The Weight of the Night

The ropes were ice-cold against my skin, biting into my wrists and ankles. Someone had shoved a filthy sock into my mouth. It reeked of sweat and humiliation.

I struggled, choking out muffled cries, only to hear laughter that was sharp, cruel, and gleeful.

"Behave yourself when we get there. If Grayson's feeling nice, he might throw you a bone."

The car sped through the darkness, and my heart sank deeper into the pit inside me.

…

They dragged me into my father's hospital room. The place was silent except for the steady beeping of the monitors. The sterile air felt suffocating.

My father lay there, motionless, a breathing tube keeping him alive.

Grayson ordered them to tie me to the foot of the bed. My knees hit the cold floor. Then, he pulled out his phone and switched to video mode.

"Come on," he said. "Look into the camera and tell everyone your father, Benjamin Ward, is a fraud."

I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. Not a word came out.

Grayson clicked his tongue in irritation, grabbed my chin, and forced my head up.

"Forgot to mention," he said, his tone casual and cruel. "This fancy VIP room, the advanced equipment—all of it costs a fortune. If you don't cooperate, I'll move him to the general ward right now. He can spend his last days packed in with the dying. Maybe one day, a nurse gets tired and unplugs his oxygen tube. Who'd ever know?"

Each word sliced straight through me.

Maris stood nearby, her expression detached, arms folded.

"Grayson, that's enough. Don't blow this out of proportion," she said in a calm, almost careless tone.

He gave a low laugh.

"What, feeling sorry for him now? Maris, get real. Your future is with me, not with this loser who can't even save his own father."

Then, his hand slid under her blouse, right in front of me.

Maris pushed weakly at his chest, then melted against him, her cheeks burning. "Don't… Lucen's watching."

"So what if he is?" Grayson said. "You'll get used to it."

He pressed her down onto the couch beside the hospital bed. "You've been with him for too long. Now, it's my turn."

The other rich kids started whistling and cheering, phones out, recording everything.

"Grayson, you're savage—doing it in front of her ex!"

"Maris' body's insane, man. You're one lucky guy."

The chaos before me made it feel like my whole world was coming apart. A wave of nausea rose from my gut, and I doubled over, gagging. I shut my eyes, unable to watch that sickening scene any longer.

I had no idea how much time passed before their twisted spectacle finally ended.

Grayson straightened his clothes, satisfied, then kicked me hard in the ribs.

"Now," he said, "ready to speak?"

I spat out the blood pooling in my mouth, staring at Grayson—then at Maris, her hair tangled, her clothes in disarray.

"Grayson, Maris, you'll pay for this."

Maris snapped the moment my words hit her. She stormed over and snatched a phone from one of the rich brats nearby.

"Pay for this? I'll show you what payback really looks like!"

Her fingers flew across the screen. In seconds, the obscene videos they'd just filmed—and the screenshots of my father's stolen manuscripts being sold—were all online, wrapped in carefully fabricated captions.

'Renowned scholar Benjamin Ward exposed as a thief—his own son kneels to confess for money.'

"Lucen," she spat, "you forced me to do this!"

I thrashed against the ropes, desperate to stop her, but they pinned me down again.

Grayson stomped on my wrist until I heard the sickening crack. "It's your own damn fault for not knowing your place. Don't blame us for being ruthless!"

I stared straight at Maris, forcing out each word. "Maris, my father's new research partner is the world-renowned Professor Adrian Locke."

The Last Card

"He's about to come back. If he finds out what you've done, the Dawn family—and every one of you—will be finished."

The Adrian Locke I named was my father's oldest friend and a towering figure in our field. He was blunt and incorruptible; academic dishonesty was his greatest contempt.

He'd been working overseas for years, so many people at home didn't even know he and my father were close.

This was my last card.

Grayson and his friends paused for a beat, then burst into louder laughter.

"Professor Adrian Locke? As if. Are you kidding me?" one of them said.

"We checked. Your dad's a loner, a weird guy. Besides you, he has no friends," another added.

"Professor Locke? What's next? Are you going to tell us the Pope's your godfather?"

Maris snorted derisively. "Lucen, have you lost your mind? Are you talking nonsense now? Grayson's already dug through every bit of that AI model's data. Even if the original creator showed up, there'd be nothing for you to gain."

A smug smile crossed her face.

"Oh, and I forgot to tell you. People have already bought what I posted online. Social media's ripping you and your father apart, calling you a disgrace to academia."

She pushed the phone in front of me. The screen was a wall of insults.

'I never thought Benjamin was that kind of man. I used to admire him.'

'Like father, like son. The kid's not worth anything.'

'People like that should be nailed to the wall in disgrace.'

Each hateful line cut a little deeper. I could feel them slicing at me.

I went berserk, throwing myself forward with everything I had and shoved the crowd back. My breathing shook, and the look on my face was that of someone cornered with no way out.

Maris froze at my reaction; her lips twitched. "Grayson, maybe that's enough. We already got what we wanted."

A cruel light flashed in Grayson's eyes. He stepped up close and lowered his voice.

"Lucen, you really don't know, do you? The baby Maris is carrying isn't yours. While you were staying up all night helping your dad sort through his data, she was already in my bed. She said you were too clean—so clean it made her bored."

Malice dripped from him.

"We meant to keep this from you and let you be the unwitting, convenient father. Then, your damned old man found out and wanted to blow the whole thing wide open. Do you think he deserved to live for that? He didn't have a stroke; I had someone give him an injection so he'd never be able to speak again!"

Rage took over. I grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the wall. With everything I had, I hammered my fist into his face again and again.

It had all been an elaborate setup.

Blood blurred my vision. I couldn't see straight. I only knew I kept striking blindly.

In the chaos, Maris snatched up a vase and brought it down on the back of my head. The world flipped.

The rich kids rushed forward in panic, trying to pry us apart.

"Grayson! Grayson! Are you okay?"

"Finish him! He's gone crazy!"

My head took another blow. They kicked me to the floor; my wrist tore with searing pain. My breath grew shallow. Darkness seeped in around the edges of my mind.

Then, the hospital room door was kicked open.