2025-06-10 00:07:11The cold wind still bit at Sarah’s skin when she reached the edge of the prison parking lot. Her legs felt weak, but she kept her head high.
Cameras trailed her every step, shouting her name and questions she couldn’t quite hear. All she could hear was the thud of her heart, like it wanted to break through her chest.Then she saw it—a long, sleek black limousine parked by the curb. Chrome wheels. Tinted windows. A uniformed chauffeur stood at the door, stone-faced.The reporters motioned towards the limo, blocking her path. “Sarah! Who sent the limo?”She paused, let them swarm. The tears on her cheeks had dried, leaving her face pinched and pale. She didn’t answer. Instead, she glanced at the car, waiting.The chauffeur opened the door. “Miss Chen,” he said softly.Sarah slid into the back seat. Plush leather. Warmth. The smell of new money and sharp cologne.A voice spoke, smooth and low. “Welcome back to t
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The rain started just after midnight, tapping the windows of Brent Walker’s study with a restless rhythm. The air outside was heavy. Brent stood by the window, hands in his pockets. Inside, the mansion was quiet, but not empty. In the living room, James slouched on the leather sofa, laptop open and a pile of files spread across the coffee table. Sophia—sharp-eyed, always thinking—sat on the rug in front of the fire, sorting through reports. Across from her, Lucy and Adams played chess. Their moves were slow and wary, as if they were negotiating more than just pawns and rooks. Brent watched the city lights flicker, the distant thunder rolling in. His jaw was set, his eyes cold. He hadn’t said much since the gala started. He didn’t have to. The whole team felt the storm coming. James looked up from his screen, catching Brent’s eye. “They’re still at it,” he said, nodding toward the television, wh
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The Chen family had never done subtle. Not when it came to power, not when it came to saving face, and certainly not when it came to welcoming Sarah back into the world of the living. So when Robert Chen announced a gala—the first in the city since Sarah’s release—it was less an invitation and more a declaration: We’re back. And this time, we’re untouchable. The city’s elite flocked to the grand ballroom of the Imperial Tower, the same chandeliered palace where Sarah once made headlines for her charitable “philanthropy.” Tonight, the air was heavy with perfume, the walls echoing with laughter that didn’t quite reach anyone’s eyes. Sarah stood at the top of the marble staircase, her mother fussing over her hair with trembling, jeweled fingers. “You look perfect, darling,” her mother whispered, smoothing a stray strand into place. “Remember, no matter what they say, tonight is about you. About us. They want a show—give them one.”
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The conference hall was packed. Cameras lined the back wall. Reporters jostled for position, and their faces glowed with anticipation. Every seat was filled—investors, city officials, business rivals, and more. Sarah could feel the heat of every eye on her. She stood at Charles’s side, just a little behind him, hands folded. Her dress was crisp white, her makeup perfect. She’d practiced her smile in the mirror for hours, but her lips still trembled at the edges. Charles, on the other hand, looked like he’d been born for this spotlight—tall, confident, suit pressed so sharp it could cut glass. Charles stepped up to the podium and adjusted the microphone. The crowd quieted. “Thank you, everyone, for coming,” he began, voice smooth and steady. “We’re here today not just to welcome Sarah Chen back, but to celebrate new beginnings for this city.” Reporters raised their phones. Flashbulbs popped. The tension i
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The cold wind still bit at Sarah’s skin when she reached the edge of the prison parking lot. Her legs felt weak, but she kept her head high. Cameras trailed her every step, shouting her name and questions she couldn’t quite hear. All she could hear was the thud of her heart, like it wanted to break through her chest.Then she saw it—a long, sleek black limousine parked by the curb. Chrome wheels. Tinted windows. A uniformed chauffeur stood at the door, stone-faced.The reporters motioned towards the limo, blocking her path. “Sarah! Who sent the limo?”She paused, let them swarm. The tears on her cheeks had dried, leaving her face pinched and pale. She didn’t answer. Instead, she glanced at the car, waiting.The chauffeur opened the door. “Miss Chen,” he said softly.Sarah slid into the back seat. Plush leather. Warmth. The smell of new money and sharp cologne. A voice spoke, smooth and low. “Welcome back to t
Chapter 116 - SARAH CHEN IS BACK!
SIX YEARS LATER...A cold wind slapped thirty-year old Sarah’s face as she walked out of the prison gates. The sky was gray, heavy. Flashes from cameras stung her eyes. She blinked, wiped at her cheeks, and let the tears fall. A crowd of reporters surged forward.“Sarah! Sarah Chen! Over here!”“Sarah, do you have anything to say?”She hesitated, one white-shaking hand on her chest. The tears kept coming.A woman with a bright blue scarf pushed a microphone close. “What’s your first feeling, Sarah, being free after six good years?”Sarah took a shaky breath. “It doesn’t feel real yet. I feel…” Her voice caught. “I feel grateful. I feel regret. I feel… lost.”The crowd pressed closer, hungry for every word.A man shouted, “Do you regret the crimes you committed?”Sarah’s shoulders shook. “Every single day. I regret everything. You know, I was arrested once, but didn't change and even
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Brent hadn’t slept much in weeks. The days blurred—board meetings, news cameras, emergency phone calls from city officials. He kept going, fueled by rage and duty, but even he felt the weight sometimes. This morning was supposed to be a win. His company’s new water bottling plant was finally at full capacity, and the first shipment of Walker Pure Water was scheduled to arrive at community shelters across the city. Brent made it a point to be at the plant before dawn. He shook hands with workers, signed crates, and helped load the first truck. “We’re doing good work here,” he told the team. “Clean water. Fair pay. No shortcuts.” Lucy brought Hope along, and she got to put her name on a bottle. The workers cheered, snapping photos with their phones. Brent thought, for just a moment, that maybe things were turning. He was w
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