Clarice slowly opened her eyes, her vision still blurred by the fog of sleep. She blinked a few times, trying to orient herself in the semi-darkness of the room. The walls, adorned with subtly luxurious wallpaper and illuminated by the soft light of wall sconces, conveyed an atmosphere of calm and tranquility. However, something was amiss.
As she attempted to gather her fragmented memories, flashes of dreams stirred in her mind. Dreams of a perfect wedding with Callum, where she was the radiant bride walking down the aisle, surrounded by laughter and happiness. But now, upon awakening, those moments of euphoria seemed distant and unreal, as if they belonged to another life.
She turned her head to the side, feeling a slight discomfort in her neck, a painful reminder of what had happened. Her breathing quickened as images of the attack cascaded back, flooding her mind with terror and confusion.
The luxurious hospital room around her offered little comfort in the face of the anguish she felt. She tried to move, but a sharp pain in her chest reminded her of her fragile condition.
As the distant sound of medical equipment echoed in the room, Clarice found herself struggling to distinguish between what was real and what was just a fleeting dream. And deep in her mind, a voice whispered, feeding the seed of doubt and darkness.
By her bedside, Beatrice Phillips, her mother, remained vigilant, supported by Sarah Campbell, whose presence offered a silent comfort amidst the turmoil. Beatrice held Clarice's hand tenderly, her eyes filled with concern and motherly love.
"Darling, you're awake," Beatrice said, her voice choked with emotion. "How are you feeling?"
Clarice looked at her mother, trying to gather strength to speak. The words seemed to escape her mouth, but she finally managed to articulate a weak response.
"I'm... I'm okay, Mom," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "What... what happened?"
The concern on Beatrice's face deepened, but Sarah intervened gently.
"You've been through a tough time, dear," Sarah said, her voice soft and reassuring. "But you're safe now. We're here with you."
Clarice nodded, allowing herself to sink back into the soft pillow, her mind clouded by the effects of trauma and medication. As the fog of sleep threatened to envelop her once again, she struggled to keep her eyes open, fearing the nightmares that might await her in the realm of dreams. Yet, despite her longing to return to that world of happiness and tranquility, she knew that the dark reality awaiting her awake could not be avoided.
As the days unfolded into a sequence of unusual events, the police investigation progressed silently and meticulously in its quest for answers. Amidst suspicion that the attack may have been perpetrated by someone close to the involved families, the police proposed wiretapping communications and monitoring all individuals with any kind of relationship, however small.
Meanwhile, an intriguing discovery stirred the corridors of the investigation. The car used in the attack was located in a deserted place nearby, leading investigators to an abandoned house in a remote area. There, amidst the shadows of neglect and abandonment, the police uncovered disturbing evidence.
The house, with its rustic appearance and weathered marks, showed few signs of recent use. In the dusty air hung the scent of decay, but something more sinister was about to be revealed. Among the debris and wreckage, brown, withered stains betrayed the presence of wilted petals of blue flowers, a characteristic sign of the criminal.
But the true horror was about to be uncovered. As the investigators scoured the property's surroundings, their shovels met resistance under the earth. Meticulous excavation revealed a clandestine cemetery, a grim testimony to the crimes perpetrated by a ruthless predator. Injecting adrenaline into the case.
The hiring of geologists and the use of scanners revealed a macabre scene, with human bones arranged beneath the earth in a grotesque ritual of darkness. Every skull, every femur, and every trace of interrupted life cried out for justice in a deafening silence.
In the hospital... Taylor remained serene in the hospital bed, unaware of the conversation her mother, Greta, was having with herself. For Greta, Taylor's connection with the Kadmans represented more than just a formal contract of professional affection. It was a constant reminder of the life she hoped for her daughter—a life of prestige and recognition, but also a life filled with commitments and responsibilities.
However, Greta was completely unstable in the face of the situation. She struggled not to project her own pain onto Taylor, especially in front of Elizabeth Kadman, whose presence evoked painful and complex memories.
Before, Greta used to believe that not everything was the Omega's fault, who was now with Adam Kadman. She acknowledged that one person could illuminate another's mediocrity, but that belief seemed increasingly distant in light of current circumstances.
Feeling unjustly traded by the exchange Sawyer, her husband, made for a new family, Greta struggled to find a way to protect Taylor. She knew she shouldn't repay injustice with more pain, but the feeling of powerlessness consumed her.
Sawyer, her ex-husband, was terrible and 100% guilty. Guilty of abandoning them for an omega with a prominent family in the political scene.
Being with Adam meant more to Taylor than just a desire for prestige. It was the recognition of an achievement she could flaunt, a dream she had nurtured since she was young. Greta understood Taylor's fascination with the Prime Alpha but wondered if all the sacrifice would be worth it.
Faced with Elizabeth's invitation for Taylor to spend time at the Kadman residence during her recovery, Greta found herself without options. She knew she couldn't refuse the offer, even if it meant confronting her own anxieties and resentments.
⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ⁂ ⁂ At work, Aster is immersed in his responsibilities as a curator. His role involves much more than simply caring for artworks; he acts as a guardian, protecting and enriching the artistic value of each piece.
