The Silver Crescent Clan’s headquarters was a bit rowdy with murmurs. Rarely did the entire council and clan membership convene, especially at that time and even rarer still was a meeting called by someone like Lenox. Clan members filled the room, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and expectations. At the center of it all stood Lenox, composed, his face set in an expression of stoic determination.He surveyed the room, subtly surprised at the turnout. Members of the clan had responded to his summons in greater numbers than he anticipated, but he masked his surprise with the air of confidence that had always been his armor. This was his moment.He cleared his throat, and the room fell silent. His voice, when he spoke, was steady, commanding.“Brothers of the Silver Crescent Clan, We gather here today at a critical juncture in our history. It is no secret that our clan has faced a series of unprecedented challenges in the past few days. The recent attack on Maxwell, our new es

Richard and Fiona slipped out of Maxwell’s hospital room as quietly as possible, their movements careful, as though the tension between them and Katherine might erupt at any moment. The air inside the room was thick with tension. Emma, remained the defiant figure, insisted on staying, claiming it was for Maxwell’s sake, though everyone could see it was just as much for her own.The corridor was quiet, except for the hum of fluorescent lights and the shuffle of nurses’ shoes. Richard and Fiona settled onto the benches just outside the door, the kind designed more for purpose than comfort. Fiona sat with her arms folded tightly across her chest, her lips pressed into a thin line and a disapproving look.“He couldn’t wait, could he? Emma was in and out of the hospital, and he’s off playing romantic games with the first woman who catches his eye,”Fiona said after a long silence, her voice low and sharp.Richard sighed, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “Fiona, you’re bei

The room was as silent as the grave. Alphonse Quentin's mansion’s grand dining hall. The table was a masterpiece of dark oak, stretching across the room like a battlefield waiting for bloodshed. Around it sat seven men and all belonging to the Silver Crescent Clan, they were supposed to be bound by lineage and loyalty to the clan but torn apart by their individual ambition.Lenox stood at the head of the table, his presence commanding every eye in the room. The chandelier above reflected off the silver crescent pin on his lapel, a symbol of his claim to leadership. He had inherited this mansion from his late father, the former patriarch, but the fact that he had four of the guards murdered after killing his own father and poisoning Maxwell was now known to the clan, had caused it to be splintered. Now, it was war.His sharp eyes scanned the faces of his allies men who had chosen to align themselves with him instead of Maxwell or Marcus. Lenox knew this alliance was held together b

Katherine's heels clicked on the polished hospital floors as she approached Maxwell's bedside. Each and every move echoed in her ear as her thoughts began to fill up. At the center of it all was Emma, Maxwell’s ex-wife, she had just listened to her declare her love for him publicly, unapologetically, and in a way that refused to be ignored.How could she compete with a past like theirs? She thought to herself. A connection that had been tight enough to bring them to the point of marriage. She pushed the door open and was met with the sound of the monitors and the antiseptic smell in the air. Maxwell lay still on the bed. He brought a certain calm as she looked at him despite the storm in the depths of her mind. She reached the bed side, sat down in the chair and held his hand in hers. That seemed to bring her a moment of temporary comfort. Just being alone with him, alone in a quiet room.But the fear lingered in her mind. What if Emma was coming back? What if she wanted to g

Reflections from the morning sun poured in through the tall windows of the dining room, light shone across the wooden dining table. Alfred was sitting opposite his father, Marcus, who was carefully spreading butter on one slice of bread in a calm manner. The room was very still, except for the occasional sound of cutlery and the gentle rustling of paper as Marcus turned a page in his newspaper.For Alfred, the calmness seemed temporary, The current state of leadership of the clan left little room for relaxation, even over breakfast. His mind kept going through strategies and maneuvers, the idea of Lenox's treachery forged each step of his thought.The serenity was shattered by the sound of a gunshot and an echo reverberating through the walls of the house.Marcus was startled and his hand jerked, which made the butter knife drop on the table. “What in the world?” he exclaimed.Alfred’s instincts kicked in immediately. He got up from the chair, dashing to defend his father. His sh