Jael's eyes snapped open.For a moment, everything felt strange.He was alive. Somehow, against all odds, he was still alive.He had just been hit by a speeding bus. A brutal, violent crash that should have ended him right there on the cold street.But now, there was no pain.No screaming agony in his bones. No burning wounds. No broken limbs.That was impossible.Maybe he was in a hospital. Maybe he had been knocked out cold and was now under heavy anesthesia.But the strange thing was, Jael didn’t feel numb. He didn’t feel like his body was shutting down.Instead, he felt fresh. Alive. Like he had just woken up from a long, deep sleep and stretched his arms for the first time in years.He slowly opened his eyes wider, blinking against the soft light.Around him, everything was quiet. No ambulance sirens blared in the distance. No cold pavement pressed against his skin.Instead, he was lying on a bed.His bed.Or at least it looked like it.But it wasn’t the bed from the penthouse. I

Jael Frost stared at the phone like it was something poisonous. His hand hovered near it but didn’t touch it. The screen buzzed and lit up with her name again: Kira Ryder. The sound of the ringtone filled the room, but his ears were ringing for a different reason. His pulse pounded hard in his neck, in his wrists, even behind his eyes.The last time he’d seen her, she was walking away with Paul Wilson. Her smile that day had been soft, but it burned like acid in his memories. Now she was calling him? Like nothing had ever happened? Like they hadn’t torn him apart?The phone buzzed a second time. Jael flinched. It was strange, like the vibration shook the whole room.He swallowed thickly, jaw clenched. His fingers grabbed the phone faster than he expected. A mix of anger and dread burned in his chest as he pressed the button to answer.“Hello?” he said. His voice came out sharp and dry.“Hey, you.” Her voice was smooth. Warm. Almost sweet enough to make his stomach turn. Jael sat stiff

Jael rolled into the underground parking lot of Ryder Financial Corp, the wheels of his bike screeching against concrete as the sound echoed through the cavernous space. His chest rose and fell as he removed his helmet and looked up.There it was.Again.Ten years younger, yet unchanged.The company emblem rested proudly on the polished stone wall—a minimalist merge of the letters R and F. Not creative. Just expensive. Cold.Jael climbed off his bike and secured his helmet in the rear compartment. He brushed down the sleeves of his faded blazer. His fingers paused at the frayed cuff. It was the same jacket from before, still carrying the weight of struggle.He didn’t rush inside. He stood there, letting the memories wash over him.In his previous life, by the time of his death, Ryder Financial had rebranded everything. The logo had become a silver phoenix tearing through a digital sigil. The tower itself had been rebuilt—taller, sharper, wrapped in glass and sensors, voice-activated d

The air inside Caden Ryder’s spacious office felt thick, charged, like the breathless pause before a storm broke. Jael Frost sat across from him, the two men locked in a silent contest of will. It felt like a fight had already begun—no fists, no weapons—just sharp eyes and unspoken challenge.Jael could feel Caden’s gaze pressing down on him, heavy and deliberate. It was the kind of stare meant to crush confidence, to remind people of their place. But Jael didn’t shrink.He sat straight, shoulders relaxed, hands tucked calmly into his jacket pockets. His face was unreadable. He was no longer the anxious graduate who bowed his head and swallowed humiliation. That version of him was gone.Between them, on the polished mahogany desk, lay the resignation letter.Still. Untouched. Almost mocking.Jael had expected an outburst—anger, shouting, maybe even threats. Instead, silence stretched between them, long and uncomfortable. Caden Ryder was clearly more shocked than furious.Interns didn’

Jael Frost parked his battered old bicycle a full block away from Crane Street. The familiar creak of the bike’s frame echoed in the quiet air as he locked the briefcase tightly to the seat. His eyes swept the street with a cautious sharpness, trying to drink in every detail around him.This part of the city was nothing like the busy, shining downtown where glass towers caught the sunlight. Here, the street was quieter. Too quiet. The flickering streetlights sputtered on and off like tired candles about to die. The storefronts were boarded up with splintered wood nailed crookedly over glass that had long since shattered. The air felt thick and heavy, almost like it was soaked in fear and desperation.Jael shivered a little, not just from the cold but from the heaviness that pressed down on his chest. This was the kind of place people avoided at all costs. Not just because crime thrived here, but because it sucked the hope right out of the air, like a black hole of lost dreams and brok