There is an inherent aura of magic to curatorial work. The ability to shape and nurture the potential of an artwork is a fascinating and rewarding journey for Aster, providing him with a peaceful and fulfilling work platform that contrasts deeply with the turmoil of his previous life as a federal agent.
Reflecting on his own journey, Aster ponders his lack of offspring. For years, he pursued consumer values and built his dreams according to market demands. Sports cars were symbols of success and status, but over time, his priorities shifted. He began to envision a future where having children became a profound aspiration, especially after meeting Emma, whose gentle and authentic nature awakened his desire to start a family.
Although advertisements portray babies as pink and pristine beings, Aster acknowledges the reality behind motherhood: the sleepless nights, the crying, and the moments of messiness and chaos. However, he yearns for these genuine experiences of parenthood, wishing to share toothless smiles and create precious memories alongside a child. Aster knows he is ready to embrace the journey of parenthood and offer love and care to a new life.
"When Aster received a message that Reese Davis, a content creator working at a marketing agency, wished to schedule a brainstorming meeting, Reese said, "Aster, what a pleasure to speak with you. How have you been?"
Aster: Hello, Reese. I'm well, thank you. And yourself?
Reese: Great, great. Look, I've been thinking: with the success of Finley McDermott's exhibition pre-launch, I think it's time we discussed some details about the collaboration between your gallery and our agency.
Aster: Ah, of course, of course. We're looking forward to working more closely with you on this project.
Reese: That's great to hear. And you know, Aster, it's truly admirable how well you manage to balance your commitments with the professionalism you demonstrate. Even in such an important relationship, you remain so attentive and willing to collaborate with our agency.
Aster: (pause, realizing the veiled suggestion of blackmail) Well, Reese, I am committed to the success of this project and willing to do whatever it takes to ensure the best outcome for all involved.
Reese: Of course, of course. I completely understand. I'm sure we'll find a way to mutually collaborate to achieve our goals.
Aster: Absolutely. Let's schedule a meeting to discuss the next steps. I'm looking forward to working together on this project.
Reese: Perfect. I'll have my assistant reach out to you to schedule the meeting. Thank you for your attention, Aster.
Aster: The pleasure is mine, Reese. Until soon.
Aster knew he needed to act with caution and determination to rid himself of the blackmailer, Reese Davis. He was aware of the risks involved, but also understood that allowing Reese to continue his manipulations could lead to even worse consequences. Despite the mix of confused feelings, Aster made a firm decision.
He recognized that Fredrik Lund, the employee of the Kadman Hotel, was a dangerous character but limited in his capacity for planning and execution. While Fredrik was just a "good scoundrel," greedy for money and willing to use questionable means to achieve his goals, Reese represented a more direct and intelligent threat. There was no longer a question of right or wrong; he would only follow Damian's logic.
Aster realized that to protect not only himself but also Damián, he needed to eliminate the source of the problem: Reese Davis. Although this meant stepping into morally ambiguous territory, Aster was willing to face the consequences to ensure everyone's safety.
Hours later, Kadman mansion, night... Damián was sitting in the mansion's library, flipping through the day's digital newspapers while trying to absorb the news shaking the city. His eyes fixed on the headlines about Clarice Phillips' incident and a brief note about his friend Taylor May, who was hospitalized. Although the reports described the incident as a "suspicious accident," Damián knew there was more to it than that.
As he pondered the recent events, Adam entered the library with determined steps. His tired eyes reflected the concern he hid beneath a facade of calmness and control.
"Damián, greeted Adam, rising from his chair. "I was reading about what happened. Your mother, Lady Elizabeth, has been at the hospital with Taylor for three days now. Is her condition severe?"
Adam nodded, his expression tense. "Yes, unfortunately. This is a terrible time for her mother, Mrs. Greta May, who needs support."
Damián studied Adam's face for a moment, noticing the nuances of concern and restraint he tried to mask. "You seem overwhelmed with work lately. Too many meetings and commitments"?
Adam sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's true. It's been hectic days."
Damián hesitated for a moment before deciding to address the matter directly. "Adam, may I ask... What happened to Clarice and Taylor? The newspapers are only reporting the basics, but I feel like there's something more going on".
Adam met Damian's gaze; his expression serious. He pondered for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "Damián, there are a few things we've discovered that may be connected to this. Astra is involved in some way, but we're still gathering information."
Damián felt his spirits stir upon hearing that Astra was a suspect, knowing that Mason was just a few meters away from them in that mansion. The surprise on his face was undeniable. Visibly surprised by Adam revelation, his eyes narrowed in a mixture of shock and caution. "Astra…?"
Adam pondered for a moment, assessing the trust he had in Damián. "Astra is a dangerous criminal who needs to be stopped, but now is not the right time to discuss this. People are working on how to apprehend him."
At that moment, Lord Malcolm entered the library, interrupting the conversation between the two.
Damián felt it was time to leave and, as he did, gave Adam a brief hug, conveying his solidarity. However, before stepping away, Damián rose on tiptoe and sealed his lips with a brief kiss, a silent demonstration of affection for Adam. With that, Damián left them alone so that father and son could talk privately.