Fragments Beneath His Silence
Two years ago, Amaya Bennett witnessed a murder.
A powerful man was killed in cold blood, right in front of her. She should have died that night too.
Instead, she woke up in a hospital with no memory of what happened. No faces, no names and no clues. Just fragments, blurred images that slip through her fingers every time she tries to hold on.
Now, Amaya lives a quiet life, piecing herself back together. She works part-time, avoids trouble, and stays invisible. Until she lands a job at Twilight Global.
A company owned by Jake Anderson, the cold and untouchable CEO whose father was murdered the same night Aria lost her memory. Jake spent years searching for the only witness. But she vanished without any trace. Or so he thought.
But somehow, they cross path again, working under his roof, completely unaware of the truth she carries.
The killer is still out there.
And when Amaya starts getting flashes of blood, a voice, a ring glinting under the dim light, the hunt begins again.
But this time, she's not alone. Because even before he realizes who she is... Jake has already started protecting her. In the most relentless and dangerous way.
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Chapter 6
The first at the company was hectic but went well anyway. Amaya faced weird encounters but stayed calm. By the second day, Amaya had settled into her routine. They were simple; Wake up, A quick breakfast, Head to the Bus station, Observe, and Work. The repeats everything again.
Though it wasn't perfect, it was enough to keep her grounded.
As usual, Amaya ushered herself into the morning. stood in her small kitchen, flipping a piece of bread in a pan. While her phone played soft music in the background. The warm and familiar smell of butter filled the space. Just the way she liked it.
Beside the counter, her notebook sat open, fillee with scribbled reminders: Reply to internal emails, learn filing system, and Ask about weekly reports.
On an impulse, she added one more. Stay out of trouble. A gentle reminder to keep her peace of mind.
Amaya paused after writing, staring at the words. "...Yeah," she muttered. But if only it were that easy.
.
.
.
In the next Thirty minutes, Amaya found herself walking through the doors of the company. But today, the office felt slightly less overwhelming.
She greeted the receptionist with a small nod as she strolled by, making her way up to her floor.
"Morning," Maya said, already at her desk asshe saw Amaya walking in.
"Morning." Amaya responded, now at her desk.
"Survived day one. That's impressive."
Amaya faintly smiled. "Barely."
Maya leaned back in her chair. "Just give it a week. I tell you, 'll start judging everyone else instead."
"I doubt that, though." Amaya said, setting her bag down as she organized her desk.
"Just wait." Maya answered, not ready to back down.
Amaya shrugged, a smile plastered on her face as she sat in her chain. Now facing her desktop as well as Maya.
Steadily, they got into work. First, organizing mails. To documents to sorting, then transferring calls. They were nothing complicated but required lots of attention.
In it all, Amaya found herself settling into it faster than she expected. It was just perfect for someone like her who liked structure. She liked knowing what comes next, as it keeps her thoughts from wandering.
Just until a voice interrupted. "Ms. Bennett."
Her shoulders instinctively tensed. She didn't need to look up to know who it was. But did anyway.
And truthfully, her intuition wasn't wrong. Daniel Reed stood beside her desk, polished and calm.
Watching her like it was his job.
"Mr. Reed," she said, keeping her tone professional.
He placed a file on her desk. "I need this delivered to the archives. Basement level."
Amaya glanced at it. "I can do that."
"Good." He nodded, but didn't leave immediately. He just stood there like he was... waiting for her to set off.
"Anything else?" she asked.
He smiled faintly. "No. That will be all." And with that, he finally walked away.
Once he was gone, Amaya slowly exhaled.Maya on the other hand, leaned over immediately. "Why does he keep coming to you?"
"I don't know," Amaya admitted, clearly confused as much as her coworker.
Maya frowned. "Just... be careful, okay? That's all I can say." Amaya nodded, but didn't ask why.
Because something told her she already knew the answer. Without hesitation, she jerked to her full length and headed for to get her assigned task done.
~~~
The basement level was colder and quieter than the rest of the building in Blooms Global. And hardly had visiting it. Especially the old staffs.
