GTA V : The golden

The warmth enveloped him, but it wasn't due to the heavy blanket. It was a different feeling, something that crept into him gently, as if he were returning to another time.

A golden light filled the place, a garden immersed in greenery, and the sky was unrealistically clear. The sound of soft laughter echoed around him, pure, unpolluted by any worry or anxiety.

There was a small child, not more than eight years old, with wavy black hair and blue eyes that sparkled with life. He ran freely, his steps light as if the earth could not hold him.

"Dad! Come on! Catch me!"

Jonathan laughed, a real laugh, one he hadn't known for years. He moved lightly, there was no heaviness, there was nothing but the moment.

Then his eyes fell upon her.

The woman he had never forgotten.

She stood there, steadfast, in a simple white dress that flowed around her body as if it were an extension of her pure soul. Her ivory skin glowed under the sunlight, and her long black hair danced with the summer breeze. Her hazel eyes were watching him, with warmth, love, and something else... something he couldn't define.

"Jonathan, don't let him win so easily."

She laughed, a light laugh, like a melody forgotten by time.

Everything was perfect. It was as if he were living in a pure moment of his past life, a moment that had not been tainted by regret or wrong decisions.

But he felt something change.

The gentle breeze became still. The light began to fade, as if the sun itself were slowly retreating. The sound of laughter began to weaken, as if it were fading into an endless void.

The child stopped running.

He turned to look at him, but in his eyes there was no longer joy. His eyes looked sadder, more... disappointed.

"Dad... why did you leave me?"

He felt something tighten around his chest.

"I... I didn't..."

He tried to move forward, but his feet became heavy, as if the earth were now holding him back. He turned towards her, the woman he loved, but she was not as she had been moments before. Her features began to fade, her body turned into mist.

"Didn't you love us, Jonathan?"

He stretched out his hand, tried to grab her, but found only air.

"Wait..."

"Wake up."

He opened his eyes sharply, his breath quickening, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

The room was plunged into darkness, except for a faint light that filtered through the heavy curtains. He felt a movement beside him, then a drowsy feminine voice whispered:

"Honey... are you okay?"

He looked to his side, where Vanessa, his current wife, lay beside him. Her eyes were half-open, and her hand lazily stretched out to touch his arm.

"I'm fine..." he whispered hoarsely, but he wasn't sure if he was telling the truth.

She sighed softly, then turned to her other side, returning to sleep.

As for him, he remained awake, staring at the ceiling, while one name echoed in his mind:

"Ethan..."

The morning was gloomy, despite the sunlight that had begun to filter in from behind the skyscrapers. Jonathan sat on the edge of the bed, running his hand over his face, trying to dispel the effect of the dream that still lingered in his mind. Since when had he not seen that scene? Since when had he not heard her voice?

He rose slowly, moved to the bathroom, washed his face with cold water, but it was not enough to remove the feeling that clung to him. He stood in front of the mirror, contemplating his tired features. Jonathan James was a man in his mid-fifties, but time had only stolen a little from him. His face was sharply sculpted, a strong jawline and fine lines around his mouth and eyes, not wrinkles of weakness, but traces of a man who had fought many silent battles.

His eyes were pale blue, like the sky on a cold day, bearing the weight of years of irreversible decisions. His hair, which was once jet black, had begun to be invaded by gray at the temples, but it was still carefully arranged, as if he were trying to hold on to something of his youth.

He was over six feet tall, his body well-proportioned despite the years, bearing the marks of a man accustomed to controlling everything, even his body. He was not muscular, but he was not weak either; it seemed as if his body reflected his personality—firm, solid, but not without scars.

When he moved, there was a heaviness in his steps, not hesitation, but awareness, as if he knew that every step carried meaning. Even the tone of his voice, deep but calm, carried something of authority, even if he did not try to impose it.

When he was silent, there was something in his gaze that made others wonder what was going on in his mind—a man who carried a lot, but did not reveal anything.

Then he sighed heavily. There was no time for these thoughts, he had work to do.

