Inside his room, Braddy exploded in a storm of rage.
The sound of shattering objects echoed violently, blending with the cries he could no longer suppress.
The mirror on the wall burst into pieces, shards of glass scattering like sharp rain, reflecting fragments of his face—twisted with anger and humiliation.
A table lamp crashed onto the floor, its light dying instantly, leaving only the dim yellow glow of the hanging lamp swaying slowly from the force of his outburst.
His breathing was ragged.
Sweat dripped from his temples onto the floor, now littered with scattered papers, empty bottles, and clothes.
The room looked like a wrecked ship—chaotic, directionless.
Braddy lowered his head, staring at his trembling hands.
Beneath the raging anger, there was something heavier—disappointment in himself.
He punched the wall again, but this time without strength.
His hand fell limply to his side.
“I don’t want to be seen as a failure…” he muttered, almost like a broken whisper.
He knew exactly how Celestine saw him—a young man who couldn’t even handle a simple task, someone who had ruined everything.
But deep inside, guilt churned relentlessly.
Was he really supposed to make others suffer just to prove his worth to his mother?
Flora’s face flashed in his mind.
She was innocent.
She should never have become a victim of Celestine’s ambition—or Peter’s selfish obsession.
Braddy sank to the floor, his gaze empty as it swept over the wreckage of his room.
He rubbed his face roughly, inhaled deeply, then slowly rose to his feet.
After a long moment of silence, a decision formed in his mind.
“I have to see Theresia again,” he said quietly.
“I need to know what’s really going on.”
But uncertainty lingered in his chest.
He didn’t know what he would say when the time came.
Would he apologize?
Or simply confirm that everything hadn’t completely fallen apart?
With trembling hands, he picked up his phone and dialed Jackson’s number.
The line rang a few times before a deep voice answered.
“Yeah, Braddy?”
“Go home tonight. We’ll continue tomorrow,” Braddy said flatly.
“Tomorrow, to Flora’s house?” Jackson asked.
“Yes. To Flora’s house.”
Without waiting for a reply, Braddy ended the call.
He grabbed a bottle from the table and took a long drink.
The burning sensation in his throat forced his eyes shut for a moment, as if trying to erase everything he had done.
That night, he fell asleep in a restless haze of alcohol, haunted by faces he could not forget.
The next morning, a gloomy sky blanketed the city.
Heavy clouds hung low, as if time itself was holding its breath.
Braddy, Jackson, Jay, and Reggy arrived at Theresia’s house.
The air felt damp and cold, carrying the scent of wet soil and unspoken tension.
Theresia appeared at the door, her face pale and exhausted, her eyes swollen from crying.
Her clothes were wrinkled, her hair disheveled.
“I truly didn’t know Flora had planned to run away,” she said hoarsely.
“Please believe me. I only found out from you.”
Braddy stood silently at the doorway, staring at her.
No words came out.
His expression was calm, but inside, turmoil raged.
He stood at a crossroads between duty and conscience.
Jackson stepped forward, his gaze sharp and unyielding.
“We were trusted directly by the Boss,” he said firmly.
“And we are responsible for that trust. So we need you to help us find Flora—by any means necessary.”
Theresia lowered her head, her hands trembling.
“Y-yes… I’ll help. But I really don’t know where to start.”
Jay cut in quickly, his tone sharp.
“Call your relatives. Nephews, cousins—anyone. With their help, we can find her faster.”
Theresia nodded hurriedly, though fear filled her eyes.
She glanced toward the inner room, as if searching for something.
At that moment, a young man stepped out—wearing a blue jacket and carrying a backpack.
Felix, Flora’s older brother.
“Wait,” Reggy said, eyeing him.
“You’re Flora’s brother, right?”
Felix stopped, confused.
“Yes… but I’m heading to campus. What’s going on?”
Jackson stepped forward, his face unreadable.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
“What do you mean?” Felix’s voice rose, tension thickening the air.
Jackson glanced briefly at his companions before saying quietly, “Collateral.”
“Collateral?” Felix stepped back—but Reggy had already grabbed his arm.
“Sorry. This is temporary,” Reggy said coldly.
Felix struggled.
“Let me go! Who do you think you are!?”
Jackson moved swiftly, twisting Felix’s arm behind his back with practiced precision.
Felix cried out in pain.
Theresia covered her mouth, letting out a hysterical scream.
“Find a rope,” Jackson ordered.
Reggy rushed to the kitchen and returned with an old rope.
They tied Felix’s hands behind his back.
Jay tore a cloth and forced it into Felix’s mouth to silence him.
“No! Please don’t hurt my son!” Theresia cried, tears streaming down her face.
Jackson looked at her coldly.
“We won’t hurt him. He’s just insurance while you find Flora. Cooperate, and everything will be fine.”
Theresia nodded frantically, her body trembling.
She watched helplessly as her son was dragged into a room, the door locked from the outside.
Her sobs filled the house.
Braddy stood in the corner, watching in silence.
His eyes glistened.
Inside him, a fierce conflict raged.
Every passing second felt heavier than the last.
“That’s enough,” he finally said, his voice low.
“We don’t need to make things worse.”
Jackson turned to him.
“Have you forgotten who gave the orders? We’re not here to argue. If we fail again, Celestine won’t hesitate to sacrifice all of us.”
The tension thickened.
Jay and Reggy exchanged uneasy glances, while Theresia fumbled with her phone, her trembling hands nearly dropping it.
“H-hello… it’s me, Theresia,” she said shakily.
“Please… I need your help. Find Flora. Wherever she is… she’s in danger.”
Braddy stepped outside, lighting a cigarette.
The cold morning air cut through him.
From inside, he could still hear Theresia’s sobs, Jackson’s footsteps pacing, and the faint clink of a locked door.
He closed his eyes.
Flora’s face appeared again—afraid, confused, yet strong.
He remembered how she had looked at him—not with hatred, but disappointment.
“I can’t keep doing this…” he whispered.
“Mother has lost her mind. And I’m worse if I keep following her.”
The sky darkened further.
Wind began to howl, shaking the trees.
Birds scattered, as if sensing an approaching storm.
Braddy stepped back inside.
The tension in the living room felt like a spark waiting to explode.
Then—
A loud crash came from Felix’s room.
Braddy turned sharply.
“What was that?!”
Reggy rushed to unlock the door.
But as soon as it opened—Felix was gone.
The window stood wide open, curtains fluttering wildly in the wind.
“He escaped!” Reggy shouted.
Jackson immediately pulled a gun from his jacket and ran outside.
Braddy followed.
In the backyard, only muddy footprints remained, leading to a broken wooden fence.
Felix had escaped.
Jackson kicked over a trash can in frustration.
“Damn it! We have to find him before he goes to the police!”
Braddy looked at him, his voice shaking.
“Enough, Jack.
This has gone too far.”
“Too far?” Jackson snapped.
“Do you think Celestine will let us live if everything comes out?”
Silence.
The wind carried the scent of rain.
Braddy said nothing.
Deep down, he knew Jackson was right—and yet, also wrong.
They were all trapped in a game they could no longer control.
Theresia appeared at the doorway, her face pale.
“You’ve destroyed my family,” she said quietly but sharply.
“If anything happens to my son, you’ll regret it.”
Braddy lowered his gaze.
He wanted to say something—but no words were enough.
Rain began to fall.
Droplets struck the roof like a ticking clock growing faster.
And in that rain, Braddy realized one thing—
There was no turning back anymore.