered. Alarms screamed. Screams followed—the guards outside, cut down before they could rally.Caleb was already moving. He snatched the pistol from the bedside drawer, his body taut with fury. Diana jolted awake, Jasper crying in her arms.“Take him,” Caleb ordered, his voice hard. “Stay in the west wing. Do not open the door for anyone but me.”Diana nodded, fear in her eyes but steel in her voice. “Don’t you dare fall, Caleb.”He pr