2025-10-30 18:58:42
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099. A Crack In Loyalty?
The heavy rain had not stopped since dawn, beating against the windows of Phoenix Corp’s headquarters as though the sky itself conspired to unsettle the city. But inside, Niccolo’s empire moved with cold precision. Staff hurried through corridors, heads bowed, careful not to draw attention. The shadow of his last press conference still lingered. Everyone knew by now— working under Niccolo meant absolute discipline.And yet, in another corner of the city, three of his enemies sat together plotting once again.Maurice DeLange leaned back in his leather chair, swirling his glass of wine. “The boy is untouchable,” he muttered, voice low and bitter. “No matter what we throw at him, he comes out looking like a savior.”Veronica Steele exhaled sharply, her polished nails tapping against the table. “Pulling out our investments didn’t cripple him. It made him stronger. The public sees him as fearless. Stocks are higher than ever.”Lorenzo Vega, the most restless of the three, stood by the wind
098. The Lunch Meeting
Three days after Ariana’s video had gone viral, the world refused to move on. Every news outlet, gossip site, and political commentator had something to say about the mayor’s daughter and her bold defense of a man everyone now called “the face of corruption.”Her video had been meant as a plea— a heartfelt message from a daughter who refused to believe her father capable of such evil. But to the public, it was a confession in disguise. People twisted her words, pulling phrases out of context, spinning them into narratives that served their anger.“She knew all along,” one comment said.“She’s just as guilty as her father,” said another.The harshest ones cut deeper than she could ever admit:> ‘She’s not worthy of Niccolo.’‘He should break off the engagement before she ruins his career too.’The insults flooded every platform she used. Even when she logged out, they haunted her.Ariana sat on her bed that evening, her phone still lighting up with notifications, her eyes swollen from
097. Torment
Ariana sat before the camera, her eyes red and puffy from crying. The curtains behind her were drawn, casting a soft light over her pale face. She pressed record and took a deep breath.“I know what everyone’s saying about my father,” she began, her voice trembling slightly. “But I need you all to listen —he’s not the man the media is painting him to be. Someone set him up. I don’t know who, but I know my father. He’s made mistakes, yes, but he’s not a criminal.”She swallowed hard and wiped her tears. “He’s not perfect, but he worked hard for this city. He didn’t deserve this humiliation.”When she stopped recording, her hands were shaking. She uploaded the video to her social media accounts and pressed post. Within minutes, comments began to flood in.At first, some were sympathetic—_ “Stay strong, Ariana.”_“You’re doing the right thing by defending your father.”But the tone quickly changed._ “So now you’re saying Niccolo framed your father? Unbelievable.”_“You’re as fake as yo
096. The Trial Of The Mayor
The courthouse was packed to capacity. Cameras flashed from every direction, microphones extended like spears, and the murmurs of the restless crowd echoed through the marble hall. Reporters from every major news outlet had gathered to witness what was being called “The Trial of the Century.”For years, the Mayor had been the face of the city— charming, eloquent, and seemingly incorruptible. His posters still hung on some streets, fading reminders of a man who once promised reform and honesty. Now, he sat in the defendant’s chair, dressed in an immaculate gray suit, his expression stiff and unreadable. His once- confident posture had been replaced by a quiet tension that betrayed the storm raging inside him.Across the aisle sat Niccolo. Calm. Unflinching. Dressed in a black suit, he appeared almost untouchable —his presence commanding the room even before he spoke. He didn’t look at the mayor, not once. His focus was on the documents in front of him —the evidence that would decide th
095. Court Summons
The silence in the living room was only broken by the soft ticking of the clock and the hesitant clink of teacups. Niccolo stood by the doorway, his face unreadable, his eyes scanning the room. Ariana sat beside her mother on the cream-colored sofa, watching him with wide eyes. Her father, the mayor, sat across from them, stiff and alert, his jaw clenched.No one knew why Niccolo had called this meeting, but the air was heavy with anticipation.Ariana was the first to speak.“Niccolo… What's this about?” She was surprised because he didn't even call ahead, he just showed up… and that was unusual. He looked at her — beautiful, kind, trusting. And yet, his truth would break something in her.“I needed to say this face-to-face,” he began, voice low but firm. “From the very start… I was never in love with you.”Ariana blinked. Her lips parted, stunned.“I said yes to being your boyfriend because… I was grateful. Even though I saved your life, you were under no obligation to help me… but
094. New Evidence
The knock at the door came sharp and deliberate, not hesitant, not rushed. Just enough weight to show confidence. Niccolo looked up from the file on his desk, the mayor’s face smirking up at him from a photo stapled to the front page. He closed the folder and straightened his jacket.“Come in.”The door creaked open, revealing a tall, sharp featured man in his late fifties. Dressed in a crisp navy suit with a gold tie pin, he looked like he belonged in a courtroom or on the front page of a campaign donor list. His eyes were cold, calculating. It swept the room before settling on Niccolo.“Mr Morrandi,” the man greeted. “When you asked to meet up, I was very confused... since we have no reason to see each other .”Niccolo stood and offered a hand he had no interest in shaking. “Oh don't be like that, I thought we were already acquainted. Although you're right, we don't have any personal business to discuss.”Casella gave a polite smile, though his eyes didn’t move. “And yet you called
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