2025-04-09 10:39:11The restaurant was called La Bella Noire. It was made up of an elegant rooftop spot that kissed the clouds above the city.
Its glowing chandeliers hung like stars, casting soft lights across the white marble floors. A gentle jazz melody played in the background, as waiters dressed in black tuxedos glided smoothly between tables. At a private corner by the glass window, Evelyn sat with her three closest friends—Freda, Hilda, and Clarissa. They were dressed in luxury—diamond earrings, silk dresses, high-end designer shoes. Their table was covered with golden plates, crystal glasses filled with champagne, and a spread of world-class cuisine: truffle risotto, wagyu beef steaks, lobster dipped in white wine butter. They ate slowly and with class, lifting their forks like royalty and dabbing their lips with fine linen napkins. Then Freda leaned back in her seat, gently tapping her glass with a silver spoon. “My loves,” she began boldly, “let me tell you what my husband did this week.” She smiled proudly, brushing back her golden brown hair. “He just returned from Qatar. Guess what? The government there gave him a new title—Honorary Prince of the Sands—for his massive donations to their health and education sectors.” Evelyn raised her brow slightly, trying to smile. “Oh, and get this,” Freda continued, laughing lightly. “They gave him two oil wells as a reward.” “Two oil wells?” Hilda repeated, with eyes that were wide with fake shock. Freda nodded. “Yes, darling. He already signed the rights. And to celebrate, he bought me this diamond transparent watch.” She raised her wrist for them all to see. “Custom-made. Twenty million dollars.” They all gasped—except Evelyn, who just sipped from her wine glass quietly. Now it was Hilda’s turn. She sat up straight, flashing her white teeth. “Well, in the spirit of your celebration Freda, it would interest you ladies to know that my darling husband just got honoured too, promoted even,” she said proudly. “He’s now a General in the Eswatini Royal Army.” “General?” Clarissa asked. “Yes! He had a private ceremony with the King last week. Full military honors.” She paused. “And guess what gift he gave me after that?” “What?” Freda asked, leaning forward. Hilda smiled. “A brand-new Bugatti La Voiture Noire. Fully armored. Delivered four days ago. I’ve barely stopped driving it since.” "Wait, you mean that Bugatti outside belongs to you?" Clarissa asked, her eyes widening in disbelief. Hilda nodded, clearly enjoying the attention. "My God, you need to see the attention, how people were looking at me once I pulled up in that Bugatti La Voiture Noire, babes. It’s a one-of-a-kind custom design. People thought I was royalty. It was like being driven in a piece of automotive history.” They all giggled again, clinking their glasses. Clarissa flipped her curly hair over her shoulder and leaned in with a smirk. “Well, not to brag, but… my husband was just named the new Chairman of the National Financial Policy Committee.” All eyes turned to her. “It was on the news four days ago. He’s the youngest ever to be given that role,” she added. “And to celebrate… he took me to Paris for lunch and surprised me with a necklace worth over fifteen million dollars. Pure sapphire. I nearly fainted!” “Wow!” Hilda and Freda both shouted, clapping softly. Then Freda turned to Evelyn, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “So, Evelyn... what about your husband?” she asked, tilting her head. “Has he achieved any level of success... besides running to your desk every morning begging you to sign some documents, saying ‘It’s good for business, it’s good for business’?” The other ladies burst into laughter. Evelyn’s face turned stiff. She tried to laugh with them, but it was weak… forced. “But come to think of it,” Hilda added, looking at her sharply, “why the hell did you choose a man who works under you? A man who calls you boss?” That line pierced deep. Evelyn didn’t respond. She just stared down at her plate, her fingers tightening around her fork, as if trying to hold back something boiling deep inside. Evelyn lowered her eyes. Her throat felt tight. The words to respond didn’t come. The laughter around the table kept ringing in her ears. All she could see was Freda’s smirk... and the shining glass of the twenty-million-dollar watch on her wrist. But the real pain wasn’t the laughter. It was the memory. The memory of that day during the Rhys tech ascendancy gala at her company headquarters… When Nolan walked in and caught her in one of the private rooms within the company headquaters with Zahir Malikyan. He caught her lips brushing against that of Zahir. It was just a kiss—and some slight touching, nothing more. But the look on Nolan’s face still haunted her. As she remembered how Nolan dealt with that situation, it vexed her why an average man like him would disrupt her