Jack Sullivan pulled up outside Lisa’s estate in his jet-black SUV. He stepped out, dressed sharp in a tailored suit that spoke of power without the need for logos or flash. He was here for Rawon’s wedding, but truthfully, his mind was already drifting back to his training and the rare materials he needed. Still, a promise was a promise.Lisa stepped out of the front door, a vision in a soft blue dress that hugged her figure just right, her hair pinned with subtle elegance. “You’re on time,” she said, surprised.Jack smirked. “Don’t act so shocked. You said it was important.”She smiled. “It is.”Just then, a silver Bentley pulled up behind Jack’s car. The engine purred like its owner wanted the world to know he’d finally made it.Nie Mitchell hopped out, grinning ear to ear. He wore a sleek gray suit and sunglasses a shade too flashy for his personality, but the pride in his stride was unmistakable. “Jack! Lisa!” he greeted them with open arms.From the passenger seat, Heather Reed st

The sleek black Bentley purred up the driveway of the Brooks family mansion, its polished exterior reflecting sunlight like a rolling mirror. Inside, tension mingled with luxury leather.Jack Sullivan sat in the backseat, expression unreadable as always, legs crossed, one arm resting casually against the window. Lisa sat beside him, eyes dancing between amusement and disbelief.In the front passenger seat, Heather Reed was holding court again.“I’m telling you,” she said, flipping her freshly styled hair, “this wedding is crawling with power. But none of them compare to Mr. Sullivan. The one from Carson City. Absolute powerhouse. Even the Brooks family respects him. Lionel Brooks said it himself.”Jack arched a brow but said nothing. Lisa covered her mouth to stifle a smirk.“I read in a finance column,” Heather continued, “that he’s taken over half the influence in Westport. Supposedly, he’s behind the fall of Lucas Carter, and Colonel Harris—poof, vanished. Can you believe it?”Lisa

Heather Reed stormed out of the venue, her heels clicking furiously against the marble floor as she dialed Maria with trembling fingers.“Maria!” she hissed into the phone, breath ragged. “You need to come. Now. It’s Derek. He’s been—he’s been beaten, and it’s not just that. You need to see who did it.”“What?! Beaten?!” Maria’s voice cracked through the speaker. “Where are you?”“The reception hall. Hurry!”Maria arrived minutes later, breathless, gown flowing behind her like a trail of chaos. She pushed through the crowd only to see Derek sprawled across the floor, face drenched in red wine, struggling to speak through a busted lip.“Oh my God,” she gasped. “What happened to you?”Derek groaned, spitting out blood. “It was him—Jack Sullivan! That bastard humiliated me! Call my father! Call Uncle Warren! They’ll make him pay!”Heather stood nearby, arms crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes darting between Jack and the growing crowd.Jack Sullivan, calm and composed, leaned back i

The air in the reception hall crackled with tension. Jack Sullivan’s fury was palpable, his eyes cold as they locked onto Victor Lawrence and his son Derek, who was still trying to steady himself after the humiliation. Jack’s fingers curled into a fist at his side, the anger burning beneath his calm exterior.“You think I’m done?” Jack’s voice was low, icy, and every word dripped with menace. “No, Victor. This ends now.”Victor’s jaw tightened, and he stood taller, attempting to retain his pride. “You’ve made your point, Mr. Sullivan. But my son is not some animal you can—”“I’m not done with you yet,” Jack interrupted, his gaze shifting to Derek. “Both of you need to kneel. Now. Apologize.”Derek’s face twisted in fury. “You think I’m going to kneel to you? You’ve got another thing coming!”Victor’s hand clenched at his side, his mind racing. He could feel the power shift in the room, and the realization hit him like a ton of bricks—this was Jack’s territory. This was Carson City. Th

Matthew groaned on the leather couch, a towel pressed against the hole in his ribs where Jack's finger had almost turned him into a human donut. Jack stood nearby, arms crossed, eyes gleaming with a mix of curiosity and warning.“You stink,” Jack said bluntly. “Like rotting lizard mixed with cheap poison.”Matthew winced. “That’s not my cologne.”Jack knelt beside him. “Don’t play games. That smell on you—what is it? Start talking before I turn the other side of you into Swiss cheese.”Matthew swallowed hard. “It’s from Scorpion Hollow… in Pine Ridge. I went there two weeks ago with Victor Lawrence. We were looking for some rare creatures.”Jack’s eyes narrowed. “Scorpion Hollow? You telling me you stepped into that death trap?”“Not willingly!” Matthew coughed. “Victor said we’d find something useful. There were mutated scorpions, the size of dogs—vicious. Nearly everyone got wiped out. I… I got bit.”Jack leaned in, now genuinely intrigued. Scorpion Hollow... that place was just a l