Silent Break, 80.

In his impulsive decision, Mason left Wilson Mansion without a word of farewell. His destructive act, reducing Can-Bey's precious motorcycle to a pile of wreckage, echoed like a cry of rebellion reverberating within the walls of the luxurious residence. The narrative now shifts to the mansion, where the impact exposition unfolds.

The atmosphere in Wilson Mansion becomes a battlefield of emotions. The coming and going of guards reaches a frenzy as the news of the destroyed motorcycle spreads. The murmur of hurried conversations fills the rooms, and perplexity is written on the faces of the staff. The luxurious silence is shattered by uncomfortable restlessness, creating an atmosphere of impending conflict.

Amidst the chaos, those in charge of the cameras seek answers in visual records. Images are reviewed and analyzed for clues that may shed light on Mason's disappearance. The guards now on high alert intensify their rounds through the mansion. The sound of hurried footsteps on the marble floor adds to the growing nervousness that settles in.

The news of Mason's tumultuous disappearance, Can-Bey's young omega lover, spreads like wildfire through the mansion corridors. Nervous employees whisper, trying to understand what triggered such a disappearance. The echo of his solitary footsteps, which once filled the spaces, is replaced by the anxious murmur of the servants, exchanging uncertain glances.

However, it is the absence of silence that disturbs the most. Once a sanctuary of tranquility, the mansion becomes a stage of restlessness. The minutes, now laden with suspense, stretch like an eternity for those witnessing the unfolding events. The void left by Mason is filled not by luxurious silence but by the feverish restlessness of recent occurrences.

The head of security, a man with a firm posture and keen gaze, felt an unexpected unease as he watched the mansion's monitoring screens. Alerts blink in red, indicating a sequence of unusual incidents. The atmosphere in the security room became tense as if a shadow loomed over the night that should have been peaceful.

The gala night organized by the Wilson family was marked by elegance and grandeur. The Wilson family, composed of Horace, Leslie, Can-Bey, and Zeki, played the role of perfect hosts for high society. Horace Wilson, the imposing patriarch, arrived first at the mansion, leading his wife Leslie by the arm. Their glances exchanged complicity as they entered the majestic entrance hall, a reflection of the lasting harmony they shared.

Next, Can-Bey Wilson's figure stood out. The aura of the dominant alpha he maintained during the Gala night remained, but now, under the softer light of the mansion, his countenance revealed the subtle fatigue of a host after a grand event. Can-Bey had played his role as the president of the world's largest advertiser. However, upon stepping home, something lingered in the air—an unresolved tension. In his equation with Mason, he believes the omega can handle well the place he occupies in his life.

With a deep breath to calm his nerves, the head of security approached Can-Bey Wilson, his serious demeanor reflecting the gravity of the situation. "Mr. Can-Bey, unfortunately, there have been incidents that need to be addressed," he said, choosing his words carefully not to cause unnecessary alarm.

The security chief's report began with a description of the alerts triggered in different areas of the mansion. Sensors indicated suspicious movements and doors being opened without authorization. Can-Bey, usually confident in his impenetrable security, raised his eyebrows, expressing surprise and concern.

Next, the security chief reported a failure in the camera and communication system, leaving a gap in electronic surveillance. Images of some crucial moments of the night were lost, further increasing Can-Bey's perplexity. The situation was taking on a darker dimension.

Faced with these disturbing events, the security chief suggested that Can-Bey accompany him to the private museum, an area of special significance. The journey through the mansion seemed longer than ever, with each step marked by growing anxiety. The security chief felt his eyes swirl in their sockets, a strange sensation of disorientation that made him question his own stability.

Upon reaching the museum, a disconcerting sight awaited Can-Bey. The motorcycle that occupied a prominent place in the collection was now reduced to wreckage. Can-Bey's expression went through a range of emotions, from bewilderment to frustration. In the midst of the destruction, he approached the shattered bike, examining the damage with a grave expression.

The moment Can-Bey realized the extent of the damage, the question of a possible theft instinctively arose. "Was something stolen?" he inquired of the security chief, his voice laden with concern and disbelief. While pondering the invasion of his own home, tumultuous thoughts swirled in Can-Bey's mind, revealing an unexpected internal conflict.

**Can-Bey: ** (with a serious look) Is everyone safe? Has the security system returned to normal?

**Security Chief: ** (visibly nervous) No, we are working on it.

Can-Bey, worried and impatient, stares intensely at the security chief.

**Security Chief: ** (expressing frustration) He is speechless; he stutters... After the incident, Mr. Mason was not found.

The security chief lowers his head, acknowledging the gravity of the situation.

**Security Chief: ** (with a trembling voice) Sir, we... are doing everything we can to resolve this. We don't know how this happened.

Can-Bey, now visibly still, transitions to an angered state and approaches the security chief.

Can-Bey: (holding him by the suit) You receive orders, and it's your duty to protect this place.

The security chief, still stunned by the turn of events, tries to explain himself.

**Security Chief: ** (stuttering) Sir, I... I don't know what happened. It was like...

Can-Bey, impatient for excuses, growls through his teeth.

Can-Bey: (with a threatening voice) I don't want excuses. I want solutions. Now.

**Security Chief: ** (trying to explain) Sir, the alerts were unexpected. The camera systems failed, and doors were breached. We can't understand how Mr. Mason disappeared.

Tension in the room increases as Can-Bey firmly holds the security chief. The security chief, aware of the seriousness of the situation, seeks answers to calm Can-Bey's growing fury.