romantic encounter with someone like Zahir Malikyan. The pain. The silence. The heartbreak. She shook the thought away. “I’m just... I’m not in the mood to talk about Nolan,” she whispered. “Oh, please!” Hilda scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You should be in the mood. You married him!” She laughed again and sipped her champagne. “Evelyn, I’ve been meaning to ask... What came over you, babe? You—one of the sharpest women I know—ended up marrying a man who works under you? A man who is literally on your payroll?” Clarissa and Freda burst into laughter again. Evelyn’s chest rose slowly. She sat up and looked at them. “Listen,” she said firmly, her voice was low but clear, “Nolan is smart. He’s committed. He’s loyal. He’s been there for me and the company when no one else was.” She tried to defend her husband. Freda shrugged. “No one is saying he hasn’t. In fact, we all know how much Nolan has helped with the growth of Rhys-Tech Global.” Said Hilda. “Exactly,” Evelyn replied. “He’s helped me seal major deals, secure big partnerships, and manage high-level investors. He may not be flashy, but he’s a strong man. A good man.” Clarissa smiled lazily. “Yes, we know, Evie. We know.” “But is he a man of status?” Freda asked suddenly. Evelyn blinked. Freda leaned forward, her Smile fading into a sharp line. “Is he a man of rank? Of power?” She paused, letting her words settle like a blade. “Tell me, Evelyn,” she added, dragging her voice slowly, “what has Nolan really achieved... apart from secretly begging billionaires around the country—and around the world—to please invest in your company, Rhys-Tech Global?” The table exploded in laughter again. And this time… Evelyn’s hands began to tremble. She didn’t laugh. She didn’t blink. She just sat there, staring at her plate… Feeling like the whole room had gotten darker. Just then someone stepped inside the restaurant. It was Nolan.
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THE EXILED KING FORGIVE ME EVELYN
Just then, Nolan stepped into La Bella Noire.He paused for a moment at the entrance, scanning the elegant rooftop like a man on a mission. His sharp brown eyes moved from table to table, slowly… carefully… as if searching for someone important.He was searching for his wife.At the far end, Hilda spotted him first.She smirked and whispered under her breath, “Well, well... the average Joe is here.”The other women turned quickly.Even Evelyn.And for the first time in her life… she felt ashamed of him.She wished she didn’t know him. She wished he would turn around and disappear.But he didn’t.Nolan’s eyes found her.And almost immediately, his face lit up with a soft smile.Without hesitation, he started walking toward their table.“Oh, the average Joe is coming,” Freda said mockingly, lifting her glass. “Everyone be on your guard.”The women laughed quietly—but then, like a strange magic passed over them, they all adjusted their posture.Their backs straightened.Their faces tigh
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Hilda slowly shook her head.Her expression was sharp. Cold. Unforgiving.Freda and Clarissa saw it… and shook their heads in similar fashion.Their faces showed it all—they didn’t buy Nolan’s show. Not one bit.Evelyn saw their reactions.She turned back to Nolan with a strange look in her eyes. She stood up to her feet, brushed her gown lightly, and gave him a slow shake of the head.“No, Nolan,” she said coldly. “Not here. Not like this.”She walked past him.The music faded. The dancers paused. Even the jazz band started playing more slowly, unsure of what to do.Nolan gently grabbed her hand. His voice broke as he spoke.“Evelyn, please,” he said. “I didn’t plan all this just for attention or drama. I meant every single word. I’m not ashamed of you, and I’m not ashamed to show how much I love you. That’s all I wanted. That’s why I came here tonight. That's why I arranged for all this.”Evelyn turned to him slowly.She looked into his eyes. There was real pain in his eyes.Her eye
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Meanwhile, as the four women stepped out of the restaurant, the night air was crisp and refreshing, a sharp contrast to the tension they'd just left behind. Hilda led the way, her heels clicking on the pavement as she confidently walked towards her Bugatti La Voiture Noire, the deep, glossy black surface of the car reflecting the streetlights in a way that made it look almost like it was glowing. It was a masterpiece of design—sleek, fast, and utterly commanding. The car itself seemed like a metaphor for the woman behind the wheel: powerful, elegant, and unstoppable. The doors opened, and the ladies slipped inside, settling into the luxurious leather seats. The interior was just as exquisite as the exterior, with every detail perfectly crafted for comfort and style. The soft hum of the engine as Hilda started the car only added to the sense of grandeur that filled the space. Freda, unable to hold back her amusement, turned to Evelyn, the laughter was still dancing in her eyes
