2025-12-10 14:15:52Nathan stepped away from the dining room, still holding the repaired phone Aurora returned earlier. The sound of her fork tapping the plate echoed faintly behind him, but he forced himself to ignore the gentle glances she kept throwing his way. Her attention distracted him far too easily these days, which felt strange for someone who had lived through eight long years of marital indifference.
The device vibrated again.
Amy Hart appeared once more on the small, revived screen.
Nathan frowned. He opened the call log and nearly dropped the phone. Dozens of missed calls filled the list—every one of them from Amy. She had been dialing repeatedly, minute after minute, without stopping.
Before he could overthink, he accepted the call.
A trembling sigh washed through the speaker. “Nathan! Finally! I've been calling forever! I was scared something happened!”
Her frantic relief was almost overwhelming.
“Amy? What’s wrong?” Nathan asked gently. “Why did you call so many times?”
“Because nothing made sense!” she answered instantly. “I heard from the maids that you left. Then I heard the divorce rumor. Then I heard Celine refused to explain anything. I thought you vanished altogether.”
Nathan leaned against the kitchen counter, lowering his voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you sooner. Things happened very quickly.”
Amy inhaled shakily. “I can’t believe she did that to you. I can’t believe she pushed out the most dependable person in that entire house. Everything feels lifeless now. You were the only thing keeping that place warm.”
Nathan sighed. “Celine made her decision. I simply respected it. Lyra seems more comfortable with Tristan anyway.”
A harsh gasp erupted through the phone. “Don’t say that! Absolutely not! That child wouldn’t know comfort if it smacked her. She acted spoiled because Celine allowed her to treat you like a servant. That doesn’t mean she preferred that man.”
Nathan didn’t argue. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I moved on.”
“It matters to me!” Amy snapped sharply. “You were the only adult there with common sense. Celine can’t cook, can’t clean, can’t manage anything without throwing money at it. Every meal this week has tasted like soggy regret. I didn’t eat anything tonight. I lost my appetite thinking about what she did to you.”
Nathan let out a quiet laugh. “That bad?”
“Worse,” Amy replied quickly. Then she paused. “Wait. Did you leave anything edible behind before leaving?”
Nathan thought for a moment. “Yes. I left marinated beef in the lower freezer. It should still be good. Heat it thoroughly.”
The sound of rushed footsteps filled the call. A fridge door opened. Another gasp burst out.
“It’s here! I found it!”
A microwave beeped moments later, followed by a satisfied groan. “Nathan… this is divine. I swear, you’re a culinary miracle. How could she let someone like you go? What in the world is wrong with her?”
“You shouldn’t worry about me,” Nathan said gently. “Focus on yourself.”
“I’m focusing on swallowing this before depression hits me again,” Amy muttered between bites. “This is so good. Wow. I missed this so much.”
“Glad you like it.”
After a few more mouthfuls, she regained composure. “So… what now? What are you planning next?”
“I’ll be working for Veylor Group,” Nathan said. “Not in management. I’ll start as a regular employee. I need time to settle in.”
Amy nearly choked. “That’s ridiculous. You used to run departments. You handled complicated teams with ease. Why bury yourself under entry-level responsibilities?”
“I prefer starting small,” he replied calmly. “I need stability before anything else.”
Amy grumbled for nearly a full minute. “You’re too humble. Too patient. Too everything.”
Nathan chuckled again.
Eventually, she sighed. “I’m full. I’m calmer. I’ll head home soon. This house feels cursed. Celine and Tristan keep arguing for hours. Even Lyra hides in her room.”
“Get some rest, Amy.”
“I will.” Her tone softened dramatically. “Thank you for answering. Really.”
The call ended on a quiet note.
Nathan exhaled slowly and stared down at his phone. Aurora still sat at the table, pretending to be absorbed in her meal while clearly watching him from the corner of her eye. He turned away, trying not to meet her gaze. Something about her concern always struck deeper than he expected.
His thumb hovered over his contacts again.
