In the technologically advanced city of Alvaynia, Herculeana's life was once idyllic-until the weight of her past caught up with her. Forced to move to Egypt to conceal her pregnancy, Herculeana and her powerful family face a world of intrigue and c...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
James sat in his room, the cold glow of the holographic screen illuminating his face in a soft, pale light. He had been staring at it for hours now, letting the digital clock tick on unnoticed as his mind swirled with thoughts that weighed heavier than the air he breathed. It was late, well past midnight, but sleep didn't come easily to him anymore. Not since everything began to spiral out of his control.
The city outside buzzed with its usual hum of technological brilliance, but in James' room, it felt like a void. The walls were sleek, a symbol of his family's wealth, their influence. The luxury of his surroundings felt suffocating. It was a cage, polished and perfect, but a cage nonetheless.
His father's presence lingered in every corner of this house, despite the fact that he was never truly there. Malcolm Blackwood was a ghost—a powerful and menacing one—that loomed over James' life, shaping it even in his absence. James couldn't remember the last time they had a real conversation, one that wasn't about the game, or about his father's grand schemes.
Malcolm had a way of making everything about control. He had built his empire on it, on carefully orchestrating events that bent others to his will. He was a master manipulator, and James was just another pawn in his twisted games, whether he liked it or not.
For as long as James could remember, his father had viewed him as a tool—a means to an end. The sacrifices, the power, the immortality—it all hinged on the continuation of this dark ritual, and James was just another cog in the wheel. His father had never directly told him about the true purpose of the games, but James was smart. He had pieced together enough to understand that whatever was happening was far from innocent. His father never asked him to question it; he simply expected obedience.
But lately, James had begun to feel the cracks in the facade. His heart wasn't in it. The more his father pushed, the more he resisted internally. Yet, despite the growing resentment he felt, he couldn't break free from the chains his father had wrapped around him. He didn't know how.
James sighed, running his fingers through his dark hair, which was slightly disheveled from his constant tossing and turning. His phone buzzed on the nightstand beside him, pulling him from his thoughts. He glanced at the screen and saw the name he dreaded seeing—**Herculeana**. A knot tightened in his stomach.
She was back, and that was enough to throw his entire world into chaos. Herculeana had always been his greatest weakness, his one true regret. He had loved her, perhaps more than he had ever loved anyone. But that love had become twisted, corrupted by the very nature of their relationship and the dark secrets surrounding both of their families. He hadn't called her when she left for Egypt. He hadn't texted her. He had let her slip away, and now, after all this time, she was back, and the guilt gnawed at him like a relentless parasite.
He kept getting missed calls from Zael. Which he had been ignoring recently. He was ignoring everyone in his life, recently he just felt he couldn't trust anyone, not even women, who would always keep his company.