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Nolan stepped into the house, his steps were heavy with exhaustion. The day at work had been long and frustrating. He dropped his briefcase by the couch and loosened his tie. The scent of freshly cooked food welcomed him, and for a moment, it brought a small sense of comfort. He walked into the dining area, and as usual, his lunch was neatly arranged on the table—grilled steak, creamy mashed potatoes, buttered corn on the cob, and a cold glass of iced tea. Everything looked perfect—but the silence in the house was too loud to ignore. It seemed everyone else was busy with whatever they were doing. He sat down and began to eat slowly, lost in thought. Every bite tasted like ash. His mind wasn't with the food. His chest felt heavy. The picture of Evelyn smashing cake in his face at La Bella Noire about two days ago haunted him. The laughter. The mockery. The shame. After finishing the meal, he stepped out to the backyard pool area, lit a cigar, and sank into the poolside r
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Three Days Later... The courtroom was cold and quiet, filled with a strange tension. Nolan sat beside his lawyer, Barrister Keme, his hands were clenched tightly on his lap. He was dressed in a black suit and tie, and his eyes were dark from sleepless nights. Across the courtroom, Evelyn sat beside Zahir Malikyan. She was dressed like a widow in mourning—wearing a black linen cloth over her head, and large dark shades covering her eyes. Her face was calm, like she had already moved on. Like she had buried the past and didn’t plan to ever dig it up again. Nolan’s chest burned with anger and heartbreak. He tried not to look at her, but his eyes kept going back. He remembered how hard he had fought for her—for Rhys Tech Global. He remembered working day and night, risking everything, cutting off friends just to build the company from scratch. Just to make sure her dreams and majorly that of her father's didn’t die. And now she was here, fighting to take it all away from him.
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Not knowing how much time had passed by, a low buzzing sound filled Nolan’s ears. His eyes blinked open slowly—heavy, tired, swollen. The first thing he saw was the face of a dead monkey. Its skin was peeling, eyes gone, and its teeth stuck out like a horror movie creature. Flies danced all over it. Nolan gasped. The stench hit him hard. He turned his head slowly. Pain shot through his neck. All around him, he saw used baby diapers, blood-stained tissue, leftover food, broken bottles, and bags of rotting vegetables. He was inside a trash bin. A big, green trash bin. The kind that stood at the back of restaurants and dirty streets. The walls were high, stained with old grease and dried blood. The heat made the air thick. Maggots crawled everywhere. His body screamed to move. To get out. But nothing moved. His hands were heavy. His arms felt like they were chained down. When he tried to raise his head, pain exploded in his skull. One of his eyes was swollen shut. The
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Two of the urchins reached forward to grab the belt from Nolan’s waist. He knew the value of that belt—it was worth more than anything he had left. With what little strength he had, he fought back. His body screamed in pain, but he didn’t care.One of the urchins grabbed the belt, and Nolan’s hand shot out, clutching the dirty fabric tightly.The other urchin moved in to help, but Nolan reacted quickly. He kicked him hard in the groin.“AHHH!” the urchin screamed, stumbling backward, with his hands clutching his pain.The second urchin, still holding onto the belt, froze for a moment, scared. He stepped back, looking at Nolan with fear in his eyes.“Let me go, please,” Nolan whispered weakly, his chest heaving with every breath. “If you're not here to help me, then just leave me be. Please.”The first urchin, who was still clutching his groin, laughed loudly. Then, the second one laughed. Soon, all four of them were laughing, making fun of Nolan’s pain and suffering.“You’re begging
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The urchins didn’t wait any longer.With angry cries, three of them rushed at the hefty man at once—fists tight, and eyes that were filled with rage.The first one, the tallest among them, charged with a wooden stick he had picked up. He swung it high, aiming straight for the man’s head.But the hefty man moved fast—too fast.WHAM!He punched the urchin right in the stomach.The stick dropped from his hand as he bent over, choking on his breath.CRACK!A strong knee hit the guy's face. He dropped to the ground like a sack, groaning, with blood running from his nose.The second urchin tried to grab the hefty man from behind, hoping to pull him down.But the man turned quickly, grabbed his wrist, and twisted it hard.SNAP!The sound echoed through the alley. The guy screamed, falling on the ground while holding his arm tight.“Please! My hand! I give up!” he cried, rolling on the dirt in pain.The third one paused for a second, fear starting to show. But pride pushed him forward.He ran
