Veil System: Running a Model, High-End Escort and Marriage Agency
Chapter 86: Justin & Sydney’s Fatefull Night—The Pull of Sleep

Chapter 86: Justin & Sydney’s Fatefull Night—The Pull of Sleep

He was alone.

Not the kind of alone that came from being by yourself—but the kind that settled in your bones. A cold that had nothing to do with the night air, but everything to do with the void left behind. A craving for something he could never get back. Unless he struck a deal with Hades himself.

Right now, his only solace was the night. A quiet, haunting reminder that they were gone. That he had to be strong. That he had to be a man.

That he had to be their proud son.

The cold that pressed against his skin wasn’t the night’s chill—it was the absence of her warmth. The kind of warmth that no amount of blankets or bourbon could replicate. The kind of warmth that made a house feel like home.

Now, the night was his only companion. A silent, indifferent witness to the fact that he had to stand alone. Be a man. Be their proud son.

But damn... some nights, he just wanted to be that kid again.

Justin stayed still, lost in the night’s embrace, when out of nowhere—warmth. A soft, familiar scent wrapped around him as arms slid over his shoulders, pulling him into a firm hug from behind.

Sasha.

She didn’t say anything at first, just rested her chin on his head, her warmth bleeding into his back.

For a second, he let himself lean into it. Maybe she knew—maybe she felt that moment of loneliness, or maybe she just had impeccable timing. Either way, she was here.

"You good?" she finally asked, her voice quiet but steady.

He exhaled, a slow, deep breath. "Yeah."

"Liar." She nudged his head lightly.

He smirked but didn’t argue. They sat there together, gazing at the night, watching as the darkness stretched endlessly beyond the mansion lights. It was Sasha who finally broke the silence.

"Alright, enough brooding, Batman. Dinner’s ready."

Justin snorted. "And if I say I’m not hungry?"

"Then I’ll drag your dramatic ass downstairs myself."

She sounded completely serious, and considering she had zero hesitation when it came to physical violence—or embarrassing him in front of the others—he knew better than to test her.

He sighed, pushing himself up. "Fine, fine. But if the food sucks, I’m blaming you."

"Deal." She grabbed his wrist, dragging him towards the door with all the enthusiasm of someone leading a lost puppy.

*

Downstairs, the dining room was already alive with conversation. Chloe sat primly at the table, scrolling through her phone like she was only here because someone had blackmailed her into attending. Selena was sipping from a glass of wine, looking effortlessly elegant even while casually judging everyone in the room.

Laurent, as usual, was already halfway through her plate, not giving a single fuck about anything except the food.

As Justin and Sasha walked in, Chloe barely glanced up. "Oh look, he lives."

"Yeah, yeah, I was having a moment. Sue me."

Laurent wiped her mouth, eyeing him. "If you were having a real moment, you should’ve let me know. I could’ve played some sad violin music in the background."

Selena snorted. "He already has a whole tragic millionaire backstory. We don’t need to add a soundtrack."

Justin rolled his eyes, dropping into his seat. "Y’all act like I don’t fund your entire lives now as this family head."

Sasha smirked. "And yet, here you are, still sitting with us. Almost like you like us or something."

Justin grabbed a piece of bread and took a bite. "Yeah, yeah, don’t push it."

The conversation drifted as everyone started eating, the usual mix of sarcasm, banter, and the occasional insult filling the space. Despite himself, Justin felt that small, almost-forgotten warmth settle in his chest again. This? This felt like home.

And for tonight, that was enough.

*****

Justin flopped onto his bed with a heavy sigh, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers to all his problems. It didn’t. If it did, it sure as hell wasn’t saying shit.

His body was humming with that familiar need, that deep, aching hunger for some real fucking action. Man needed sex like a car needed gas—except in his case, he was running on fumes, and the nearest station was closed.

Chloe? Yeah, nah. She was dead tired. And unlike him, she had actual shit to do tomorrow—hell, for an entire week. Martinez too. Meaning? He wasn’t getting any from her either.

Of course, there was Isabella, but did he know her plans for tomorrow? Nope. And he wasn’t about to go looking for her like some desperate high school virgin. She was gonna come to him herself.

