They returned home, The golden hour of Pinewoods had surrendered to a deep, crimson evening, Inside the Hayes household, the air was thick with the scent of detergent and the comforting hum of a life reclaimed from the ashes.
Emma stood at the kitchen sink, her hands submerged in warm, foamy water. She wasn't just washing dishes; she was performing a ritual of gratitude.
she hummed a low, melodic song ,she swayed her hips slightly. After years of looking over her shoulder as a struggling single mother, the weight of the world had finally been lifted by the sturdy shoulders of the man in the other room.
The dim lamplight made the bedroom feel unbearably comfortable as Leo sat on the edge of Zia's bed. his silhouette casting a shadow across the wall
Leo made his face dead serious,
telling zia het bedtime story ,He wasn't just reading a story; he was performing it.
"Once, in a land of endless green," Leo's voice dropped to a gravelly whisper,
"there was a wolf. But this wasn't an ordinary wolf. He lived in a densely packed farm, surrounded by hundreds of fluffy, white sheep. The sheep... they thought he was their friend. They grazed beside him, slept beside him. You see, the wolf had grown up on the farm. He learned to stay calm like them, walk like them. He relied on the farmer for food, just like they did."
Leo paused, his eyes unfocused, staring past Zia at the wall. "The wolf forgot the shape of his own teeth. forgot the length of his own claws. He forgot the song of the moon... He forgot who he was."
Zia, tucked herself under the blanket, frowned. Her sharp eyes narrowed.
She intrupted the story. "But Papa! You told me last week that wolves are the bravest animals in the wild. They are apex predators. Why would a wolf behave like a sheep just because he lived there? Genes are stronger than habits, aren't they?"
Leo blinked, the darkness on his face replaced by a look of genuine surprise. He looked at his daughter, realizing with a pride that she was growing too smart for simple story. He smoothed her hair back, his touch gentle.
"Sweetie, it's not just about wolves. Reality is harder than books.
—Those who have faced the great storms are always stronger than those who only fear the rain. But the wolf's mistake wasn't being kind; it was relying on someone else to survive. Never rely on the hand that feeds you, Zia. Rely on the strength in your own chest."
Zia's eyes sparkled with an intensity that mirrored her. "But Dad... what if? What if the wolf knows he's supposed to be a king, that it has the potential for wildness? Does it just... pretend forever?"
"It depends on the species, little bird. Some wolves try to save the sheep and become their guardians. Some... some realize they were meant to be the foe." Leo replied
"Okay, enough philosophy for one night," Leo whispered. He stood up, stretching his arms high above his head, a long yawn escaping him. He realized Emma had asked him to put Zia to sleep twenty minutes ago.
He kissed Zia's forehead. "Goodnight, smarty-pants."
"Goodnight, Papa."
Leo slipped out of the room, closing the door until it was just a crack. He exhaled, the tension of the day leaving his shoulders.
Then he realized that he had stayed too long. Emma had given him a strict deadline to get Zia down so they could celebrate their quiet, hard-won anniversary.
He walked down the hallway toward the kitchen. As he reached for the door handle, his instincts screamed. He felt a presence on the other side. An unimaginable danger.
He threw the door open, and instead of a romantic candlelit scene, he was met with a blur of movement.
CRACK. A fist flew at his face.
It wasn't a lethal blow, but it wasn't soft either. It hit his cheek like a heavy hammer.
"Hey!" Leo stumbled back, grabbing his stinging, numb cheek. "Why the hell did you do that?"
Emma stood there, hands on her hips, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and hurt. She looked beautiful, even in her anger.
"It's been an hour, you moron!" she hissed, though she kept her voice low to not wake Zia.
"But there you were, giving Zia a philosophy lecture while the ice cream melted and the wine got warm, It's our anniversary! You promised me a special treat, a night for us
but you're in there treating Zia like she's the only person in this house."
Leo straightened up, with a prideful smile tugging at his lips. "She's a child, Emma. She deserves the care."
Leo stepped forward, his presence filling the kitchen. "You know why you married me? You only let me in because Zia liked me first. You wanted a father for her, and I fit the mold."
"I know that," Emma hissed, though her anger was melting into a pouting grin. "But I want to be noticed too." She turned her gaze to somewhere
Leo looked her ,like he pleased her
"Don't look at me like that," Emma said, her grin returning, though it was edged with a lustful challenge. "Whatever excuse you have, it won't work. I know you love her. But I want to be noticed, too."
Leo blinked, the adrenaline fading into guilt. Leo looked at her. He saw the woman who had suffered more than he ever had.
Emma, a graduate from a wealthy family who had fallen from grace, who had worked double shifts, starved herself to feed her daughter, and faced the terror of single parenthood with nobility. She wanted to be seen. Not just as a mother, or a wife, but as Emma.
He grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him. He hugged so tight it felt like they were trying to merge into one person. Their breaths mingled—long, heavy, and hot. When their eyes met, the playful bickering vanished.Their eyes met, locking in a silent exchange of apology and devotion—They kissed!
