HUSH

HUSH. Episode 8

Sorry about some grammatical errors am sorry

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The Raymond family’s majestic mansion stood like a timeless monument to wealth and power, its towering marble pillars and crystal chandeliers reflecting generations of prosperity. Inside the grand conference hall, a long mahogany table stretched across the room, surrounded by the children and grandchildren of the Raymond dynasty.

The atmosphere was anything but peaceful.

“I deserve the vineyard estate,” one grandson argued, leaning forward. “I’ve managed the family’s social events for years.”

A woman scoffed. “Managed? You attend parties. The beach house should belong to my family.”

“What about Grandfather’s shares?”

“The private island?”

“The penthouse in New York?”

“The company dividends?”

One voice overlapped another until the room became a marketplace of greed, each person trying to secure a larger portion of a fortune that wasn’t even theirs to claim yet.

At the head of the table sat Theodore Raymond.

His silver hair was neatly combed, his tailored suit immaculate, and his sharp gray eyes quietly observed every face before him. He neither interrupted nor scolded them. Instead, he listened in complete silence, his expression unreadable.

Disappointment hid beneath that calm exterior.

Every meeting… the same conversation.

Not one of them mentioned expanding the Raymond empire.

Not one of them talked about investments.

Not one of them brought up contracts, partnerships, or innovation.

Their minds revolved around inheritance.

They spoke as though he were already gone.

Theodore slowly leaned back in his leather chair, releasing a nearly inaudible sigh.

This is exactly why Damian stands apart.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips as thoughts of his favorite grandson crossed his mind.

Damian Raymond never attended these meetings to argue over mansions, yachts, or trust funds.

Whenever Damian walked into this room, he carried blueprints, financial reports, and proposals worth hundreds of millions.

He spoke of acquiring companies before competitors could.

He discussed international contracts, emerging markets, and long-term investments.

He always looked toward building more wealth rather than dividing what already existed.

Theodore saw the same fire in Damian that had once burned brightly in another man.

His late father.

Theodore’s smile softened with nostalgia.

Damian’s father had been exactly the same.

While everyone else counted assets, he created them.

While others waited for wealth to be handed to them, he worked tirelessly to multiply it.

He had transformed small opportunities into billion-dollar ventures, strengthening the Raymond empire with every decision he made.

Even after his untimely death, his legacy lived on through Damian.

“Like father… like son,” Theodore thought proudly.

A loud argument snapped him back to reality.

“I should control the company after Grandfather!”

“No, your branch of the family has already received enough!”

“You only care about money!”

“You do too!”

Their voices rose again, filling the grand hall with endless bickering.

Theodore closed his eyes for a brief moment.

For the first time in the meeting, he wished Damian were present.

At least then, someone would be talking about the future of the Raymond empire instead of fighting over pieces of it.

The atmosphere inside the National Entertainment Guild headquarters was suffocating.

Television screens mounted across the conference room replayed the same breaking news.

RENOWNED ACTRESS NATALIE FOUND DEAD.

POLICE INVESTIGATION UNDERWAY.

The room buzzed with anxious whispers as producers, directors, talent managers, publicists, and executives gathered around the oval conference table.

No one dared to speak above a murmur until the Guild Chairman cleared his throat.

“Let’s begin.”

The conversations died instantly.

“We all know why we’re here,” he said gravely. “Natalie’s death has shaken the entire entertainment industry.”

Silence settled over the room.

One executive folded his hands on the table.

“The biggest problem isn’t only Natalie’s death.”

Everyone turned toward him.

“It’s Rebecca.”

A wave of uneasy murmurs swept through the room.

“Has anyone been able to reach her?”

“No.”

“Her phone is switched off.”

“Her manager hasn’t heard from her.”

“Neither has her assistant.”

“It’s as if she disappeared overnight.”

The chairman’s brows knitted together.

“That’s impossible. Rebecca has never vanished without informing someone.”

A veteran producer sighed.

“And that’s exactly what’s making this situation worse.”

He tapped a tablet, projecting several photographs onto the large screen.

Images from the previous night’s charity gala appeared one after another.

In every picture, Natalie and Rebecca were glaring at each other.

Then came a blurry video.

The conference room fell completely silent.

The footage showed Natalie pointing aggressively at Rebecca while shouting.

Rebecca answered with equal intensity.

The verbal confrontation escalated rapidly.

Then—

Rebecca shoved Natalie.

Natalie stumbled backward before charging at her.

The two women exchanged several blows before security rushed between them, pulling them apart as cameras flashed from every direction.

The clip ended with Natalie wrenching herself free from the guards.

She shot Rebecca one final glare before storming out of the venue.

That was the last confirmed sighting of Natalie alive.

An uncomfortable silence lingered.

One director finally spoke.

