“Rico is our blood,” Helena said, her voice steady but carrying a tension that betrayed the storm within. She leaned slightly forward, hands clasped in front of her as though holding herself together. “We don’t want him dead. We just want to know what he’s up to—and we want it handled discreetly.”Zaza, sitting across from her in the dimly lit room, didn’t move. The air between them felt thick, almost tangible, as though the shadows themselves were waiting to see what she would say next. His eyes were sharp, dark, assessing, and Helena felt the weight of them on her chest like an invisible hand pressing down.“Is that all?” His voice was low, almost a growl, but calm enough that it sent a shiver down her spine. He didn’t lean forward. He didn’t need to. His mere presence was enough to make her heart race.“Yes,” she said, keeping her tone unwavering despite the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks, not from fear, exactly, but from the know

Damian and Helena arrived at the house just as the car rolled into the driveway, its engine cutting off into a heavy, almost suffocating silence. The evening air felt dense, charged with a tension neither of them could fully shake. Damian’s jaw was tight, the veins along his temple standing out as if his body itself were resisting the calm of the moment. He opened the car door forcefully, the metal shrieking softly in protest. “I hope this sick plan of yours works,” he muttered under his breath, his voice edged with anger. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, and the low hum of his frustration vibrated in the quiet. He stepped out, the gravel crunching sharply under his polished shoes, each sound seeming louder than normal, as if the house itself were listening. Helena didn’t answer him. She turned off the ignition and slid out of the car, her movements precise, controlled, but there was a flicker of unease behind her composed exterior. Her heels clicked sharply o

Melinda lifted the glass of water to her lips, letting the cool liquid slide down her throat. It did nothing to calm the racing of her heart. Her hands shook slightly, betraying the calm she tried to project. Across from her, Rico sat with his arms folded, his posture tense, but his eyes were locked on her, calm yet unreadable. It was as if he were waiting for her to reveal not just her words, but the truth buried beneath them. “Tell me what I need to know,” Rico said finally, his voice even but firm. Each word carried an edge of demand, the kind that made her stomach twist. She set the glass down carefully, lingering for a moment, as though it were a lifeline. “Patience, Rico,” she said softly. “I want something first.” He lifted a brow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course you do. You always want something. What is it this time?” Her chest tightened. She swallowed, trying to steady her voice. “You,” she said, and this time her w

As Damian stood there, flanked by Helena and Sonia, his phone vibrated sharply against his palm. He almost dropped it, startled by the sudden interruption. The caller ID flashed “St. Mercy Hospital,” and for a moment, his heart leapt—and then froze. He answered on the second ring, trying to steady his breathing. “Hello?” His voice was tight, controlled, though a tremor betrayed him. “Mr. Damian?” The voice on the other end was calm, professional, but there was an edge of urgency beneath it. “This is Nurse Aloma from St. Mercy Hospital. I’m calling regarding Eliron.” Damian’s chest tightened. His eyes flicked to Helena and Sonia, who had grown suddenly alert, sensing the gravity of the call. Sonia’s hand instinctively moved to her chest as if bracing herself. “What about him?” Damian asked, trying to keep his voice even, but it came out harsher than he intended. “He’s awake,” the nurse said, pausing briefly, as if measuring the impact of her words. “He… he’s awake and ask

Damian and Helena arrived at the hospital with their daughter, their hearts hammering in unison, a chaotic rhythm of fear, hope, and desperation. Each step toward Eliron’s room felt impossibly heavy, as if the sterile white floors themselves were resisting their movement. Helena’s grip on Sonia’s hand was so tight that the little girl’s knuckles turned pale, yet neither released the other. Damian’s eyes remained locked on the closed door ahead, chest tightening with a nervous ache he could not shake. Just as they approached the nurses’ station, Rico informant dialled Rico phone. He went to the corner to give him the information about what was going on.His voice had a taut edge, the urgency practically leaping through the line. “Hello, young master,” the informant said, his tone brittle with tension. “Eliron is awake, and Damian is here with his family.” Rico's chest constricted painfully. “When?” His voice sounded far too controlled, but the tremor in his fingers betrayed the