**Next day... Sunday, Campbell Mansion ➴➵➶**

Aster woke up with a psychological hangover from the night before. The last thing he remembered was the sound of music, lights, and smiles.

As he got up excited, he felt the need for an aromatic cup of fresh coffee to clear his lazy mind. Callum had left early to pick up his grandfather, Lord Mallet, at the Campbell Mountain estate.

Sitting at the

table, Aster immediately heard the voice of Sarah Campbell.

**Sarah: ** "Keep your ex-boyfriends away, Aster! I want to make it clear that I won't allow you to behave inappropriately in front of people who are friends or part of high society. Exposing yourself to conversations with people you only indirectly know. Don't make me kick you out of this house, and don't make me say, It's me or you!"

"Come to think of it, you should leave now," demanded Sarah Campbell, expressing her obstinacy. "Let's talk about something less unpleasant, Aster," she warned.

**Aster: ** "There are advantages to men with experience," he said casually.

Sarah: "What are you talking about?" she asked angrily.

**Aster: ** "I thought it was obvious: conscientious, confident, attentive."

**Sarah: ** "Your behavior is atrocious," she muttered disgustedly.

**Aster: ** Atrocious? "You always treat me or see me as a worthless testament."

**Aster: ** "You can insult me as much as you want when we're alone," Aster replied calmly.

**Sarah: ** "I don't appreciate omegas and people like you without a family," retorted Sarah Campbell.

**Aster: ** "Okay, I can understand that you see me as a ghost looking for a home in your family.

"It's a despicable thing to promise love and devotion to gain an advantage with an alpha, only to discard him when you find a better alpha. You did that with Nathan Caller, didn't you? "And now you've replaced him with my son!"

Aster stopped abruptly and spoke solemnly:

**Aster: ** "We are all villains in a poorly told story."

**Sarah: ** How dare you speak as if you own Callum's feelings? Like a thief who stole a feeling?

Sarah continues questioning: * Pride in stealing a heart or Clarice's place?

*With a face carved in stone, Aster spoke: *

Yes, I'd rather be a thief who stole everything than a loser with nothing left.

Because the real world, away from these walls, burns in many kinds of flames... And this world breaks hearts, and it always has.

It's not my fault if your son finds an animal that doesn't look like any other in this world. Because that's how you see me!

However, what do you do with that? How do you deal with it?

Sarah: (with a mix of anger and incredulity) Thief? Do you assume to be a thief? Callum deserves more than to be plundered by someone like you!

Sarah, now with an icy look: It's easy to use grand words, Aster, but what do you really understand about love and commitment? Do you think you can simply justify your actions with beautiful words?

**Aster: ** (serious) I understand more than you think. I understand that the world out there is ruthless and that hearts are broken and rebuilt.

Sarah: (with disdain) You understand nothing. You think you can just come into our lives and rewrite the rules. You're nothing but an opportunist.

**Aster: ** (calm) I don't rewrite the rules, Sarah. I just refuse to be molded by them. You can accept it or not.

Sarah, with a challenging expression: So, is that what you think? That you can face the real world—the flames you mentioned? Get ready, Aster, because this fire burns even the bravest. And you are no exception.

**Aster: ** (firm) We'll see, Lady Sarah. We'll see who burns and who emerges stronger.

After Lady Sarah's departure, Aster stood up from the table, leaving behind worried and tense looks from the nearby staff. Butler Aubree followed him through the corridors of the imposing mansion, while the atmosphere weighed with tension not only between Aster and Sarah but also among the decorated walls and artworks witnessing the emotional turmoil.

Stopping in front of his personal studio, Aster opened the door, revealing an incredible space with stained glass bathing the room in vibrant colors, contrasting with the fresh flowers adorning the tables. All kinds of painting materials were meticulously organized, waiting to be used in an artistic expression.

As he walked on the glossy floor, Aster internally wrestled with the revelation that Callum deserved. The truth, as difficult as it was, seemed to be the only path to liberation. However, how could he tell Callum that he was from another world? The complexity of the situation involved Aster in an internal conflict, making him question his own role in the narrative.

"I should be the insignificant pawn seeking revenge," Aster thought to himself. "So why do I feel oppressed and unjust?"

As these thoughts churned in his mind, the walls seemed to whisper their own dilemmas. The echo of Lady Sarah and Aster's conversations reverberated, leaving a trail of tension in the air.

**Aubree: ** Mr. Aster, I understand that the recent events were intense. Lady Sarah, despite her strict reputation, is a great lady with an extraordinary heart.

**Aster: ** (looking at Aubrey) It seems I've found an exception to that rule.

Aubrey (with a subtle smile) Sometimes appearances are deceiving, Mr. Aster. Everyone's journey is complex, and the deeper chapters are rarely revealed immediately.

**Aster: ** (reflecting) looked deeply at Butler, Aubree.

**Aubrey: ** Each person has their own capacity for understanding, Mr. Aster. Sometimes, time is an ally in this process. Lady Sarah, despite her words, is concerned about the well-being of the family. Sometimes, anger is just a curtain that hides deeper concerns.

**Aster: ** (sighing) I understand.

**Aubree: ** (serenely) The truth is a delicate gift, Mr. Aster. Sometimes, it needs to be shared with patience and at the right moment. It is up to each of us to decide how to face this challenge.

**Aster: ** (looking at the studio) I think I need some time to reflect.

**Aubree: ** (gentle) Art often serves as a refuge for restless souls. I hope you find clarity in your reflections, Mr. Aster.