It wasn't a soft. It was deep, hungry, and desperate. It was a kiss that tasted of the years they had survived, the hardships Emma had endured, and the secrets Leo kept. It was a thousand kisses they had shared before, yet completely new.
They were so lost in each other, so wrapped in the heat of the moment, that they forgot the door was open.
"Daddy? What are you doing to Mommy?"
The chirped voice shattered the moment. Leo and Emma broke apart, their faces instantly blushing into a deep crimson. Zia stood in the doorway, rubbing her eyes, clutching a teddy bear.
Leo cleared his throat, his composure returning instantly. "Nothing, sweetie. Just... explaining the story to Mommy."
He walked over, lofted Zia up in his arms, and kissed her soundly on the cheek, carrying her back to bed. When he returned to the master bedroom, Emma was already waiting. The anger was gone, replaced by a soft, inviting warmth. Leo joined her
At the same time(13-jan/2027)
A royal fresh perfume was flavoured the whole in a glass villa, it's located in a densed isolated woods, the polished marbles that replicates the richness of an palace
There stood kenzo, besides him riku mori sat along in bed with his head down—riku looked like a noble calm person unlike his father, he had a body of wellbuilt and stood nearly five'-seven",
"You are now the head of Heavens & Sins. No one can make a syndicate run on kindness. It is a blessing to be a president, but it's a curse if you are weak."
Riku looked down at his hands. His face was twisted in anger, he was boiling beneath the surface, but he swallowed it. "I'm sorry, Dad. I won't do that again. It was just an excuse."
Kenzo turned slowly, his eyes hard as flint. "You need to be ruthless. You are exactly like your mother—soft. Soft until her last breath. That softness gets people killed."
The insult to his mother stung, but Riku remained silent.
Kenzo was a Japanese yakuza, driven by pride and ambition. At thirty-four, he married Riku's mother as part of a dangerous bet with a Chinese syndicate. It was never about love—only power—and Kenzo hated the marriage from the start.
As the years passed, that hatred hardened. He kept his distance from both his wife and his son, believing attachment was a weakness a man like him could not afford.
Now twenty-seven, Riku stands in a place few ever reach—inside Kenzo's inner circle. Not because he was guided or protected, but because he earned it.
Kenzo never acknowledged him as a son, only as someone useful. His pride kept him from interfering, allowing Riku to rise on his own and act as a general among the executives.
The door opened, and Jade entered. He was a capable man, usually composed, but tonight he looked pale.
"What about the drive?" Kenzo asked sharply.
"We... we can't retrieve it, sir," Jade stammered, fear creeping into his voice.
"What? It's been 6 year's when the motherfucked corrupted the drive" Kenzo's calm facade cracked.
"That psycho Vane and his team... I already told them to catch Zero alive!"
Kenzo roared.
"They killed him and made an excuse of misfortune! Those five executives... they are only useful as shields, but they are incompetent fools!"
Zero. The name hung in the air. The best hacker the syndicate had ever seen. The man who had supposedly died in the hands of vane, taking the secrets of the organization with him into the abyss.
Kenzo grabbed his coat. "To the server room. Now."
In a private bar, a team of elite hackers was sweating profusely. Monitors flashed with many floating windows.
"Why is this so slow?" Kenzo barked, slamming his hand on a desk.
"He hacked this system with three years of experience! You people have degrees from the best universities in the world. Crack it!"
One of the senior hackers, a young man shaking in his chair, looked up. "I'm sorry, Sir. It's not just a password. The virus... it's a loop. It creates a random, encrypted password layer every time we try to bypass the previous one. The virus is embedded inside the folder itself. It's an unfinished masterpiece sir, we can't do anything",
"Then how do we retrieve the data?" Kenzo shouted, his face purple with bursting anger.
"The encryption has crossed 1,120,000 layers, Sir. We... we can't do anything. We are trying our best."
Kenzo was about to strike the man when his phone rang. The sound cut through the room like a gunshot.
He looked at the caller ID. His face went from red to a sickly pale white. He answered, his voice trembling.
"Yes?"
The voice on the other end was female, professional, and terrifyingly cold. It was the Personal Assistant to the head of the Shizuku Group—the shadow power behind the Heavens & sins.
"Mr. Kenzo," she said. "We are waiting for the update on the hard drive. The contract involving the Shizuku Group and the Pantheon Syndicate. We need it."
"I... we are working on it," Kenzo stammered, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"There are complications."
"Listen closely," the PA said, her voice dropping an octave. "If you want your branch to exist... if you want you to exist... retrieve that contract. We don't care about your internal squabbles. We don't care about Zero. We need the contract. Do not fail us."
The line went dead. A chill spread down Kenzo's spine, freezing him in place. He looked at the screen, at the 1,120,000 layers of encryption designed by a dead man.
He turned to the hackers, his eyes wide with genuine terror.
"FIND SOMEONE!" Kenzo screamed at the room.
"Find anyone who was talented like him! Because if that drive doesn't open, we are all dead men!"