2025-10-16 03:54:52As the dawning light faded, dark night descended. The wind was cool, and thunder rumbled in the distance. The Walterson family said their prayers before dinner, the clinking of cutlery echoing loudly in the wind.
"I think it's going to rain," Martin said, his eyes fixed on the window. "Yeah, I think so too," Sarah replied, getting up to get some water. "I'll go get us some water to drink." As she strode past her husband, he smacked her butt, making her giggle. "Seriously?" she said, laughing. When she got to the kitchen, the wild wind hit her face unexpectedly. She turned her face to grip the counter, her pregnant belly swaying precariously. She locked the window and went to get water from the refrigerator, but as she reached for the cups, her water broke without warning. The wine she had bought to celebrate Martin's promotion slipped from her hands, shattering on the floor. Martin rushed into the kitchen, his face etched with concern. "Sarah, oh no! Are you okay?" Sarah was already in labor, her face contorted in pain. Martin supported her into the car, the rain pounding against the roof. "You're strong, baby," he whispered, his voice trembling. "We're going to get through this together. Hang on, okay?" The car halted in the middle of the road, the engine sputtering. Martin got out to check, his clothes drenched in seconds. The car had a flat tire, and it would take him precious time to fix it. He rushed back to Sarah, holding her hands tight. "My love, I'll be back. I'll go get you help. Just hold on tight for me, please", with that he fled out of the car to find help. Martin ran to the sidewalk, bus stop and to every small kiosk shop but he found no one. Standing in the rain, confusion filled him, he panicked at the thoughts of losing his wife. His gaze shifted to a dark alley that flickered light across the road, but what was strange, was that he has never seen the alley before in the years he has lived in the neighborhood. He ran into the alley where the light flickered and found an old woman with wrinkled with a mix of gray and black short hair seated under a pavilion tent as shelter, he told her his situation and she offered to help. A few minutes later, Martin returned with an old woman, her face kind and gentle. "This is... Syrian," Martin said, introducing her. "She's an ex-nurse. She'll help you give birth in the car, and then we'll get to the hospital." Sarah nodded weakly, her eyes fluttering closed. The old woman, Syrian, quickly took charge, guiding Martin to sit beside Sarah. "You need to stay with her, keep her awake," Syrian said firmly. As the contractions intensified, Sarah's screams filled the car. Syrian's calm voice was a steady presence, guiding her through the pain. Finally, the cry of a baby filled the air, and Martin's face lit up with joy. The rest of the night was a blur of happiness and relief. Martin held Sarah close, tears streaming down his face as he gazed at their newborn child. Syrian smiled, her eyes shining with warmth, as she wrapped the baby in a blanket. "You did it, Sarah," she said softly. "You're a mother."
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CHAPTER 29
‐‐~ Jones ~‐‐Jones forced his shaking hands to grab his phone. The emergency operator picked up immediately, and he gave the location, told them someone was badly hurt, and that they needed to arrive fast.He didn’t stay longer than that.The moment the call ended, he ran through the rain toward Michael’s car. His heart was beating too fast, his thoughts scrambled. He didn’t understand what he saw, or what really happened, or why someone would target Barry of all people.He just knew he needed to get away before he completely fell apart.The tires screeched against the wet road as he sped back toward the event.The closer he got to the exhibition, the more his phone vibrated nonstop in his pocket—but he didn’t check it. He couldn’t. Not yet. His mind was still at the construction site, still seeing Barry drop past the elevator, still seeing the shadowed figure running away.When he finally reached the gallery, he parked carelessly—crooked and half over the line—and rushed toward the
CHAPTER 28