He put on his dark suit, tied his tie in a routine movement, then left the room with quiet steps so as not to wake Vanessa. Downstairs, his personal assistant, a neat forty-year-old man named "David," waited for him, holding his phone and some papers in his hand.

"Good morning, sir."

"Good morning, David. Is the car ready?"

"Yes, and Mr. Price is waiting for you. There are some updates regarding the new project."

Jonathan nodded silently, then left the luxurious house, where a luxury black car was waiting for him. He sat in the back seat and began to look at the city as it woke up, at the people walking on the sidewalks, some in a hurry, some lost as if they were strangers to this world.

His company, "Vanguard Technologies," was one of the leading companies in the city. It worked in the field of technology and cyber security, and was the focus of everyone's attention. Although Ethan was not part of his world now, the entire city revolved around such projects. Jonathan had started in this field years ago, and quickly rose to the top of the scene thanks to his strategic vision and quick decisions. His wealth had not been brought to him by luck, but by his intelligence in building relationships with businessmen, and achieving victories in a field that only recognizes results.

When he arrived at the building, his assistant "David" greeted him with a contrived smile.

"Good morning, sir. Everything is ready."

"Where is Price?"

"In his office, waiting for you."

Jonathan entered the elevator, then headed to the top floor where his luxurious office overlooked the city. There, Price, the man who ran the technical department in the company, was sitting in his chair, with huge papers in front of him showing the details of one of the new projects.

"Jonathan, we have an important meeting with investors today regarding Project Aegis. I think this will be a big step forward."

Jonathan sat behind his desk, then looked out the window, although his eyes were on the files in front of him. His mind was elsewhere,

Was there something else he had to do?

He looked at his computer screen, the city behind him was immersed in daylight, but his mind was moving in the dark.

After a long day of meetings, Jonathan arrived home, where the lights on the top floor indicated that someone was still awake. He was a little late, but he thought of Eva, who was always waiting for him, even though she had become a young woman now.

He entered the house silently, but it was not long before he heard light footsteps heading towards him. It was Eva, his 18-year-old daughter, coming out of her room.

"Dad!" she said in a lively voice, even with the late hours of the night.

Jonathan smiled as he bent down to hug her. "How was your day, Eva?"

"Like any other day, except that I finished presenting my project at university today. It was difficult, but I did it!" she said proudly, then added with a laugh, "I think I'm too old to need your advice now!"

Jonathan laughed as he watched her. Eva had grown and changed a lot since she was a child. "I'm very proud of you, Eva. But I won't stop giving you my advice, no matter how old you get."

"I know, I just hope I can get some independence soon."

He paused for a moment, then said: "And you deserve it. But you also know that I'm always here if you need anything."

Eva smiled gently, then said: "Dad, I just... I love you."

Those simple words filled his heart with happiness. He looked at her, then whispered: "And I love you more than you can imagine."

Then they sat together for a short while, talking about everything and nothing, while the world outside the walls of their house passed quickly, but those small moments made him feel that he still possessed something real, even amidst everything else.

**

In Michael's house,

The bright sunlight streamed in, while Ethan and Michael played tennis on the court. The sound of the ball hitting the racket filled the place from time to time, in a quiet succession.

Ethan stood calmly, watching the ball as it headed towards him. He took a simple step forward and then raised his racket with complete calmness, the sound of the ball hitting the racket "whoosh!", and

Michael jogged slightly to get in position, swinging back. A light thud as the racket met the ball, but Ethan was already in a better spot. He moved smoothly, no rush, just waiting to strike again.

The ball hit the ground with a faint bounce before Ethan stepped in, sending it back over effortlessly.

Michael sprinted, trying to catch up, but no luck. The ball landed right by the line.

Ethan sighed lightly, wiping some sweat off his forehead with a smirk.

Ethan (mocking): "One for me. Looks like your old ass ain't holding up too well."

Michael let out a breath, rubbing his forehead. "Alright, alright. I'm done for today."

Ethan raised a brow with a smirk. "Didn't you say you weren't gonna let me win easy?"

Michael chuckled, setting his racket aside. "Yeah, but I never said I'd make you work hard either."

