Chapter 4: Bonds and Bruises

Zain

It was a rare day when I could be left at home without the constant looming shadow of my father's expectations. His recent bad mood had landed me a couple of days off, much to my relief. So, when Cian Hale and Kasey Dennis showed up at my doorstep unannounced, I was surprised but not entirely unwelcome.

"Cian! Kasey!" I greeted them, stepping aside to let them in. Cian stood tall in the doorway, his dark, tousled hair framing his blue-green eyes. His lean figure exuded a sense of controlled energy, ready for anything. Beside him, Kasey flashed a charming smile, his warm brown eyes sparkling with mischief. Despite his shorter stature, Kasey's muscular frame hinted at his strength and athleticism.

"Hey there," Cian said with a nod, his voice low and confident, twinged with his Floradéan accent.

"Long time no see," Kasey added, his grin widening as he stepped over the threshold.

I ushered them inside, feeling a surge of excitement at their unexpected visit. "What brings you guys over here?" Cian, with his easy grin and laid-back demeanor, slapped me on the back. "Heard you had a little scuffle, we wanted to check out the damage for ourselves, mon amie." He said slowly running his eyes over my visible injuries.

Kasey laughed as he walked by me opening up my freezer, "So who gave you the shiner?" he said throwing a small bag of frozen peas at me-I didn't even know it was in there-. I caught it and begrudgingly pressed it to my cheek.

I sighed, rubbing the bruise self-consciously. "Just a run-in with one of CJA’s," I replied, knowing that wasn't the whole story but not wanting to delve into the details of my father's anger.

Kasey raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that the industry that always gets in your way?" he asked.

I nodded grimly. "Yeah. But they’re more than just a thorn in my side. They’re... a challenge."

Cian and Kasey exchanged glances, clearly understanding the underlying tension between Edith and me. "Why don't you do something about their agents?" Cian asked.

I shrugged. "It's nice to finally have someone up to my level," I admitted.

---

Edith

As I sat at my desk in the dimly lit office of Cameron Jones Associates, the worn mahogany surface bore the marks of years of hard work. Its smooth finish was marred by faint scratches and dents, a testament to the countless projects and deadlines that had been tackled upon it. The desk was spacious, providing ample room for my work essentials.

A sleek silver laptop sat at the center, its screen illuminated with various tabs open, each representing a different aspect of my current project. Next to it, a stack of neatly organized folders stood in a makeshift tower, each one labeled with meticulous precision. Pens and pencils lay scattered across the desk, their presence a testament to the constant flow of ideas that passed through this space.

A vintage desk lamp casts a warm glow over the scene, its brass frame adding a touch of elegance to the utilitarian space. A framed photograph sat off to the side, depicting a scene from my childhood--me and my little brother- that served as a brief escape from the hustle and bustle of office life. And amidst it all, a steaming mug of coffee provided a comforting presence, its rich aroma filling the air with a sense of familiarity and focus.

"Alright," Markus said, snapping me out of my thoughts. His reddish-brown hair fell in unruly waves, catching the light and adding warmth to his angular face. Freckles danced across his cheeks and nose, accentuating his boyish charm. His piercing green eyes met mine, bright and expressive, as he continued, "Let's get to work on organizing the information for the rookie's assignment."

I nodded, pulling up the files on the rookie's assignment. It was a relatively simple task, but it required attention to detail and precision.

For hours, we pored over the information, sorting and categorizing with meticulous care. It was a tedious process, but with Markus by my side, it felt almost... enjoyable.

As we worked, we exchanged banter and inside jokes, our laughter filling the otherwise quiet office. It was moments like these that reminded me why I stayed in this line of work, despite the danger and the risks.

---

**Croacari News Report: **

The TV screen flickered to life, displaying a news reporter in front of the Croacari Capitol building. The headline read: "New Bill Passed Sparks Controversy."

"The political situation in Croacari is heating up," the reporter began, her voice grave. "Yesterday, the government passed a controversial bill aimed at restricting the spread of information and stifling dissent."

On the screen, footage showed protesters gathered outside the Capitol, holding signs and chanting slogans.

"The bill, known as the Information Control Act, gives the government sweeping powers to monitor and censor media outlets, as well as control the dissemination of information on social media platforms," the reporter continued.

Images of government officials debating in the chambers flashed across the screen, their faces tense with determination.

"In response, rebel factions across the country have vowed to resist the government's efforts to silence their voices," the reporter said, her tone somber.

The camera panned to a group of rebel leaders, their faces obscured by masks, as they spoke defiantly to a crowd of supporters.

"As tensions escalate, many fear that Croacari is on the brink of civil war,"

K.M Strunk