2025-10-16 04:02:53I felt a tap on my back. I gently raised my head from my mom's embrace, rubbing my eyes. Dr. Julian and a nurse stood beside me, the nurse holding a clipboard. "Good morning," Dr. Julian said. "Morning, what do you want?" I replied. "We need to check her vitals," he said, his hand gesturing towards my mom.
I stood up and left the room, watching Dr. Julian and the nurse through the door. After a few minutes, Dr. Julian came out, facing me. "How's she doing?" I asked, hoping for good news. "Her body isn't responding to treatment, and she needs a new heart urgently," he said, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. "I'll go pay the bills," I said, trying to process the news. "Keep her stable and breathing until then." Dr. Julian nodded. "I'll go inside and let her know I'm leaving," I added. He nodded again, his hands on the door handle. "And please don't tell her," he said, turning back to me. "Okay, I won't," I replied. I kissed my mom's cheek, whispering, "I'm going to go search for a job." She winced, her eyes blurry, but she faced me. Her hands found their way into my hair, caressing it. "Good luck," she whispered, her voice strained through the oxygen tube. Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes as I kissed her knuckles. "Thank you," I said, before quickly leaving so she wouldn't see me cry. The cold air hit me as I stepped out of the hospital. It was time for me to face reality. I took a bus to New York City, determined to find a good reporting job. But after hours of searching, I was met with rejection. Every company seemed to say the same thing: "No vacant spot" or "Not hiring at the moment." I pushed the thoughts aside and walked into a small restaurant, taking a seat by the window. A slender figure in a black and white apron, with sand-colored hair, called out my name. "Jones!" It was Maxwell, my best friend. We used to tease him about being a waiter instead of having an "official" job. We shook hands, and he sat down across from me. "What's the problem, bro? Aren't you going to get to work?" he asked. I hesitated, trying to hold back tears. "I lost my job... and my mom's been hospitalized. She needs a new heart." Max's expression turned sympathetic, and he shot me a comforting gaze. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea you were carrying all this burden." "It's not your fault, brother," I said, trying to reassure him. "I just don't like spreading my problems to people." Max nodded understandingly. We talked for a while, and I found some comfort in his company. He offered to help me out, lending me some money to cover half the hospital bills. He also offered to get my mom her favorite meal: chicken noodle soup and a chicken burger. "Thanks, man," I said, smiling. "I'll get going to the hospital." Max smiled back, his eyes genuine. "No need to thank me. You've done more for me in the past, remember? You'd drop everything to bail me out of trouble. I appreciate what you've done for me, bro. You showed me what it feels like to have a brother." "My regards to your mom," he said, as we parted ways. "Take care of yourself, brother. Come see me tomorrow." I nodded, I felt a sense of gratitude towards him. When I got to the hospital, i went to my mom's room. As i stood in the doorway, I saw Marie Yoon-Ah my Korean American girlfriend. She wore a white shirt tucked into her blue pant, more like an official work outfit and her long hair swaying at her back . She had light makeup, though without the makeup she's still pretty and a matching necklace and earrings. We met when I was on an interview section with Kai Won Alexander. It was crazy and thrilling when she ask for my number from a colleague. We became friends, but she wanted more for us than friend, And so did I. We've been dating for the past six months, she has been so supportive and caring even when I wasn't showing more of it. I Love her so much cause she makes everything seems easy and makes me want to do better. And offer her a good life, the kind she's used to than this miserable one I'm living. She said something that made my mom laughed while she giggles acting cute. The view of both women made my heart sink into happiness and a smile lit up my face.
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CHAPTER 32
“Don’t—” he said. I looked at him blankly. “Don’t think about it,” he continued. “Whatever that old woman said—dump it. Don’t let it root itself in your head. We’ve got a case now. That’s what matters.” I nodded, though my chest still felt tight.“Aren’t you going to ask what happened?” He didn’t look at me. “I shouldn’t have to ask. You should be telling.” I hesitated. “Spill,” he said. “Barry—the site contractor—was murdered last night. And—” I told him everything. When I finished, the car was no longer moving. I hadn’t noticed when he pulled over. He stared ahead for a long moment before exhaling slowly. Then he turned to me. “Why didn’t you call me?” “I—I tried to talk to Michael—” “Michael isn’t me.” I dropped my gaze. “I was scared. I didn’t want to drag you into my mess.” His voice softened. “It wasn’t your mess. You didn’t do anything. Guilt won’t save you—solutions will.” I nodded. “So what now?” “First, I need to know you’ve told me ever
CHAPTER 31
Johnny slowed as the iron gates of the Walters’ estate rose into view—towering, ornate, unapologetically hostile. He barely had time to kill the engine before armed men stepped out from the hedges, weapons lowered but ready, eyes scanning him like a threat that had wandered too close.He rolled down the window, calm practiced into his bones.“Detective Johnny,” he said evenly. “I’m expected.”No one answered. Minutes stretched. Radios crackled. Then, finally, a nod. The gates parted with a slow, deliberate groan.Inside, the estate unfolded like a private kingdom—manicured lawns, marble paths, silence too expensive to disturb. A butler met him at the steps, crisp and unreadable, and guided him past the house toward the golf garden.Laughter carried on the breeze.Lucien stood with a club in hand, Old Walter beside him, while little Jason chased a rolling ball, giggling as it escaped his reach. The scene was almost disarming—warm, familial, deceptively normal.Old Walter spoke without
CHAPTER 30
The ride to my place was a graveyard of words. Nothing but silence and the weight of everything I couldn’t tell her. She kept glancing my way; I kept pretending not to notice. My head was already drowning in the mess at the site, and the fight at the gala still burned through my veins.The second we stepped in, I pushed the door open too hard and walked straight through the living room. Marie rushed in behind me, breath unsteady.“Jones—stop!” Her hand gripped my arm.I turned, jaw tight, pulse still punching through my throat. I could feel the leftover rage in my eyes, hot and unruly.“You’ve still not given me an answer,” she said. “What was that? And where were you all night? You disappeared for hours—No calls, no text—and then you show up starting a fight?”I exhaled sharply, the memory flashing through my mind. “I didn’t start a fight,” I said, voice low and rough. “He tried to—he tried to touch you and I can’t let that happen. You know me better.… I don’t let anyone touch what’s
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
