The wind whipped fiercely at the top of the skyscraper, carrying with it the distant hum of the bustling city below. The group of masked men stood like silent shadows, barely visible against the dark night sky. They were dressed in black from head to toe, with ninja-like masks that concealed their faces, leaving only their eyes visible. Each of them had a sleek, lethal aura, their presence melding into the deep darkness of the rooftop.From up there, the city looked almost insignificant. The streets, filled with the movement of cars, buses, and pedestrians, seemed like the flow of tiny ants, endlessly scurrying from one place to another. The occasional flash of headlights pierced the dim haze, casting brief, flickering beams across the asphalt. The towering buildings around them were like sentinels of concrete and steel, but none as tall as the one they stood on.Far below, the honks of impatient traffic, the murmurs of late-night conversations, and the distant rhythm of the city’

As the heavy door of the war room shut behind the two departing generals, the Tree Heir remained standing at the window, his dark, brooding eyes still focused on the city below. The gentle hum of the city filtered through the glass, but his mind was already turning to the next phase of his plan. He had a long way to go, and the time for subtlety was nearly over.A soft knock broke the silence, and without waiting for a response, the door slowly creaked open. Kiara, his second-in-command, walked in, her long, graceful strides and regal presence filling the room. Beside her was Jackson, he was the newest in their operation. His face was calm, but his posture was tense, betraying a mix of nervousness and awe as they both bowed low before the Tree Heir.“Your Excellency,” they said in unison.Jackson, straightened up after the bow, his voice tinged with respect as he spoke. “It’s an honor to finally meet you face to face, Your Excellency. Until now, all your instructions have come throu

The bedroom was cold, its vastness echoing with a silence that felt heavier with each passing night. Denera lay on one side of the bed, the empty space next to her stretching out like a reminder of everything she had lost. She stared at the ceiling, her thoughts running in circles. Her eyes, which once sparkled with determination and fire, now carried a weariness she had never known. The absence of Rhys weighed on her heart like an anchor dragging her deeper into an emotional abyss.Another night alone.She shifted slightly under the heavy duvet, pulling it closer around her, but no matter how tightly she cocooned herself, the emptiness beside her was undeniable. There was no warmth, no steady breath of her husband lying next to her, no familiar presence that had once made her feel safe. The tension between them hadn’t subsided, and with every day that passed, the distance grew larger.Each morning was the same. She would wake up alone, go through her day with her mind elsewhere,

Denera sat in the dimly lit room, a half-empty glass of liquor in her hand, its amber contents catching the faint glow of the overhead lamp. She took occasional sips, her lips brushing the rim of the glass, but the burn of the alcohol did little to numb her racing thoughts. The silence of the room was oppressive, broken only by the faint clink of the glass as she set it down on the table beside her. Rhys’s words haunted her, echoing in her mind with a cruel persistence: *“I need time to myself.”* No matter how much she drank, no matter how hard she tried to push those words away, they clung to her, refusing to be drowned out. She clenched her jaw, gripping the glass tighter in frustration.“Damn you, Jason,” she muttered under her breath, her voice low but venomous.It was Jason who had caused this. Jason, her brother, whose reckless actions had shattered her marriage and driven a wedge between her and the one person she could truly call her partner. Rhys wasn’t blameless—he had

The deep hum of engines broke through the stillness of the night as a five-truck convoy sped down an isolated road. Their headlights pierced the darkness, casting fleeting beams of light on the twisted trees lining either side of the road. In the middle truck sat the old man, his sharp eyes scanning the empty landscape through the tinted windows. The world outside was silent, except for the low growl of the vehicles and the occasional rustle of leaves as the wind swept through the night. He leaned against the window, his weathered face reflecting in the glass as he gazed out, his thoughts heavy, miles away.It was nearing midnight, the perfect time for a discreet relocation. The old man’s men had learned long ago that they could not afford to be careless. Moving in the dead of night had become a necessary tactic in their war of shadows, a way to stay one step ahead of those hunting them. He was a man of many years, his body worn but his mind sharp as ever. His hands rested on hi