One name stood out sharply:
Alistair Veylor
Nathan swallowed. His father’s name triggered a peculiar ache—something faint, distant, and emotionally tangled. He tapped the profile. A small line of text appeared beneath the contact name:
R34 D
He stared at the strange characters. The text glowed faintly, unlike the rest of the interface. A hyperlink.
“That’s impossible,” Nathan whispered.
His father died years ago. Back then, he used this phone only for basic calls and messages. Hyperlinks inside contact profiles were not even common features at the time.
“How did this get here…?”
He examined the characters again. R34 D. A code? A reference? A hidden message?
Something stirred inside him—not a memory, but a sensation. A whispering tug buried somewhere behind fractured recollections. His father always prepared things thoroughly. His father always planned ahead. His father always protected him.
Could this be another layer of that protection?
Nathan pressed the link.
The screen darkened instantly, lighting only through a faint golden shimmer. Symbols formed slowly across the display, rearranging themselves into a crest—an ancient emblem shaped with ornate lines and a crown-like motif. Something about the symbol felt familiar, though his memories refused to surface fully, hovering just beyond reach.
Below the crest appeared a locked prompt:
ENTER ACCESS CODE
Nathan blinked. “Access code…?”
He tried a few possibilities.
His father’s birthday.
Rejected.His mother’s birth date.
Rejected.His own birthday.
Rejected.He pinched the bridge of his nose. “What else…?”
He attempted old anniversaries. Important dates. Nothing worked. Every attempt led to the same denial message flashing back at him:
INCORRECT CODE
He paced slightly, mind racing. “What would Father use…?”
Then a sudden thought hit him.
His father’s phone number.
He hadn’t dialed it since the funeral. He memorized it out of habit long before smartphones saved contacts automatically. Something instinctive pushed him toward that possibility.
He typed the digits.
The lock screen froze.
For a full second, nothing changed.
Then the golden crest pulsed.
ACCESS GRANTED
Nathan inhaled sharply.
The display shifted again, revealing a new interface—sleek, dark, and unmistakably private. Gold letters formed across the center, each one materializing with elegant precision.
Nathan’s heart pounded.
This wasn’t a simply public website. This was something deliberately hidden.
Something Alistair prepared long ago…Something meant only for Nathan.
A final line of text appeared:
WELCOME, JULIAN VEYLORNathan nearly dropped the phone. Julian Veylor.
His real name, but he’s not yet realized or even remembered it.
His father’s voice thundered inside his skull as if rising from a forgotten world. His pulse quickened, cold sweat trailing down his spine.
“What… what is this…?”
A little truth he spent years unknowingly running from was now staring directly at him.
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
Retreat
Two hours passed beneath the muted sky of Crownville Hill, yet the property of Alistair Veylor remained silent, unyielding, almost mocking.Nathan and Darren had circled the estate repeatedly. Stone walls, sculpted hedges, polished marble surfaces—everything looked immaculate, preserved, and strangely untouched by time. Still, no entrance appeared. No seam. No mechanism. Nothing responded, no matter how aggressively Darren tested the structure.“This is bullshit,” Darren snapped, kicking a decorative stone near the garden path. “There has to be something.”Nathan said nothing. His gaze moved slowly across the architecture, searching for patterns rather than force. He had already reviewed every clue from Alistair’s notes—symbols, phrases, coordinates, fragmented memories triggered by the Aegis Tracking Node. None aligned with this place.It felt wrong.Not impossible—wrong.As though the house itself rejected the approach they were taking.Darren’s patience evaporated. He stormed towar
A Complicated Property
Darren Hart let out a low, mocking laugh as the iron gates behind them slowly closed, sealing everyone inside the grounds of Crownville Hill No. 88.“So,” he said, eyes fixed on Nathan, “you walk in like you own the place. Tell me—are you actually Alistair’s heir, or are you just pretending again?”Nira Hart stood beside him, her posture composed, her gaze sharp and analytical. Unlike Darren, she did not sneer. She assessed.“According to everything we know,” Nira added calmly, “Alistair Veylor had no recognized successor. No registered heir. No legal descendant. That means no one here has the right to claim this house.”Nathan met her eyes steadily. “I never said I was his heir.”Darren raised an eyebrow. “Then what gives you the nerve to stand here?”Nathan exhaled slowly. “I didn’t claim ownership. I followed a lead.”Aurora stepped forward before Darren could respond. Her voice was calm, yet firm. “By that logic, neither of you should be here. You aren’t heirs either.”The words l