Amaya stepped out of the elevator, the soft hum of machinery echoing faintly in the distance. The rows of storage shelves lined the space. Filled with labeled boxes and old files. It was practically empty.
Her grip on the folder slightly tightened, as she carefully strolled in. Clearly on edge.
"Archives," she murmured, scanning the signs. "This way." She told herself.
Her heels clicked softly against the floor as she walked deeper inside. The air felt differently still. Like it was stagnant.
Amaya slowed as a strange feeling crept over her. Like she wasn't alone. lnstictively, she turned, but was met silence. Just the neatly arranged rows of shelves.
"...You're overthinking again," she whispered.
In that moment, found the correct section . Slightly, she crouched, pulling out a box to place the file inside. Her fingers brushed the cold metal edge of the shelf.
She slid the file in, and stood, about to leave. That's when she heard it. A faint sound from behind her. Deftly, Amaya turned but it was too late.
The heavy metal rack beside her suddenly tilted. Coming towards her in a fast speed.Her eyes widened. "Oh-!"
The world seem snap into motion as a hand quickly grabbed her arm. And pulled her back. In that instant, the rack crashed down where she had been standing just seconds before.
The loud and violent sound echoed through the entire basement. Amaya's heart slammed against her ribs as she stumbled backward, straight into someone's chest. Her breath caught.
For a second, she didn't move nor think. She just felt his firm and steady grip around her arm.
"...Watch where you stand." The voice came low and controlled.
Amaya froze, slowly turning towards him. She came face-to-face with him. And it was no other Lucien Blues. Up close, he was worse. Not too intimidating in a loud way. And niether aggressive.
Just still and sharp, like nothing escapes him.
Her breath hitched. "I-I didn't-" she started, already trying to release herself from his grip. But he didn't let her.
"You didn't check your surroundings," he cut in calmly. Not harsh or direct.
Amaya swallowed. "I was just-"
"Distracted." He concluded.
She faintly nodded. "...Yes."
His gaze held hers for a second longer, then finally released her. The loss of contact felt immediate and noticeable.
Aria stepped back slightly, steadying herself. "Thank you," she said.
But he didn't respond right away. Instead, his eyes shifted briefly to the fallen rack. Then back to her. His gaze calculative and assessing. She noticed mething unreadable flickered in his expression.
"Report this," he finally said. "And don't come down here alone again." He ordered, his tone clearly not a suggestion.
Amaya nodded. "Okay."
And that was enough to make the air between them, tight. Neither of them moved. Just the, footsteps echoed from the far end, approaching towards them.
"Sir?" Lucien's assistant called as he sighted them.
But Lucien didn't immediately look away from Amaya. And when he finally did, the moment broke.
"Handle it," he said, already turning away. And within a blink of an eye, he was gone. Just like that.
Amaya stood still, staring at the space he had just occupied. Her heart still racing from the impact of the moment, not just the accident. But something else. The one thing she couldn't explain.
Unbeknownst to her, someone stood in the silence, watching from behind a row of shelves. His expression darkened, cold and unimpressed.
"...Unfortunate," he murmured.
Because whatever happened, hadn't been an accident.
Back upstairs, Maya rushed over the moment Amaya returned. "What happened? We heard something crash!"
Amaya slowly exhaled . "A rack fell."
"Are you okay?!" Maya snapped.
"I'm fine."
"Thank God." She added.
But that wasn't all. Amaya had the urge to say more but hesitated. Unfortunately she wasn't one to keep things for herself.
"The CEO was there." She muttered
Maya's eyes widened. "What?!"
"He... pulled me out of the way." She whispered.
"Okay, that's not normal."
"I figured so." Amaya agreed.
Maya leaned closer. "He doesn't just show up in places like that."
Amaya slightly frowned."...Then why was he there?" She said, almost to herself.
Meanwhile, Lucien stood by his window again. But his mind wasn't on the city this time. It was on the basement. The timing, placement and intent. He was so sure that rack didn't fall by accident. It was made to fall.
