In the heart of New York City, Jacob Daniel leads a seemingly normal life, running a café near Central Park with his closest friends, Sam and Katie. But when Katie's boss is found murdered and the FBI pulls her into a high-stakes investigation, the...
The night of the Gala was a spectacle. New York’s elite gathered on the red carpet, photographers flashing, capturing every moment of grandeur. Celebrities, influencers, and politicians walked under the glow of camera lights, mingling like characters in a well-rehearsed play. Jake, Cynthia, Lisa, and Sam waited backstage, surrounded by David and a few board members, bracing themselves for the evening ahead.
Jake felt a familiar tension settling over him, tempered only by the thrill of what he was about to reveal. He’d selected each photograph with care, wanting to present New York not just as a city, but as a living story. In each frame, he’d captured something raw, a slice of life that held personal meaning.
As they proceeded to the photo area, several photographers spotted Jake and immediately perked up, calling his name with excitement. While he posed for a few shots, Cynthia joined him, slipping into place beside him with an effortless grace. Together, they lit up the photo area, their chemistry drew murmurs from the crowd. Even Lisa, watching from the sidelines, couldn’t help but whistle playfully at the two of them, laughing as Jake shot her an amused look.
The host introduced the Roscoe board, and Cynthia, shimmering in her custom gown, took the stage alongside her father, mother, and the other members. After each board member addressed the crowd, it was David’s turn. He took the mic, scanning the room before he began. “Good evening, everyone. It’s wonderful to see so many of you here tonight.”
He spoke warmly about the impact of Roscoe Developments on the city, highlighting their work in housing, supporting the homeless, and community outreach. As he spoke, the crowd listened intently. Finally, he paused, his gaze shifting to Cynthia with a smile.
“I started in this industry when I was 22,” he said, “and now, it’s time to pass the torch and watch something new and exciting take shape. So tonight, it’s my honor to introduce the next CEO of Roscoe Developments—my daughter, Cynthia.”
The crowd burst into applause, and a stunned Cynthia looked around, overwhelmed. Jake, Lisa, and Sam were equally astonished, their faces lighting up with pride for her. David and Hellen took Cynthia’s hands, lifting them to acknowledge the audience’s cheers.
David then continued, “Now that I’ve entrusted Roscoe Development's to my daughter, it’s time for my own next chapter. I’ve always believed in giving back, and now, I want to do more. So, here tonight, in front of all of you, I’m officially announcing my run for Mayor.”
The room erupted in applause, and as David received hugs from Cynthia and Hellen, he looked out at the crowd. “Thank you all for being here tonight. We’ll be moving to the gallery for the auction shortly—enjoy the evening!” He flashed a peace sign, and the cheers grew louder.
Once the crowd settled into the great hall, the host introduced Jake to the audience. “Many of you may know Jacob Daniel as the talented photographer and writer behind some of New York’s most evocative images. Tonight, he brings us a glimpse of the city like no other.”
The host invited him to the stage to speak. Jake took the mic, scanning the crowd with a calm intensity.
“Good evening, everyone. Thank you all for being here tonight. A special thanks to David, Hellen, and Cynthia for this opportunity—it’s an honor.”
He paused, letting the room settle into the moment. “What you’ll see tonight are snapshots of New York as it truly is. Each image is raw, unfiltered, and tells its own story. Some are quiet, others loud, but every one of them reflects something real, something deeply connected to me and to this city. I hope you’ll find yourself in these moments as well. So please—enjoy.”
The applause swelled, and from backstage, Lisa, Sam, and Cynthia whooped and cheered for Jake. As the viewing opened, David began introducing Jake to some of the city’s most influential figures, and Cynthia lingered nearby, her eyes fixed on Jake with a look that said she had something on her mind.
When the auction began, bids skyrocketed. Most pieces were quickly fetching over $75,000, and the excitement was palpable. Finally, the last item—a striking portrait of Anna, the only portrait in the entire display—was unveiled. Bidding erupted, with each call escalating rapidly as the audience competed for a piece so clearly brimming with sentiment. After nearly ten minutes of heated bidding, David stepped in, calling $250,000 and claiming the portrait.
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The room quieted as David approached Jake, pulling him in for a photograph together, a tribute to a shared vision in that single moment.
As the camera flash went off, David leaned close. “That’s a powerful piece, Jacob,” he said. “Why don’t you go upstairs and put it in my office? There’s a room labeled ‘Aphrodite.’ Just place it there.”
The words echoed in Jake’s mind, and a chill crept up his spine. He felt a shift—something almost unnatural. Aphrodite. He thought of the text message, and his pulse quickened. David gestured toward the executive elevator, and, feeling a numbness settle over him, Jake took the portrait and stepped inside.
As the elevator ascended, Jake’s thoughts raced. Could David be tied to Oizys? Was this all a twisted game? The doors opened to David’s office, and he walked in, taking in the expensive décor, every detail carefully chosen. His eyes fell on the room marked Aphrodite. He entered cautiously, scanning the walls and shelves. And there, in a corner, he saw it—a statue of Aphrodite, positioned beside an even smaller statue of Oizys.
Jake’s hands went cold, and his mind spun with disbelief. He’d trusted David, and had been welcomed into his home. But now, everything felt warped, every moment spent with David suddenly tinged with hidden intentions. Trembling, he took out his phone and dialed Alexandra.
“Jacob, missing me at the party?” Alexandra’s playful tone held a sarcastic edge.
“Alexandra, listen carefully,” Jake said, his voice low and tense. “Go grab my laptop from the room immediately.”
“What’s wrong?” Alexandra asked, sensing the urgency in his voice.
“Just do it,” Jake replied.
Moments later, Alexandra confirmed she had it. “All right, got it.”
“Open the file called ‘Nebula.’”
“It’s asking for a code.”
“Type this: RSC-N3bul@.”
There was a pause on the line, then Alexandra spoke, her voice shaken.
“Oh mon Dieu! Jacob… these files… it’s on Cynthia’s dad.. David Roscoe.. he is Nebula.”
Jake froze, disbelief hardening into anger as a whirlwind of memories surged through him. Every shared laugh, every piece of advice, every moment he’d trusted David, Hellen, and Cynthia replayed with a sinister edge he hadn’t seen before. How could he have been so blind? Rage pulsed through him, mingling with a deep sense of betrayal—David, the man he’d admired, now unmasked as the head of something monstrous. Jake clenched his fists, a searing focus settling over him.
He knew exactly what he had to do; it was no longer a question of if, only of when.