Alistair Property
Since Nathan had succeeded in steering Veylor Group toward acquiring Astro Group for a full restructuring, anticipation had followed him like a quiet shadow. He had fulfilled his side of the unspoken bargain, stabilizing a collapsing insurance company that many believed was beyond saving. In return, he expected something far more valuable than capital or influence—answers.Yet Kade Veylor remained unmoved.The patriarch made his stance clear. Any information related to Alistair would remain sealed until Astro Group’s financial condition and public credibility were fully restored under Veylor Group’s governance. For Kade, secrets were not bargaining chips; they were legacies that demanded proof of worth.Nathan accepted that condition, even if patience weighed heavier with each passing day.Under his direction, Astro Group underwent rapid transformation. Amy Hart, whom Nathan trusted without hesitation, led the restructuring from within. Inefficient departments were dissolved. Financia
Astro Group Acquisition
The echo of the explosion rolled across the outskirts like distant thunder.Darren stood frozen beside the open door of the armored van, his jaw tightening as the sound faded into silence. Dust drifted from a nearby overpass, but the skyline remained unchanged. No fireball. No collapsing structure. No plume of smoke rising from the direction of Starlet.His men exchanged uncertain glances.“That wasn’t from the building,” one of them muttered.Darren clenched his fists. At first, he had been certain the plan succeeded. The C4 charge was calibrated with surgical precision. Red wire or blue wire—either choice should have triggered detonation. That was the certainty he had relied on, the inevitability he trusted.Yet Starlet still stood.Slowly, realization carved its way into his thoughts.If the blast happened far from the city, then someone had moved the device. Not disabled it. Not tampered with its wiring. Removed it entirely.Nathan.Darren slammed his palm against the van’s door.
C4 Bomb
Nathan’s thumb hovered above the glowing icon labeled Building Control.The device in his hand felt heavier than before, as though the entire structure of Starlet rested inside that slim frame. The warning timer continued its merciless countdown, red numbers pulsing like an exposed artery.02:47He tapped the screen.Instantly, the interface shifted. Layers of architectural schematics unfolded, revealing the building from foundation to rooftop. A warning banner surged across the display, sharp and unmistakable.ACTIVE EXPLOSIVE DEVICE DETECTED.Before Nathan could issue a command, the system reacted on its own.Deep within the hidden chambers of Starlet, metallic locks disengaged with a resonant clang. A concealed panel slid open, releasing a humanoid security unit built from matte-black alloy. Its eyes flashed amber as internal diagnostics completed in milliseconds.The robot launched forward.Its movement was nothing like the slow patrol units Darren’s men had destroyed earlier. Thi
Starlet Cellphone
Far beneath the lobby, Nathan moved through a corridor that felt like a vein inside a giant machine.The door had sealed behind them, cutting off gunfire, yelling, and chaos with one decisive lock. Beyond the hidden passage, the hallway descended at a subtle slope, lined with embedded lights that pulsed softly along the floor.Shen kept glancing back like the danger might seep through the walls. Juliette walked stiffly, her pride still shaken, her steps controlled but uneasy.“This corridor…” she murmured, voice hushed. “I’ve never been here.”Nathan’s eyes stayed forward, absorbing every detail. “But you knew it existed.”“I knew the concept,” Juliette admitted. “Starlet has layers. Administrative, operational, and… whatever this is.” She swallowed. “Alistair never let people like me near the core.”Shen frowned. “You’re Vice Director. How can you be excluded?”Juliette’s expression sharpened, defensive reflex returning. “Roland and I manage the public face. Legal structures. Paperwo
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