He walked over to a nearby table, grabbed a towel, and wiped his face before taking a sip from his water bottle. Ethan joined him, leaning back in his chair, looking relaxed.

Ethan (calmly): "Good game."

Michael nodded. "Yeah, but I ain't what I used to be. Gotta train more."

Ethan smirked. "Or maybe... you just gotta accept you ain't never beating me."

Michael laughed, shaking his head. "Man, keep dreaming."

A quiet moment passed, the evening breeze drifting across the court. Michael glanced at the sky for a second before turning his eyes back to Ethan.

Michael: "By the way... how you been?"

Ethan raised a brow. "Been?"

Michael looked at him. "You know… after that last heist. Stepping into the criminal world and all."

Ethan stared at him for a moment before looking away. He took a deep breath before responding in his usual calm voice—except this time, there was something else in his tone, something hard to read.

Ethan: "The criminal world, huh? Funny how you put it like that."

Michael set his water bottle down, looking straight at him. "Don't play dumb, Ethan. You know what I mean."

Ethan smirked slightly but didn't answer right away. His eyes drifted toward the tennis court, where the ball still rested from their last play.

Ethan: "And what makes you think I stepped into that world? One job, and boom... it's over, right?"

Michael shook his head like he wasn't buying it. "It ain't that simple, and you know it. People who get into this... they don't just walk away clean."

Ethan finally looked at him, his gaze carrying a mix of sarcasm and challenge, yet still calm as ever.

Ethan: "Michael, you talkin' like I turned into some mob boss overnight."

Michael let out a small laugh, but his expression didn't change.

Michael: "Maybe not. But I know you, man. You ain't the type to let things slide without thinking 'bout 'em."

Ethan didn't respond right away. He just looked away again, like his mind was somewhere else, lost in thoughts he wasn't ready to share.

Then, after a moment, he grabbed his water bottle, took a small sip, and said in a low voice:

"Let's just say... some doors don't close so easy once they're open."

Michael watched him, then said, "You ain't seen the real criminal world yet. Be careful how deep you go."

Ethan responded casually, "Relax, I know my limits."

Taking a deep breath, Ethan stood up, stretched a bit, then grabbed a towel from the table, wiping his neck. He shot Michael a half-smirk before saying in a quiet voice:

"Fun kicking your ass at tennis, but I gotta bounce. Got some things to take care of."

Michael raised a brow, smirking. "Things, huh? You don't strike me as a guy with a busy schedule."

Ethan let out a small chuckle, tossing the towel aside before grabbing his jacket and slipping it on slowly. "Let's just say... they don't involve chasin' little yellow balls."

Michael shook his head, watching Ethan head for the exit. "Just remember, man—don't let things get outta control, whatever it is you're up to."

Ethan paused for a second, glancing back slightly but not making eye contact. His voice came out calm as ever.

"I'm always in control, Michael."

Then, he walked out with steady steps, leaving Michael behind.

***

The road stretched before him like a long rope of asphalt, winding gently between the bends, under a sky that was beginning to take on the color of a pale twilight. Ethan's fingers rested gently on the steering wheel, while his eyes followed the road unhurriedly. There was no need for speed, and there was no specific destination in his mind—or so it might seem.

Soft music flowed from the speakers, the sound of a faint guitar filled the car with melodies that matched the calmness of the evening. Ethan was not one to tamper much with the music while driving, but sometimes he left it to the radio stations, as if they chose for him what suited his moment without his intervention.

The ocean breeze seeped through the partially open windows, carrying with it the scent of salt and the coming night. The city was gradually moving away from him, the lights receding, becoming less dense, and the towering buildings were replaced by scattered trees and quieter roads.

This road was not familiar to him on a daily basis, but it was not foreign to him either.

A speeding sports car passed him by, its engine roaring loudly before disappearing into the horizon. He did not pay attention to it. He was not in the mood to chase anything today. He just continued driving, in his calm style, as if the whole world was moving at its own pace.

After a few minutes, he saw a small sign on the side of the road, barely illuminated by his car's headlights. He did not stop at it, but slowed down a little, then turned onto a side road paved with soft gravel. The place was not completely isolated, but it was not crowded either—just a quiet spot, away from the hustle and bustle of the city.

