Alex stepped into the elegant living room, the soft click of his shoes echoing against the marble floor. He paused when he saw her—his mother, Evelyn Walton, sitting gracefully on the cream-colored couch, a cup of untouched tea in her hand.
"Hey, Mom," Alex said, surprised. "You're home, were you waiting for me sitting at the living room alone."
Evelyn looked up with a warm smile that didn't quite mask the concern in her eyes. "Yes I really missed my Son, so how are you doing at work? I don't see you home as often these days. I suppose that means you're very busy, hmm?" Her voice was gentle, laced with both pride and worry. "but just don't forget to rest in between, alright?"
Alex scratched the back of his neck and walked over, sitting beside her. "Uh, it's fine, Mom. Really. I'm really managing myself well… nothing to worry about."
Then, he glanced at her, his voice softening. "But what about you? We haven't spent much time together lately."
A flicker of regret passed through his eyes as memories surfaced—lazy Sunday afternoons baking together during weekends, late-night chats when Elena came over with milk and cookies when he was studying hard for exams, the warmth of her hugs after a long tiring day. Those moments had faded as his world grew larger and more demanding. Somewhere along the line, they have started to spent less time together… something that would always bring him warmth and happiness that he rarely gets to feel these days.
"I miss those times," he admitted, his voice quiet, almost vulnerable.
Evelyn reached out and placed her hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You're building your future, Alex. I understand. But don't forget… no matter how busy life gets, the heart always has room for the people we love, I will be always there for you." she hugged Alex with her warm motherly embrace.
Alex hugged her back her like he used to do, when he was a kid, nodding slowly i missed this feeling.
And in that quiet living room, under the golden light of the chandelier, mother and son seperated and sat side by side—reconnecting, if only for a moment.
Evelyn let the silence linger for a few seconds before speaking again, her tone light but observant.
"So… how's it going with Elena?" she asked, glancing sideways at her son. "She always talks about you when I see her. Quite fondly, I might add."
Alex leaned back against the sofa, a tired breath escaping his lips. "You know there's nothing going between Elena and me, Mom."
Evelyn gave a small chuckle, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "You young people… always so complicated." She waved her hand, as if brushing away the topic. "Alright, let it be. You're old enough to handle your own private life—I won't interfere in your business."
But even as she said it, Evelyn's gaze lingered on him for a moment longer. Anyone could see how Elena looked at Alex—how deeply she cared, how clearly she staked her claim. And Evelyn, with her years of grace and quiet wisdom, had noticed it all. She had also noticed that her son never looked back at Elena quite the same way as she does.
She rose from the couch, smoothing her dress. "I'll head to bed now. Don't stay up too late."
Alex watched her leave, his expression unreadable. He knew Elena's feelings… and he also knew they were not returned. But some things were easier left unsaid—for now.
After seeing his mother retire for the night, Alex made his way to his room. He tossed his blazer onto the couch, unbuttoned his shirt, and changed into more comfortable loungewear. The warm light from his desk lamp cast a soft glow over the minimalist, sleek interior of the room.
Settling down at his workstation, he pulled open his laptop and immersed himself in reviewing files for his latest project that he talked about his friend Alex it was something that he must really succeed. Just as he began to type, his phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
He frowned slightly, hesitated for a second, then accepted the call.
"Hello. Who's speaking?" he asked, his tone neutral but alert.
A distorted, deep voice crackled through the line. "Hello, Alex Walton. I see your business is booming. Success looks good on you. And I am really happy for you and really… I mean it."
Alex's jaw tensed. He didn't like cryptic games, especially not from unknown strangers. "Cut the drama and get to the point. I don't believe we know each other well enough to be having this chat."
The voice chuckled—slow, mocking. "Ah, straight to the point. I like that. Shame we couldn't be friends under different circumstances, we could he could friends a really good friend."
There was a brief pause. Then
"So let me get to the point as you wanted. I am calling on behalf of a… cause. You know feeding my poor and starving brothers, my gang members, that is. So, how about a generous donation from the mighty Walton heir, I am sure that won't put a dent on your family's 500 billion dollar company, so why don't you take some pity on us brothers than maybe we can still be good friends, like I always wanted. So Mr. Alex Walton let's be friends what do you say?"
Alex's eyes darkened. His voice turned cold and he just replied in his most direct tone. "Don't scam-call me again. Next time, if I ever get such calls than the police will be the ones calling you...at jail."
He hung up without waiting for a reply and immediately blocking the number.
A heavy silence filled the room. Whatever motivation that kept him working had vanished.
Without a word, Alex stood up, walked over to the bed, and lay down to get some rest. His mood was totally ruined with that unknown call.
Ina different location : Underground hideout –
In a dimly lit, foul-smelling room cluttered with empty beer cans, broken furniture, and dusty wine bottles, a hulking man with a scar running down his cheek ended his call and lowered the phone slowly.
Three men lounged behind him—his gang. All reeked of sweat, alcohol and smoke.
One of them, lean and twitchy, idly ran a fingertip along the edge of his dagger, licking his lips with a sick grin.
"So?" he asked. "Did the rich boy bite? How much is he paying us?"
The leader didn't turn. His voice was low and cold.
"He hung up the phone. And blocked the number too."
There was a beat of silence before another thug, the stockiest of the group, snorted.
"Arrogant prick. So what now, boss?"
The leader finally turned around, eyes gleaming under the weak, flickering bulb overhead.
"We wait," he said slowly, savoring each word. "We wait for the perfect time... then we grab that motherfucker. Kidnap him. Real clean. Real quiet."
The third gang member—a wiry man with yellowing teeth—laughed darkly.
"Bet his fancy family'll cough up at least a hundred million for their only heir. The Waltons won't risk losing their golden boy."
The leader smirked, lighting a cigarette.
"Exactly. A fat little lamb like that doesn't walk through this city without wolves watching, and sometimes they needs to be slaughtered for feeding hungry wolves."
Hahahaha....!!! The room filled with the sound of cruel laughter, echoing off the concrete walls.