He groaned, turning in bed. The sheets felt cold. Empty. Like the universe itself was mocking him. This was him, the same man who’d once fucked three women in a single damn day, going four-plus rounds with each, making sure they were all damn near paralyzed by the time he was done.

And yet? Here he was. The next day. Craving more—more he couldn’t have.

A dark chuckle left his lips. "Damn, I’m more lustful than ever."

The crazy part? He had options. So many women he could call up, tell ’em to get ready, and he’d have his needs satisfied in an hour, max. But the issue?

"I don’t wanna get out of this damn bed."

There was always Sasha, too. He could make a move on her. But nah. She deserved better than someone to just satisfy his cravings.

And also, she was also for later. He had his own fucking principles. And one of those? He was not touching Sasha until he got a taste of her mother first. That was a promise to himself. And he? He never broke the path.

Another sigh. Looked like he was about to sleep sexless tonight—whatever the hell that meant in his vocabulary these days.

But just as he closed his eyes—

DING!

[New Mission Generated. You have unfinished business!]

[New Mission: Have your first ever taboo!]

[Reward: Aura of Eros!]

[Time limit: 2 days!]

Justin blinked. His brain took a second to process that. And then—click.

Oh.

OH.

A slow grin spread across his face.

Why wouldn’t he fucking laugh?

He’d get ’em.

With that, he shut his eyes, letting the unforgiving darkness wrap around him. Sleep dragged him deep, deeper than ever before, carrying him into the uncharted territories of the night.

And in that abyss, a dream awaited him.

A dream that was about to change everything.

For better? For worse?

That? That was up to him.

****

Sydney sat on the edge of her bed, staring at her phone like it had the answers to all her life’s problems. Spoiler alert: it didn’t.

She sighed, flopping back onto the plush mattress, one leg bent, the other stretched out lazily. Her mind was running in circles, replaying the day like some Netflix show she couldn’t turn off. Adam being his usual menace, her pathetic crush that refused to die, and the fact that she looked too damn good tonight for nobody to appreciate it.

She glanced at the mirror across the room. "I swear, if I had even a crumb of shamelessness, I’d be unstoppable."

A buzz from her phone. She snatched it up, only to find some random notification.

Yeah. Definitely not him.

"Fucking figures," she muttered, tossing the phone aside.

It wasn’t like she was expecting a text. He didn’t even know she existed like that. But damn, would it kill the universe to throw her a bone?

She turned onto her stomach, burying her face in the pillow. The night outside was quiet, the distant hum of city life muffled by the mansion’s thick walls. The kind of quiet that felt heavy. Like the world was winding down, tucking itself in for the night.

Her eyelids got heavier. She fought it—because why? Because she was stubborn. Because it was too early. Because sleep was for the weak.

But sleep? Sleep didn’t give a fuck.

It crept in, slow but unstoppable, like a tide pulling her under. One second she was staring at the ceiling, and the next—

Gone.

The night wrapped around her, dragging her down, deeper and deeper, until thoughts became whispers, and whispers became silence.

And then—

The dream began.

Sleep didn’t take her gently. It wasn’t a soft, lulling descent into dreams. No, it yanked her down like a goddamn undertow, like something had been waiting for her to close her eyes.

One second, she was wrapped in her silk sheets, and the next—

She was falling.

Not in a cute, "oh no, I tripped" kind of way. No, this was the soul-plummeting, reality-breaking, gravity-ain’t-your-friend-no-more kind of fall.

She opened her mouth to scream, but the sound got stolen by the wind whipping past her face. The world was a blur, shadows and colors bleeding together, stretching, twisting, melting—until suddenly—

Boom.

Impact.

But not on the ground.

She landed somewhere—soft yet solid, like the universe had caught her in its palm. And just like that, everything went silent.

No wind. No breath. No her.

She looked around. Except there was no "around."

It was nothing. But not empty. It was black, but not dark. A space that existed without existing.

And then—

A voice.

"Who are you?"

****

Some voting and gifts guys. Motivation is needed here. This place is so quiet and I don’t even know doing a good job as I think I’m doing!

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