He turned off the engine, but did not leave the car immediately.

He let his hands rest on the steering wheel, looking through the windshield ahead, at the long shadows that were beginning to fill the place.

Then, quietly, he opened the door and got out.

The ground beneath his feet was a little cold, although the weather was not very cold. He turned his shoulders slightly, relaxing after the drive, then began to walk unhurriedly.

He could hear a slight rustle of dry leaves under his shoes, and a slight feeling of loneliness, but it was not an unpleasant feeling—rather, it was familiar, as if he had been here more than he would like to admit.

He moved between the rows, his eyes moving without a specific focus, but he knew exactly where he was going. He did not need to look at any signs, his feet knew the way.

After a few moments, he stopped.

In front of him, there was a simple stone slab, nothing exaggerated, no extra decoration, just a name carved neatly

Elizabeth James

Date of Birth – Date of Death

He did not need to read the dates, he knew them well. This day was not just a number on the calendar, but it was a feeling that had accompanied him for years, creeping into him quietly whenever its memory approached, even without the need for a reminder.

He breathed slowly, feeling the cold breeze touching his face, while the sky was tinged with the color of dark twilight. The place was not crowded, and there was no one placing fresh flowers as in the rest of the nearby graves, only fallen leaves and a heavy silence.

He looked around as if he was waiting for someone, before smiling a bitter smile and saying sarcastically: "Didn't come this time either."

He bent down slightly, and with a quiet movement, reached out to remove a dry leaf that was stuck at the edge of the stone. He was not thinking of any words to say, but he remained there, standing, his eyes not leaving the name.

It was not the usual feeling of sadness, but something calmer, and deeper. He was not trying to remember her voice or her features, as they had never left him, but were in his mind all the time, in the times he did not talk about them, in the small moments that others avoid, but he feels them.

He ran his fingers over the stone for a moment, then straightened up. He did not bring flowers with him, and he did not intend to stay long. But he, as every year, came. Just to be here, even if there was nothing else to say.

Ethan stood in front of the grave as he does every year, his eyes calm, but his mind crowded with thoughts that he had not expressed for a long time. The cold breeze moved the edges of his coat, while the sky was a mixture of gray twilight and the shadows of the encroaching night.

He was not alone.

A few steps away, at a neighboring grave, a girl was standing.

He had seen her before.

He did not know her name, he had never spoken to her, but he saw her here every year, on the same day, with the same calmness that he lived in. She did not do anything special, just stood, as he did.

A young girl, not seeming very old, perhaps in her late teens or early twenties. Her long black hair fell freely over her shoulders, contrasting with her pale skin that reflected the dim moonlight. She was wearing a long gray coat, and her arms were folded in front of her as if she was protecting herself from the cold, or perhaps from something else.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye for a moment, then returned his gaze to the grave in front of him.

A minute passed, perhaps more, then he turned to go back to his car, but he saw her moving as well. Her steps were slow but not hesitant, as if she was used to this place, and to this routine.

At the gate of the cemetery, he stopped for a moment, took out his keys, but felt her gaze before he turned.

The girl looked at him, not a fleeting glance, but as if she finally acknowledged his presence after all those silent encounters. For a moment, she seemed about to say something, but he did not rush her.

He raised his eyebrow slightly, as if waiting.

But she said nothing in the end. She just gave him a steady look, then turned and walked away.

Ethan looked in her direction and asked: "Where... is your car?"

The girl turned towards Ethan in surprise, as if she did not expect him to speak to her. Her wide eyes, which seemed brighter under the dim moonlight, stared at him for a moment before she replied in a soft, shy voice.

"I... I usually walk. I don't have a car here."

Ethan noticed her shyness, as if she was not used to talking to strangers. He looked at her understandingly, then glanced around at the quiet road leading to the cemetery. The place was far from the city, and it was not easy to reach on foot, especially at this time of night.

"This is a long way to walk alone, especially at this time."

The girl looked at the ground, as if she felt some embarrassment. "I... I know. But I'm used to it. The place... calms me down."