Continuation of chapter one.Kai — Arrival at the GalaThe ride to the Gala was silent, save for the low hum of the engine and the occasional vibration from my iPad. City lights streaked across the window—gold, white, violet—blurring together like an unfinished painting.I scrolled through the final catalog Clara had sent an hour ago: placement charts, lighting corrections, security grids, predicted turnout. My collections glowed on the screen—oil pieces, charcoal sketches, shattered-glass abstracts, fractured portraits. All bound to the theme of the exhibition:Past lives.Reincarnation.Echoes.Memories that didn’t belong to this lifetime.And threaded through nearly every work—subtle, half-hidden, sometimes only suggested in a shadow—was one recurring figure. The same silhouette. The same haunting outline.I still didn’t know who he was. Or why he kept appearing. Or why my hand seemed compelled to paint him, again and again.The thought gnawed at me, but tonight wasn’t for doubt. T
CHAPTER 27
AUTHOR’S NOTE:If you’ve read this far, congratulations — you’re officially one of the mystical art lovers, lol. I hope you’re enjoying this book. I’m truly sorry for the late and delayed update; please accept my sincere apology, guys.AUTHOR’S WARNING:Alright, listen up — things are about to get messy. Like really messy. These last few chapters dive straight into the characters’ past right before the Gala, and trust me, they’re all about to lose their minds in their own special ways.From this point onward, the story shifts. These next chapters will pull you beneath the surface and into the past — to the moments right before the Gala, where everything truly began. The characters you’ve been following will reveal themselves in ways you didn’t expect.Secrets will rot their way to the surface.Identities will crack open.Boundaries will be crossed without hesitation.And the truth behind Kai’s art and Jones’ life will grow darker, sharper, and far more dangerous.These scenes will exp
CHAPTER 26
‐‐~ Kai ~‐‐Dawn turned into night.I had done nothing worth calling a day except drinking.Today was supposed to be productive. Today, I told myself I would forget the dream — the nightmare — and focus. But the hours slipped through my fingers like dust. Every time I tried to start something, my mind dragged me back into that dark place. The place where the nightmare kept replaying, shifting, distorting, whispering things I didn’t want to hear.Frustration clawed at my chest. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t breathe. My mind felt like a cage tightening around me.Enough.Inside my studio, the air smelled of charcoal and turpentine — familiar, safe.I sat before the blank sheet, the pen trembling between my fingers.“Focus,” I whispered to myself.Lines began to form. Soft, fluid strokes. A silhouette. Then two. A man… a woman. My hand moved faster, almost automatically, as if something else was guiding me. Something old. Something buried.The male figure appeared first — the same figure
CHAPTER 25
~~~ Kai ~~~The morning sun crawled across the city skyline, slicing through the tall glass windows of my penthouse. The soft chime of the clock broke the silence. I rubbed my temples, my body stiff from another sleepless night. Pale dawn light spilled over the piano keys — the same ones I hadn’t touched since the last note faded hours ago.I dressed in quiet precision — black turtleneck, charcoal coat, leather gloves. Every motion deliberate, an armor against the heaviness in my mind.Outside, Manhattan was already awake. Downstairs, my chauffeur straightened up as soon as I stepped out.“Good morning, sir,” he greeted, grabbing my suitcase.“Morning,” I replied curtly.“Rough night?”“No. Slept well,” I lied, settling into the backseat. “And you?”“Great night,” he grinned, catching my glance in the rearview mirror.The streets glittered with melting snow, taxis blaring through traffic, steam rising from the subway vents. The city moved fast — too fast — while my thoughts dragged be
CHAPTER 24
~~~ Kai Won ~~~“You—you killed him. You murdered your own blood, your own brother… You’re evil!” Martin yelled.I trembled behind the door, covering my mouth as tears ran down my face. I couldn’t believe it—Mario had murdered Richard, our brother.Mario stood behind the table facing the window, a glass of whiskey in his hand. His back was turned to Martin, calm and cold. When he finally turned, he walked closer until they were face-to-face.“You make it sound like I committed the worst crime in the universe,” Mario said, his voice smooth. “Relax. It’s not that big a deal.”My heart sank. There was no guilt in his eyes—only a terrifying calm, as if killing Richard was the most natural thing in the world.“You evil bastard! You have no regret for your atrocity!” Martin’s voice cracked with rage.“Why should I?” Mario smirked. “You’re not as innocent as you claim to be, Martin.”“I’ll make sure you pay for what you did. For your sin. I’ll bring you to justice!”“And how exactly do you p
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