His jaw tightened "Daniel Reed," he said to herself. But this time, there was no doubt.
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9.7
Clarissa rushed into a crowded nightclub for one simple reason: to save her wildly drunk best friend.
But her ruthless billionaire husband, Giovanny, was watching from the VIP room. After effortlessly ruining a man just for grabbing her wrist, Giovanny punished Clarissa for breaching their public image contract with an impossible curfew.
When she inevitably arrived back at his penthouse late, he didn't just yell. He forced her to her knees by his bathtub to wash his back, making her watch an explicit, humiliating video as punishment.
A sudden family medical emergency dragged them to his parents' estate. Still in her soaked, transparent dress and his misbuttoned shirt, Giovanny's mother caught them. She joyfully assumed they had been passionately intimate.
Instead of clearing her name, Giovanny pulled Clarissa close and lied to his mother's face.
"We are working very hard on the family's future, Mother."
He locked her in the guest suite, tossed a sheer silk nightgown on the bed, and literally shattered the tablet holding their "no-contact" prenuptial agreement. He then slapped a file against the window—he had secretly bought all her father's toxic debt.
Clarissa was terrified. They were supposed to be business allies bound by a strict contract. Why was he suddenly acting like a predator determined to own her body and soul?
"Give me an heir, or your father goes to federal prison," he whispered.
Stripped of all choices, Clarissa picked up the white silk. She would surrender tonight to save her family, but as his shadow swallowed her, she made a silent vow to survive this monster, and one day, tear his empire to the ground.
9.7
"Sign it. You're no woman if you can't give me an heir."
Niamh gave Marcus two years of her life, her unwavering loyalty, and her silent love. In return, the billionaire CEO served her divorce papers and a one-way ticket to the gutter.
Cast out into a rainy night with nothing but the clothes on her back and twelve dollars, Niamh’s story should have ended there.
Instead, she stumbled on a stranger in the rain.
In an attempt to save him, he kisses her senseless. He is the last Lycan King standing, and a man of terrifying power, yet he is haunted by a seven-century curse.
When the king has a taste of Niamh in the pouring rain, he knew he had to keep her for himself, even though she was human and it was against the laws of their kind not to mingle with humans.
The King needs her essence and Niamh realizes she could use her body to get what she wanted; revenge on Marcus and his mother for humiliating her and making her waste her time.
Now, the woman Marcus discarded is rising as a global conglomerate queen and a Divine Enchantress as assigned by the Moon Goddess.
While her ex-husband’s empire crumbles into bankruptcy and his body rots with a shameful curse, Niamh is learning that being "claimed" by the King is much more than the contract she'd initially made with him.
He wanted to use her as his cure. She wanted to use him for her revenge.
But in the Lumina Realm, the Goddess has other plans.
9.6
Haylie waited nervously at the Wall Street charity gala for her boyfriend Bryan, but a spiked drink hit her hard, leaving her stumbling into a VIP lounge.
There, Chester Steele, the ruthless CEO of Steele Industrial, found her—drugged and vulnerable. What started as a frantic claiming in the shadows ended with him whispering she was his.
But moments later, a security alert shattered everything: data breach traced to Haylie's terminal. Chester's fury exploded. He saw her brush past a Logan Group rival on footage and dumped her in the rain, firing her as a corporate spy.
Bryan answered her desperate call with ice: "It's over." Reporters swarmed her door, branding her a traitor. Arrested at the office by FBI agents, she watched smug coworker Erin wave goodbye.
Thrown in a cell, chained and grilled with fake evidence—offshore accounts in her name—Haylie learned the worst: charges now included her sick father, Ernest, framed for laundering the leak money. Plead guilty or he dies in prison.
Innocent and raging, she couldn't fathom who planted it all—the gala bump, the logs, the forgeries. Why her? Who hated her enough to destroy her life?
Chester burst in, posting unlimited bail but forcing her signature on a slave contract: live in his penthouse, serve him 24/7. As she collapsed in his arms, trapped in his gilded cage, Haylie vowed silently—she'd uncover the real traitor and make them pay.