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Suddenly, the heavy doors of the boardroom swung open again.A new figure walked in—Dan Strauss, the second son of Timothy Strauss. He moved with a strong, confident air, his steps were slow but firm, as if he owned the ground he walked on. His black suit was crisp and sharp, and he carried himself with an arrogance that was hard to ignore.Behind him was his personal assistant, a slim man with quick eyes, holding a leather folder tight to his chest.A quiet tension filled the room the moment Dan appeared. Conversations died down. Heads turned. It was clear—Dan was someone to be reckoned with, someone who might just be the next CEO of Timo Fintech Enterprise if things didn't go Merrick’s way.Dan didn't even glance at Merrick as he walked toward the table. He pulled out a chair about three seats away from his older brother and sat down smoothly, placing his hands lightly on the table.As Dan settled in, his sharp eyes swept the room—and landed on Nolan.He stared.For a moment, he s
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Five minutes passed before the elevator doors slid open once more. About five minutes before that time, inside the elevator, Merrick Strauss and his entourage had already entered, their conversation was casual and confident. The six men were scattered inside, engaged in low discussions, oblivious to their surroundings.Nolan’s gaze flicked to the group of men once again. He noticed one man in particular—a tall figure with sharp features, wearing an ash-gray suit. His demeanor was different from the others—cold, calculating. This man didn’t have the look of someone who had earned his position; he looked as though he was simply waiting for what was rightfully his.“That one,” Carter said, his voice was a soft whisper, barely audible over the hum of the elevator. He gestured subtly toward the man in the gray suit. “That’s Merrick Strauss. Mr. Timothy Strauss’s first son.”Nolan frowned, his eyes narrowing. “Merrick Strauss?” he repeated. “The first son?”Carter nodded. “He’s the percei
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The limousine drove through the city, smooth and silent. Nolan stared out of the window, his eyes turned wide as the tall buildings passed by. The sun was high in the sky, casting silver light on the glass windows of towers. But nothing caught his attention like the one ahead.As they approached, Nolan sat up straight.The building of Timo Fintech Enterprise rose into the sky like a monument from the future.It wasn’t just tall—it was majestic.The front was covered in pure, reflective glass, so clear it looked like the clouds had landed on earth. The entire structure twisted upward in a spiral form, like strands of DNA. Along its sides were glowing panels—lines of digital light ran up and down like a slow-moving code. A giant silver emblem spun gently at the top, shaped like a cube wrapped in a circuit.It looked more like a monument to science fiction than a regular company.Nolan couldn’t believe his eyes.“This is… unreal,” he whispered.The limousine turned into the driveway
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The silence after Nolan’s outburst hung heavy in the air.Then, without a word, the fashionistas moved again. No one looked offended or shocked anymore. They had expected resistance.One of the assistants walked forward and gently lifted the assistant Nolan had pushed down. The man nodded calmly, dusting himself as if nothing had happened.Jean-Maurice raised one hand, giving a small signal.From behind the line of fashion experts, a young man in black gloves rolled a wheelchair into the room.It was sleek—dark leather with chrome linings and smooth tires that didn’t make a sound.Jean-Maurice turned to Nolan and said gently, “It’s time to move, Mr. Nolan.”Nolan didn’t move at first. He stared at the wheelchair as if it were something out of a dream—or a trap.Then two of the assistants stepped forward again. This time, Nolan didn’t fight.He allowed them to guide him. One of them held his arm gently while the other supported his back. Even though his body ached, they moved with su
