There was no response, so he pressed the doorbell again. DING-DONG! DING-DONG!! Still, there was no response. The night had already begun creeping in as he watched the screen of the Motorola phone, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. He exhaled quietly and then— KNOCK! KNOCK!! Still no answer. He lifted his head toward the upper floor of the brownstone, where a faint, flickering light pulsed behind the curtains. Several other windows glimmered faintly too, but the entire house remained silent. Then he marched to the smaller door at the side of the building and tried again. KNOCK! KNOCK!! This time he struck the door thunderously, yet still nobody answered. His instincts tightened inside him, telling him Carolina was somewhere inside. He turned to his mother and muttered under his breath. “I’m very sure she’s inside.” His mom eyed the windows, noticing the flashing lights. She then looked back at him. “Yeah, she’s inside. This is not even guessing.” Lewis glance

Carolina calmly turned in his direction, the same deep frown still written all over her face. Lewis took a slow step closer, stopping just a few feet from her, his expression calm but stern. “Can I have the key?” She inhaled sharply, anger flashing through her eyes as she shoved her hand into her designer Gucci handbag. The faint clink of metal echoed as she pulled out the golden keys of the luxurious Brownstone mansion. Without uttering a single word, she placed them in his hand with a stiff, resentful gesture. She turned abruptly, her heels clicking hard against the pavement as she marched toward her Ford Gladiator. She yanked the door open, slid inside, and then— BEEP! BEEP!! Her grip tightened around the steering wheel. She hovered over the steering and drove off into the distance, the roaring engine fading as she disappeared down the street. Lewis watched silently for a moment before turning away. His mother stood beside him, and together they moved majestically tow

Mr. Redmond grabbed the Pixel phone and leaned back, watching the footage play, blue light reflecting off his glasses. He observed Nolan and Vince Gordon methodically packing enormous stacks of cash into two suitcases inside a dimly lit storeroom. Their laughter echoed faintly in the recording, almost surreal, contrasting sharply with the sheer magnitude of their crime. Rubbing the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger, his glasses sliding down slightly, he exhaled deeply. “There was a time when this news circulated this county,” he muttered, voice low, almost to himself, “but I didn’t give it the attention it deserved. I assumed, foolishly, that it was another story, blown out of proportion.” He paused, eyes narrowing at the screen. The camera captured every movement, every meticulous detail, making it impossible to dismiss. “And now… I see the truth.” He leaned forward abruptly, the chair creaking, and stared at Lewis and his mother, seeking reactions, needing to ga

Which was a tertiary institution bearing his uncle’s name, he turned to his mom, pointed outside the Maybach in disbelief. “What am I seeing? Samuel Gordon University!” His mom followed his gaze through the windshield, her eyes widening as the massive, imposing university filled her vision. Both of them froze, stunned beyond words. She slowly wiped her eyes, blinking repeatedly, yet the boldly written name remained right there in front of the school. Lewis stared in utter disbelief at the investment owned by Samuel, knowing deep down that it was built with his late father’s money. The realization weighed heavily on him, stirring anger and confusion. He needed clarification. Shaking his head, he muttered, “So he’s been using more of Dad’s money for investments. That means there are other ones we don’t even know about.” He watched numerous students walking freely across the premises, backpacks slung over their shoulders, groups chatting and laughing. His voice lowered as anothe

Lewis noticed immediately and, without turning his head from the road, spoke calmly. “Mom, please hold on. Let’s reach home first. It’s evening, and I need to stay focused to avoid an accident. Traffic around here is usually crazy at this time.” His mother did as he asked, knowing deep down that he was right. Traffic in Brooklyn was something else entirely—one of the most populated parts of New York State. Lewis kept driving as the road bustled with cars, Ubers weaving between lanes, horns blaring, brake lights glowing red, and streetlights flickering to life. Engines hummed, tires hissed against asphalt, and voices floated in from passing vehicles. Suddenly, the traffic light ahead turned red, forcing everything to a halt. At that moment, the Motorola phone vibrated inside Lewis’s pocket. BEEP! BEEP!! He didn’t bother checking who was calling. His mother glanced at him, curiosity edging into concern, and remarked softly. “The phone is ringing.” Lewis didn’t hear h