Episode Two
751 Words
ANONYMOUS
The morning light streamed through the sheer curtains of my apartment, painting golden stripes across the hardwood floor. I sat curled on my couch with a steaming mug of black coffee, my laptop perched on my knees. The cryptic text from the night before still haunted my thoughts, unsettling me with its suddenness and implication. I’d received no follow-up, and no identifying information could be gleaned from the number.
I typed Jones Brown’s name into the search engine again. Dozens of interviews, business articles, and financial analyses appeared instantly. Jones Brown: founder of multiple tech companies, an investor in renewable energy, owner of sprawling real estate holdings, and apparently, a patron of the arts. But beneath the curated persona of success was something darker.
I scrolled past the top headlines and dove into lesser-known blogs and forums. One comment, buried under layers of responses, caught her attention:
"The fire in São Paulo wasn’t an accident. No one talks about Robert Nelson anymore. They should."
I copied the name Robert Nelson and opened a new search taMinimaltle appeared—just a few press mentions, all of which were at least five years old. Nelson had been a business partner in one of Jones’ earlier ventures, a cybersecurity firm that had skyrocketed to prominence before mysteriously dissolving. There had been a fire at their overseas headquarters, and though no one had been hurt, the loss had been substantial.
I frowned. The pieces didn’t quite fit together, but something was off. And I wasn’t the only one who thought so.
My thoughts were interrupted by a call from Kate
"Good Morning," Lexi answered.
"Hey, you got a minute?" Kate’s voice had an edge of urgency. "I just got a call from someone on Jones Brown’s team. He’s hosting a private gala next week. He Wants you to be there."
"Me? Why?"
"He said he wants to showcase young artists and be taken by your work. Allison, this is huge. It could open so many doors."
I ran her fingers through my hair. "I don’t know. There’s something...off about him."
"He’s a billionaire. They’re all a little off. But if you’re serious about making it, this is the kind of break you don’t walk away from."
I sighed. "What kind of gala is it?"
"Very exclusive. Black tie. You’ll need something formal. Don’t worry, I’ll help you find a dress. Just say yes."
I hesitated, then nodded to myself. "Okay. I’ll go."
The day of the gala arrived with a buzz of nervous anticipation. Kate helped me get ready in my cozy apartment, adjusting the neckline of my deep emerald gown.
"You look like someone who belongs in his world," Kate said, stepping back to admire the final look.
"Let’s hope I can act like it too," I murmured.
Jones’ estate was located just outside the city—a sprawling mansion hidden behind towering iron gates and a winding forested drive. When the car dropped me off, My breath caught at the sight. The building was modern yet timeless, all glass, steel, and stone, with lights illuminating the manicured grounds.
I stepped inside and was immediately enveloped in opulence: marble floors, crystal chandeliers, walls lined with priceless artwork. The air buzzed with the chatter of the elite.
Then I saw him. "The almighty Jones Brown". I murmured
Jones stood near the grand staircase, dressed in a tailored black tuxedo, speaking with a small group of guests. His gaze shifted, and their eyes locked. He excused himself and strode over.
"Allison," he said, his voice smooth as silk. "I’m glad you came."
"I almost didn’t," I replied honestly.
He tilted his head. "Why?"
"Let’s just say I’ve read some interesting things."
His eyes darkened slightly. "The internet is a dangerous place. But if you want the truth, you only have to ask."
"Then tell me about Robert Nelson"
The question seemed to hang in the air, chilling the warmth around them. Jones' jaw tensed. He looked away briefly, then back at me.
"Robert was my friend. My partner. He died in that fire. Everyone says it was an accident, but I’ve always wondered. We were working on something revolutionary. We made enemies. Powerful ones."
I studied his face, trying to read the emotion behind his words.
"I didn’t expect you to be so direct," he added with a hint of admiration.
"I don’t like playing games."
He offered his arm. "Then let me show you something."
He led me through the estate to a quiet
- Writer