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Nolan sat up slowly on the hospital bed, wincing at the pull of pain in his side.In his hand was a small mirror. He raised it to his face.What stared back at him was the grotesque shape of his battered face.His skin was covered with brownish iodine stains. Cotton wool pads pressed gently against bruised cheekbones, held in place by white plasters. A long cut across his forehead had been stitched. One of his eyes was swollen. His lips, cracked and dry. His face… it looked like a map of pain.He looked at himself in silence, his eyes slowly filling with something deeper than pain—shame… anger… and loss.A soft knock came at the door, followed by a gentle push.A tall man in a white coat stepped in. It was Dr. Emerson—the physician in charge of his care all this while.“Mr. Rhys,” the doctor said gently. “I won’t lie to you. The injuries to your face were severe. But tomorrow, we’re going to do something about it. A cosmetic surgery. You need it… not just for how you look, but to hel
THE WEIGHT OF BETRAYAL
Nolan didn’t speak right away.He turned his face slightly, avoiding Mr. Strauss’s eyes.Then, quietly, he asked, “Why… why do you want to know me? Is it that necessary?”Mr. Strauss leaned in a little closer, his voice was calm and sincere. “Come on, Nolan. Is there anything wrong with knowing the man who just saved my company from going bankrupt?”There was a long silence.Then Nolan sighed—a deep, tired sigh.“My name is Nolan Rhys,” he said slowly. “That is all.”Mr. Strauss raised his eyebrows. “That is all?”He looked truly surprised.Something in Nolan’s voice, something in his eyes… it made it clear that there was more. A secret. A truth Nolan didn’t want to share.Strauss tilted his head, studying him carefully.“Nolan,” he began again, his voice was a bit softer now. “I noticed the belt. That Hermès Mini Athena Belt. That’s no cheap item.”He paused.“And the way you spoke. The way you handled the system. You weren’t fumbling. You knew what you were doing. Like someone who’
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The next day. The system was holding steady, but the damage had already been done.In the main recovery room of Timothy Strauss mansion, Nolan lay on the white hospital bed, his left hand was connected to a drip. The IV fluid bag hung above him, slowly feeding his exhausted body. Not to mention that his face had been swollen all this while. He was now receiving another round of medical treatment—fresh medication to ease the pain and speed up his healing.Cotton wool pressed into the deep cuts on his temple and chin. His right cheek had a fresh plaster on it—pink and puffy. Ever since he was picked up close to the trash bin, he looked like someone who had walked through hell and barely made it out alive.But the real scars weren’t the ones the eye could see.As Nolan stared at the ceiling, the world around him felt distant—muted. The faint beeping of the heart monitor beside him, the soft hiss of the oxygen tube near his nose, the gentle rhythm of the drip—all of it felt like backgr
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Nolan nodded.“Yes. It’s risky. It might not work. But… it might buy us time. It might give us one more chance.”Strauss took a step closer.His expression changed.From calm…To curious.To hopeful.He looked Nolan straight in the eye.“We’re being drained again! There is another breach on Wallet Node C!”Gasps filled the air.A flurry of keystrokes followed. The screens lit up with red alerts. One of the analysts shoved his chair back and sprinted to another console.“They’ve bypassed the second firewall!”“No, no, no! How is that even possible?!”“We need to shut it all down! Now! Before they drain the reserve pool too!”Timothy Strauss’s calm cracked ever so slightly—his jaw tightened. But he didn’t move.Nolan gripped the flash drive tighter. Every instinct in him screamed run. Hide. Protect what's yours. He had fought too hard, suffered too long. That flash drive held his redemption.But then his eyes fell on the youngest techie—barely out of college maybe—who had frozen at his
TEARS AND TERMINAL CODES
Inside the room, chaos continued.The six men at the laptops were now speaking over each other.“We should freeze all trading pairs until we stabilize the token!” one man shouted.“No! That’ll make things worse. People will panic more if they can’t withdraw!”“We need to contact the cold wallet custodian. Tell him to move everything to multisig.”“I already tried—he’s not answering!”“Call Jonah! He knows the fallback code for the vault system!”“I did! His number isn’t going through!”Another man cursed loudly and slammed his palm on the desk. “We’re running out of time! We need help!”One of them picked up his phone and dialed fast. He waited, pacing back and forth.“Come on, answer... please answer,” he muttered.Another man had both hands pressed against his forehead. His eyes were red, his voice weak. “My wife just sent a message. She saw the crash on the news. She’s asking if we’ll be okay…”The pressure was heavy. Too heavy.Everyone was talking, trying, shouting, hoping.But n