Ethan did not comment on that, but nodded his head slightly. Then he looked at his car, then back at her. "Would you like a ride? The city is not far, but... the night can be unsafe."

The girl hesitated for a moment, as if she was weighing the options in her mind. Then she looked at him with obvious shyness, as if she felt embarrassed to accept help. "Thank you, but I... I don't want to bother you."

Ethan smiled slightly, trying to dispel her shyness. "You won't be a bother. I'm going to the city anyway. I can easily give you a ride."

The girl looked at him again, as if she was trying to read his intentions. Then she shook her head gently, as if she was finally deciding. "Okay... if you're sure I won't bother you."

"Of course not." Ethan said with a reassuring smile. "Come on, the car is here."

Layla had a slender body, as if it was carved smoothly, reminiscent of the shadows of trees on a stormy day. Her height was not exceptional, but it was proportionate to her slim build, which seemed to carry a striking fragility. Her shoulders were narrow, and her waist was well-proportioned, as if it was designed to harmonize with her light steps that made no sound even on the gravel. Her hands were delicate, with long fingers that moved lightly when touching things, as if she was afraid of breaking them.

When she sat in the Bentley seat, her shoulders leaned forward slightly, as an unconscious habit to minimize her presence in the luxurious space. Her wide gray coat hid some of the details of her body, but it could not hide the softness of the curves of her neck that protruded from under her thick black hair. Her legs were folded side by side, as if she was trying not to occupy more space than necessary.

When she turned to him, Ethan noticed how her hazel eyes lit up a soft oval face, with rosy cheeks that showed a slight blush whenever she felt embarrassed. Her small, straight nose, and her mouth that resembled a rosebud before it blooms, gave her an innocent character. Even when she smiled, her lips seemed delicate, retreating quickly, as if she was hiding her joy behind a veil of shyness.

Every movement of hers carried a strange contradiction: slenderness that hid a hidden strength, and shyness that shone through curiosity that was not acknowledged. Even her breathing was quiet, as if she was breathing to remain visible as little as possible.

While the girl was sitting in the car

As the girl sat in the car seat, she glanced around with a shy curiosity, like she was trying not to seem too impressed by the luxury interior. Her fingers lightly brushed over the soft leather, while her eyes kept drifting to the shiny dashboard. She didn't say anything, but Ethan noticed how her gaze kept landing on the Bentley emblem on the steering wheel.

"You know what kind of car this is?" Ethan asked calmly, trying to break the ice without making her uncomfortable.

Her head snapped up, like she got caught. "Uh… yeah. It's a Bentley Continental, an older model." Her voice was quiet, but there was a hint of confidence when she spoke about something she knew.

Ethan raised a brow, a little surprised. "You know cars."

She shrugged slightly. "My dad… used to work on luxury cars. I picked up a few things from him."

Ethan smirked as he turned his eyes back to the road. "This one's a 2018 model. Not the fastest, but… reliable." He paused for a second, then asked, "What's your name?"

The girl looked at him, like she was hesitating before she whispered, "Lila."

"Lila…" Ethan repeated the name slowly, like he was testing how it felt. "Nice name. I'm Ethan."

"I know." She said quickly, then her cheeks flushed. "I mean… I heard your dad call you that last time. At the cemetery."

Ethan let out a soft chuckle. "If you already knew my name, why didn't you tell me yours before?"

"You never asked." She replied innocently, then gave him a small, fleeting smile—like a glimpse of light in the dark.

Ethan steered the car onto a quiet side street, following her direction. "You live here?" he asked, nodding toward a set of old apartment buildings.

"Yeah," she murmured, grabbing her small bag. "Thanks for the ride… and the car was really nice, by the way."

Before she got out, she turned back to him. "Are you gonna be at the cemetery next year? Same day?"

Ethan met her gaze, which suddenly seemed bolder. "Maybe. You?"

"Maybe." She echoed his answer with a hint of challenge, then disappeared into the building.

Ethan stayed there for a few seconds, hands resting on the Bentley's wheel, watching as Lila walked inside. Then, he drove off.