godstimecebuka

The hallway was silent—too silent. Ethan’s boots stopped just inches from the door.

Rusted chains coiled across the frame like a warning. Dried blood—maybe human, maybe not—streaked downward in crooked smears.

He stared at it, not blinking. His chest tightened. Twenty years, and they’d never mentioned this door.

“Why?” he whispered.

The echo didn’t answer.

Behind him, someone shifted nervously. “Your father said... if you ever opened it, he’d end his own life.”

Ethan didn't move. The old wood looked like it might breathe.

A part of him wanted to walk away. Another part—the one they tried to exile—was already reaching for the chain.
********************

     Years ago, his family forced him into exile, giving no explanation—only urgency. And now, back in Virginia, after all this time, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from that door.
     His parents acted like nothing had changed. They still expected obedience. They wanted him to bend to their will, to get involved in power games between Mafia factions—just to protect their place in the hierarchy.
But Ethan wasn’t the same boy they sent away.
---

Will he defy his family to uncover the dark truth hidden behind that door?

The Most Of It

An old, dust-caked salon car sat in the shadows of a run-down motel on the outskirts of Abidjan. The neon sign flickered erratically above the entrance, casting a sickly yellow glow over the cracked pavement.

Her clothes clung to her in patches, stained dark with dried blood. Her breaths came sharp and uneven. The receptionist barely looked up. Cindy didn't wait—she grabbed the key off the desk and disappeared down the corridor like a ghost with purpose.

Inside the room, she peeled her jacket off slowly, wincing as torn skin clung to fabric. Bruises had bloomed like shadows on her ribs. In the bathroom, she turned the tap. Cold water stung as it hit the gash on her side. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the first-aid box.

The phone buzzed. Again. And again.

She picked up on the fifth vibration. Her voice was a whisper, hoarse. "Hello?"

"Cindy, have you finally reached Abidjan?" Edward's voice was warm, too warm for the state she was in. There was a kind of desperation behind it.

"Yes, Edward. Ah…" She gasped softly, the needle slipping as she pressed it into her skin.

"Yeah… I guess. Just a little accident…"

"Huh? Come on, don't be so bothered. I just… hurt my arm. By mistake." Her voice faltered at the lie.

"Cindy… I hope nothing happened."

She closed her eyes. "Nothing, Edward."

The line went dead before she could respond.

Cindy sat still for a moment, the phone resting against her chest. Then she stood, walked outside into the cool evening air. The wind caught the tears as they slipped down her face.

She stared out at the horizon, her voice breaking the silence.

"Don Emilio, watch out I'm coming for you."

Her fists clenched. Her eyes burned with something deeper than pain, vengeance!

"You won't get away with it. I swear, I'll tear your kingdom to the ground."

Royal's Hospital inc

The room was quiet, save for the rhythmic beeping of a heart monitor. Don Emilio lay motionless, pale and still beneath a tangle of tubes and wires. His face, usually hard and calculating, now looked small—almost human.

Maxwell sat by his side, elbows on knees, staring at the old man as if he might open his eyes and give orders any second.

"Mr. Maxwell." The doctor stepped in, his tone measured. "I'm sorry to tell you this…"

Maxwell's back straightened. "What happened, doctor?"

"The heart attack was severe. If it happens again… I don't think he'll survive it." He handed Maxwell a folded paper. "These are precautions we need to take."

Maxwell nodded, eyes unreadable. "Thank you, doctor."

As the door clicked shut behind him, he turned his gaze back to Don Emilio. Thoughts swirled behind his calm exterior.

Mrs. Calotte wouldn't forgive easily. Not after everything. If Emilio confessed to Ethan, maybe, just maybe there was a sliver of hope. But Ethan… he was broken too.

Maxwell chuckled suddenly, a cold, bitter sound that didn't reach his eyes.

"Don't worry, Dad. Whatever happens, your secrets are safe with me." He smiled, the kind of smile that could kill.

Coming For You