“The entire country has seen this video.”

Another executive nodded grimly.

“The public has already connected the dots.”

“They were sworn enemies for years.”

“They argued publicly.”

“They fought.”

“And only hours later…” He hesitated. “…Natalie was dead.”

A public relations consultant rubbed her temples.

“Social media has already convicted Rebecca.”

“Some believe she knows what happened.”

“Others are accusing her outright.”

“Has anyone confirmed she even left the gala after the fight?” someone asked.

“No.”

“Did anyone see her later that night?”

“No.”

The chairman exhaled heavily.

“This is becoming a disaster.”

“If Rebecca is innocent, she needs to come forward immediately.”

“And if she knows anything…”

His unfinished sentence hung heavily in the air.

Everyone understood.

A talent manager looked around the room.

“What worries me most is that Rebecca isn’t running from reporters.”

He paused.

“She’s missing.”

The words sent a chill through the gathering.

Rebecca had always been outspoken.

She never hid from controversy.

She faced cameras head-on, no matter how damaging the headlines were.

For her to disappear without a trace…

That wasn’t like her.

The chairman slowly stood, his face grim.

“Until the authorities determine what truly happened, I want everyone in this industry to avoid spreading rumors.”

He scanned every face before him.

“We deal in stories.”

“This is not one.”

“This is a woman’s death.”

“And another woman’s disappearance.”

The room fell into a heavy silence.

Outside the conference hall, reporters crowded behind barricades, microphones raised toward every executive who emerged.

Only one question echoed through the halls, across television stations, and throughout the country

Where was Rebecca

The underground world never truly slept.

Hidden beneath the glittering skylines of powerful cities were smoke-filled casinos, abandoned warehouses, private clubs, and secret meeting houses where criminals, mercenaries, smugglers, and syndicate bosses conducted business beyond the reach of the law.

Tonight, however, business had taken a back seat.

Every whispered conversation revolved around one name.

“Ramos.”

The name echoed through every underground den like a spark waiting to ignite a wildfire.

“He crossed the line.”

“I still can’t believe he did it.”

“Of all people… he chose Damian.”

A bartender polishing a crystal glass shook his head.

“That’s not courage.”

“That’s suicide.”

Across the room, several crime lords and brokers exchanged uneasy glances.

Ramos wasn’t a nobody.

He ruled a vast criminal network, controlling illegal trade routes, underground gambling rings, and countless armed men. His influence stretched across borders, earning him the title of an underworld lord.

In any other situation, his name alone was enough to make people think twice.

But this wasn’t just anyone he had challenged.

This was Damian.

The man whose reputation had become legend in the shadows.

No one knew exactly how much power Damian possessed.

Some claimed he owned entire private armies.

Others insisted governments had secretly negotiated with him.

Many believed half the underworld either worked for him… or feared him.

Whatever the truth, one fact remained unquestioned.

Damian never tolerated betrayal.

And he never allowed anyone to overstep their boundaries.

A scarred weapons broker leaned forward, lowering his voice.

“I heard Ramos seized one of Damian’s shipments.”

Another man shook his head.

“No.”

“I heard he attacked one of Damian’s trusted men.”

A third smirked.

“Whatever happened, it was enough to provoke Damian.”

The room fell silent.

No one wanted to imagine what Damian’s retaliation would look like.

An elderly syndicate boss slowly lit a cigar before speaking.

“You youngsters keep asking who’s stronger.”

He exhaled a cloud of smoke.

“Ramos is powerful.”

“He commands loyal soldiers.”

“He has money, territory, and influence.”

The old man’s eyes darkened.

“But Damian…”

He paused long enough for the silence to become uncomfortable.

“…is in a different league.”

Several heads nodded instinctively.

One mercenary chuckled nervously.

“If those two go to war, the underworld won’t survive it unchanged.”

Another scoffed.

“There won’t be a war.”

“Why?”

“Because wars require equals.”

The words settled over the room.

A hush followed.

Finally, someone dared to ask the question lingering in everyone’s mind.

“So…”

“…who do you think wins?”

The room remained silent for several seconds.

Then laughter broke out—not mocking, but disbelieving.

One crime boss wiped a tear from his eye.

“You’re asking the wrong question.”

Confused, the younger man frowned.

“What do you mean?”

The boss’s smile disappeared.

“The real question isn’t whether Damian wins.”

His voice dropped to a whisper.

“It’s how long Ramos survives after Damian decides to make his move.”

The room became deathly quiet.

Outside, the rain continued to fall over the city.

In the shadows, phones rang one after another as messages spread through every corner of the criminal world.

Only six words were needed to send fear through even the most hardened syndicates.

Damian knows what Ramos has done.

And everyone understood what that meant.

A storm was coming.

One that would leave the underworld forever changed.