2026-07-27 23:07:21
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Dinner with Bruce
Later that evening, Harold Robinson entered the hotel where Bruce was staying for their dinner meeting. He had spent the whole day making calls and calling in favors, searching for a way to escape the trap that had closed around him. But still, nothing had worked. Every door he knocked on was slammed shut in his face. Even the president wouldn't pick his calls. It felt like some unknown force was working against him. As he stepped into the hotel lobby, a young woman in a crisp uniform came up to him. "Mr. Robinson? We've been expecting you. Please, follow me."She led him through the lobby, past curious glances and whispered murmurs, to a private dining room at the back of the hotel. The room was elegant and intimate, with a single table draped in white linen and lit by a single candle. The walls were covered in dark wood paneling, and a large window offered a view of the city lights.Harold sat down heavily in one of the chairs. He didn't order anything, not even water. He simply
Lawsuits part 2
The hospital corridor felt sterile and cold, the fluorescent lights humming above as Harold Robinson paced back and forth like a caged animal. He held the phone to his ear, his voice sharp as a two edge sword. "I don't care what it takes," he snarled. "File the lawsuit. Assault, breaking and entering, attempted murder—I want that bastard buried under so many charges he'll never see the light of day again!" He hung up and immediately dialed another number. "Hello? Yes, this is Harold Robinson speaking. I need a favor. I want the case against Bruce Smith to be fast-tracked. No excuses." Just then, the family doctor stepped out of the surgical ward. Harold straightened up, his anger quickly giving way to concern. "How is he?" he demanded. "Is my son going to be alright?" The doctor nodded grimly. "He'll recover. However, the damage was severe. His jaw was broken in three places. He lost several teeth. He has severe injury to his face and ribs. He'll need reconstructive surgery an
lawsuits
Bruce's car rolled up to the hotel entrance, tires softly hissing on the wet pavement. With his arm steady around her waist, Bruce helped Caro as she leaned into him. Her body shook, still trembling from what she'd been through, her face buried against his shoulder.He led her through the lobby, past the night clerk who wisely said nothing, and into the elevator. They rode in silence to the top floor, where Bruce had reserved an entire suite for his stay.The room was spacious and warm, with soft lighting and a large bed covered in crisp white linens. Bruce led Caro to the bed and helped her sit down."Stay here," he instructed. "I'm calling a doctor."Caro nodded weakly, her eyes fixed on the floor.Bruce pulled out his phone and made a call. Within fifteen minutes, a discreet doctor appeared at the door, carrying a bag. He was a middle-aged man with kind eyes and a calm demeanor, the kind of doctor who had seen too much and learned not to ask questions.He examined Caro gently, cl
The monster in the mansion
Jake jumped back, his belt falling from his hand as if it had suddenly turned into a snake. His eyes widened with shock as he gaped at Bruce. "How the hell did you get in here?!"Bruce didn't answer. His gaze was fixed on the welts crisscrossing Caro's arms, on the black and blue bruises already forming around her eyes, and the tears streaming down her face. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with terror.Looking at his ex-wife at this state, something inside Bruce snapped. Anger he never knew he had surged inside him like a violent storm. He turned to Jake, his voice shaking with rage. "You bastard. How dare you beat her?"Jake recovered quickly, his shock giving way to rage. He stepped forward, his chest puffed out and his fists clenched at his sides. "This is none of your business! She's my wife! I can do whatever I want with her! Now get the hell out of my house before I call the police!"Bruce neither moved nor flinched. He walked toward Jake, his footsteps slow and his e
Help
Bruce's private jet sat on the tarmac, its smooth white fuselage shining brightly beneath the runway lights as he drew near. The engines hummed softly, ready for takeoff. A stewardess stood at the bottom of the stairs, her smile polished and professional."Welcome aboard, Mr. Shepherd. We're ready for departure."Bruce nodded absentmindedly, his hand resting on the railing. He set one foot on the first step, then paused.Something felt off. A cold, creeping dread that settled in his chest and refused to let go. There was no logical explanation for it, but the ring on his finger pulsed warmly against his skin, as if trying to tell him something. He turned and looked back at the city lights in the distance. Caro was out there. And something was terribly wrong."Mr. Shepherd?" the stewardess asked, her smile fading. "Is everything alright?"Bruce didn't answer. He stood frozen on the steps, his mind racing. He remembered the hatred in Jake's eyes at the courthouse, how swiftly he for
Trapped
Bruce leaned against his car, feeling the cool metal against his back as he gazed up at the towering walls of the Robinson mansion. Half an hour earlier, he had driven Caro home to reconcile with her husband. Just as he waited for her to return, his phone buzzed in his hand. He glanced at the screen; it was Caro. He answered. "So, how did it go?" Bruce inquired. "Did he ask for a divorce?" "It's alright," Caro said, her voice relieved. "Everything is fine with my husband. He forgave me." Bruce's brow tightened. He had driven Caro here himself, expecting her to return with divorce papers in hand. Both expected Jake's refusal to forgive her court betrayal. Bruce had been ready to fund her new life and to protect her if Jake discarded her. But forgiveness? That was unexpected. "I don't know," Bruce said slowly. "This feels off. Don't you think it's odd he's forgiving you so easily?" "It doesn't matter," Caro replied. "As long as I have my husband back. It's better than being
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