7.2
Elmore Thomas rushed into the emergency room, clutching his feverish seven-year-old son, Buddy, tightly to his chest.
When the privacy curtain was pulled back, the air in Elmore's lungs vanished. The attending physician standing under the harsh lights was his wife, Kendal—the woman everyone believed had burned to death eight years ago.
But there was no tearful reunion. Kendal looked at him, and her eyes froze into impenetrable ice. She treated him like a biohazard, strictly referring to him as the family member.
Worse, she didn't recognize Buddy. She comforted their crying son with the same gentle warmth she used to reserve for Elmore, completely unaware she was soothing the baby she thought had died.
Days later, Elmore watched from the shadows as she picked up another boy outside a prep school, her left hand flashing a massive diamond engagement ring.
When his butler accidentally recognized her, Kendal shielded her new stepson with pure disgust in her eyes.
"Tell that psychopath to sign the divorce papers immediately. I have a new family now."
The words 'new family' echoed in Elmore's skull, tearing him apart. For eight years, he had lived in a hell of guilt and madness, raising their son in the shadow of her ghost. How could she just erase their past? How could she give her tender smiles to a stranger and look at him with absolute revulsion?
Standing in a luxury ballroom, Elmore squeezed his hand until his crystal champagne flute shattered, thick blood dripping onto the rug. The murderous obsession in his dark eyes returned as he called his lawyer.
"Freeze her divorce application. Use every dirty trick in the book. She isn't leaving."
7.6
I was once the untouchable heiress to the Schroeder empire, until a corporate fraud conviction stripped away my life and threw me into federal prison for five brutal years.
On the day of my release, I stepped out into the freezing rain only to realize I had been utterly abandoned by everyone I loved.
My family sent no one. My former best friends blocked my number, and high-society women took photos of my shivering, pathetic state for laughs. To survive, I made a desperate deal to act as the fake fiancée of Kayden Washington, a ruthless, disgraced billionaire fighting his own blood. But the moment we joined forces, the nightmare escalated. Our safehouse was ransacked, we were hunted by tactical hitmen in the dark, and my adoptive brother stole my dead mother's diary just to bribe me into leaving New York forever. Worse, the digital trail of my framing traced back to a top-tier operative manipulating both our families from the shadows.
I didn't understand why my own family had sacrificed me like a worthless pawn to ignite a massive, invisible war. What dark secret was I actually taking the fall for?
Just as Kayden and I prepared to burn both empires to the ground, a mysterious courier dropped a package at my door. Inside rested the Schroeder Patriarch's solid gold ring—the ultimate symbol of absolute power—sent directly to me, the disgraced exile.
"They took your past, but I will give you the power to forge a new future."
The game hadn't just changed. The board had been flipped, and I was going back to take the throne.
9.0
Seventeen years after going missing, Brooklyn was finally brought back to her ultra-wealthy biological family.
But instead of a tearful reunion, her parents and sisters treated her like infectious garbage, mocking her cheap clothes and calling her a country bumpkin.
They dumped her into a remedial class to hide her away, cut off her allowance, and threatened to lock down her trust fund to force her into absolute submission.
One night, Brooklyn stood in the shadows of the estate and overheard a conversation that shattered everything.
She hadn't wandered off as a child.
Her parents had deliberately thrown her away because a fake fortune teller claimed her birth chart was a jinx to the family's wealth.
They felt zero remorse, only plotting to banish her again the moment she turned eighteen.
Her biological father thought he was putting a leash on a helpless, uneducated girl by cutting off her pocket change.
He had no idea that Brooklyn was the anonymous VIP who casually dropped sixty million dollars on an emerald at the city's most exclusive auction.
He didn't know she was the elusive medical genius that the world's most powerful billionaires were currently tearing the city apart to find.
The last microscopic shred of hope for a family withered into cold ash in her chest.
"Lock down my trust fund?"
She pulled out her encrypted phone and activated her shadow networks, severing herself entirely from their pathetic surveillance.
Since they believed she was a jinx, she was going to show them exactly what a real curse looked like.