The Titan War God Returns

Anonymous

Across the hall, Nesse sat in the corner where the party noise faded. She held a half-filled glass of red wine, swirling it without drinking. Her grey eyes followed the movement, but her mind seemed far away. 

The chandelier light touched her pale face, yet she looked detached. She lifted the glass once, paused, and set it down without sipping. Her shoulders slouched, her posture heavy as if the evening weighed on her.

Jules appeared suddenly, her heels clicking hard against the polished floor. Her face was tense, her lips pressed thin with irritation. Without a word, she grabbed Nesse’s arm and tugged it firmly.

“Why are you sitting here?” Jules scolded in a sharp whisper, leaning down so no one else could overhear. “Shouldn’t you be looking for Vince?” Her dark eyes narrowed as she gave her daughter a look that was both questioning and accusing at once.

Nesse let out a long, weary sigh, resisting the pull but not quite shaking her mother’s grip. “I’ve looked everywhere, Mum,” she replied, her tone flat, almost defeated. “He’s not here.” She rubbed her temple as if the mention of Vince’s name alone gave her a headache.

Jules clicked her tongue, the sound sharp with disapproval. She straightened, her eyes scanning the room like a hawk. They landed on a tall, elegant woman with a diamond necklace that caught the light. Jules’s face softened into a polished smile, hiding her annoyance.

“There,” she said quickly. “That’s Mrs. Loreson. Come with me.”

Before Nesse could speak, Jules tightened her grip and pulled her along, her nails pressing into her arm. Nesse followed, lips pressed in a thin line, the words of protest dying before they left her mouth.

Jules greeted Mrs. Loreson with smooth ease, her tone warm though her eyes stayed watchful. She brushed cheeks with the woman in a hollow show of affection, followed by empty air kisses. 

Nesse stood stiff beside her, her face blank, her arms hanging loose. Jules pinched her arm, her nails digging just enough to make her flinch.

“Ah—hello,” Nesse muttered quickly, forcing her lips into something that resembled a greeting smile. Her voice was stiff, betraying the lack of effort behind her words.

Jules gave a satisfied nod, but Mrs. Loreson’s smile faltered slightly at Nesse’s lack of warmth. Still, she answered politely, though her eyes flickered toward Jules rather than Nesse.

“Where’s your son?” Jules asked lightly, her voice dripping with practiced curiosity, as if the question was nothing more than casual conversation.

For a moment, Mrs. Loreson’s expression froze. The corners of her smile trembled, and a faint flicker of unease crossed her face. She cleared her throat softly, but her composure cracked. “He’ll join us soon,” she said, her tone careful, restrained. Without waiting for further probing, she excused herself quickly. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Her heels clicked across the marble floor as she moved swiftly toward the hallway, her face tightening as she walked. The further she went, the more her graceful mask slipped away, replaced by something sharper, more urgent. She stopped before a familiar door, her son’s door, and hesitated only briefly before tapping her knuckles gently against it.

“Vince?” she called softly, her voice carrying both expectation and worry. Silence met her. She tried again, louder this time, the edge of concern sharpening her tone. “Vince?”

When there was still no reply, she pushed the door open slowly, the hinges creaking faintly in the quiet.

The smell hit her first, sharp and chemical, too familiar—the stench of cocaine. Her chest tightened as her eyes landed on the table with neat white lines.

“No,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Not again.”

Then she saw it.

She stepped closer, her breath catching as the truth came clear. A body.

Her son. Vince.

His eyes were open but empty, his chest unmoving. Gone.

The scream ripped out of her, raw and guttural, cutting through the party. Music stopped. Laughter died. Panic spread.

Nesse jerked upright at the sound, unease twisting in her chest. She wanted to move but froze in place. Her phone buzzed in her hand. It was her secretary.

“I can’t talk right now,” Nesse snapped, her voice sharp as chaos swirled around her.

“But ma’am, you won’t believe this,” the secretary pushed, her voice urgent. “The Anonymous Super secret helper… he’s struck again.”

That froze Nesse. The angel investor—her company’s hidden benefactor. The one who had kept them afloat more than once.

“What do you mean?” Nesse demanded.

“A courier dropped off another cheque. A huge one. Ma’am, it’s incredible!”

Her heart pounded. She had chased this mystery for years, desperate to meet the hand behind it. Maybe this time…

“Keep him there. Don’t let him leave. I’m on my way,” Nesse ordered, shoving her phone into her bag. Without a second thought, she ran out of the building and into her car.

Halfway to her office, her phone buzzed again.

“I tried, ma’am,” her secretary said apologetically. “But he didn’t wait. It’s like he doesn’t want to be known.”

Nesse pushed the door open, her breath uneven, but the chair in front of her desk was already empty. Her eyes darted around the room as if the investor could still be hiding somewhere, but all she saw was her secretary standing stiffly, holding a large white envelope. Nesse’s brows furrowed as she walked closer, her heels clicking sharply against the floor.

“You’re too late, ma’am,” the secretary said quietly, almost as if she feared Nesse’s reaction. She extended the envelope with both hands, her expression tense. Nesse hesitated before snatching it from her, her grey eyes narrowing with suspicion.

“A cheque?” Nesse muttered under her breath as she pulled out the crisp slip of paper. The numbers hit her like a hammer. “Two hundred and fifty million?” Her voice cracked slightly, though she tried to mask it with a disbelieving scoff. She turned the cheque over in her hands, her lips parting in shock.

Her secretary fidgeted, clearly uneasy with Nesse’s reaction. “There’s also a note, ma’am. It was left inside.”

Nesse pulled the folded paper out with trembling fingers. Her eyes scanned the handwriting, her lips moving soundlessly as she read. “‘Your Anonymous Super secret helper.’” She repeated the words slowly, as if speaking them aloud would help them make sense. Her hand tightened on the paper, crumpling the edge.

Her face shifted between confusion and suspicion, her brows drawn together so tightly that faint lines formed between them. “What the hell is this supposed to mean?” she asked no one in particular, her voice low, almost to herself. She glanced up at her secretary, who only shrugged with uncertainty.

The silence in the room felt heavy, broken only by Nesse’s uneven breaths. 

She stared at the words again, her lips pressing into a thin line as though she could force the answer out of the cryptic message. Her chest rose and fell sharply as she lowered the note onto her desk.