Ethan's mind raced as he stared at the man before him, disheveled and trembling. The revelation of a man disguised as a maid sent ripples of confusion and alarm through the room. The guests, huddled together, exchanged frantic whispers, their eyes wide with shock. Ethan, however, forced himself to remain calm, his instincts as a leader kicking in. He needed answers, and fast.The man, now stripped of his disguise, looked up at Ethan with a mix of fear and defiance. His face, once obscured by heavy makeup, was now a patchwork of smeared foundation and sweat, revealing sharp features beneath. His eyes darted around the room like a cornered animal, searching for any escape. But there was none. The guests had formed a makeshift barrier, their fear palpable but their curiosity stronger."Who are you?" Ethan's voice was firm, leaving no room for evasion. "And why were you pretending to be a maid?"The man swallowed hard, his throat bobbing nervously. For a moment, it seemed as though he mig
Jason returned to the woman, trying to mask the fury that still bubbled beneath his skin. The delicate balance of power he maintained with his victims was something he cherished, and Mark's incompetence threatened to shatter it. The woman's gaze met his as she tried to read his expression, but he quickly replaced his irritation with a disarming smile."Where were we?" he repeated, sliding back into his seat beside her. He placed his hand on her thigh once more, the gesture meant to reestablish control, but his mind was elsewhere, still racing with thoughts of Mark’s failure. He couldn’t afford to let loose ends linger, not when they could jeopardize everything he had carefully built.The woman leaned closer, her voice a soft murmur, "You seemed upset. Is everything okay?"Jason forced a laugh, running a hand through his hair. "Just business, sweetheart. Nothing you need to worry about." He leaned in and kissed her neck lightly, tasting the cheap perfume she wore. It was a sickly sweet
The cold, unforgiving lights of the underground ring buzzed overhead, casting eerie shadows across the gritty, sweat-stained floor. Alex could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the rapid thump echoing in his ears like the drumming of war. The crowd around him was a seething mass of bodies, their faces hidden in the gloom, save for the occasional flicker of hungry eyes or the gleam of a twisted smile. They were here for blood, and Alex could sense it—a collective thirst that hung in the air like a thick, poisonous fog."First time?" The man in the leather jacket, who had introduced himself as Mike, asked as he handed Alex a pair of worn-out gloves. They smelled of sweat and fear, the leather cracked from years of abuse.Alex nodded, his mouth dry as sandpaper. "Yeah," he croaked, barely able to get the word out. He glanced around the dingy room, his eyes taking in the faded posters of past fights plastered on the walls, the broken bottles littering the floor, and the graffiti that
The tension in the room was palpable, the air thick with anticipation. Kenji’s men, who moments ago were loyal soldiers, now had a gleam of greed in their eyes. Five million dollars was a life-changing sum, enough to make even the most loyal question their allegiance.Kenji sensed the shift, his confident smirk faltering for just a fraction of a second. He had always ruled through fear, but he knew that money could sway even the most fearsome of his men. His eyes darted from one man to the next, searching for signs of betrayal. He could feel the walls closing in, his power slipping away like sand through his fingers.“What are you all waiting for?” Kenji barked, his voice laced with desperation. “You work for me! Are you really going to turn on me for money?”The old man remained calm, watching the chaos he had unleashed. His expression was unreadable, a masterful poker face that betrayed nothing. He had thrown the room into turmoil with a single sentence, and now he waited to see how
Jason’s footsteps echoed through the penthouse as he left the unconscious woman behind, the sound rhythmic and controlled—much like everything else in his life. The night was quiet, almost serene, as he moved through the darkness, but his mind was anything but calm. Every thought was a calculated move, every decision a step toward maintaining his meticulously constructed empire.He walked into his study, a room that was as cold and impersonal as the man himself. The walls were lined with books he’d never read, their spines uncracked, more for show than anything else. A large, imposing desk dominated the room, and he approached it with the same measured pace, his hand reaching for a sleek, black laptop.As the screen flickered to life, Jason’s eyes scanned through the information displayed. He was pulling up everything he had on Mark, the idiot who had almost jeopardized his entire operation. Mark had been a useful tool, but tools that became liabilities were discarded quickly. Jason h
Alex’s knees throbbed as they made contact with the gritty floor of the ring. His victory over Crusher should have felt like triumph, like a hard-earned success, but instead, it was a hollow accomplishment—one that left him both physically and mentally drained. The taste of blood lingered in his mouth, metallic and bitter, mingling with the sweat that dripped down his face. His breaths were ragged, each inhale burning as if his lungs were on fire.The crowd was still roaring, their bloodlust momentarily sated by the spectacle they had witnessed. They didn’t care who won or lost, only that they had been entertained. To them, Alex was just another fighter, another body in the ring to be cheered for or jeered at, depending on how the fight went.Mike pulled Alex to his feet, his grip firm but not without a hint of pride. "You did good, kid," he said, his voice barely audible over the noise. "Didn’t think you had it in you, but you proved me wrong."Alex swayed on his feet, struggling to
As the adrenaline began to fade, the weight of Alex's exhaustion pressed down on him like a heavy blanket. Every muscle in his body screamed in protest, each breath a reminder of the punishment he had endured. But despite the pain, there was a small spark of triumph burning within him. He had won—against all odds, he had survived the ring.Mike helped Alex to his feet, his grip firm but supportive. "You okay, kid?" he asked, his voice tinged with a mix of concern and approval.Alex nodded, though he wasn't sure how true that was. "Yeah... I think so." His voice came out raspy, barely audible over the lingering cheers of the crowd."Good. Because there's no time to celebrate. You need to get out of here, fast."Alex blinked, trying to process Mike's words. "What? Why?"Mike leaned in closer, his expression suddenly serious. "You made a name for yourself tonight, Alex. You took down Crusher—nobody does that on their first night. But that also means you've drawn attention, and not the go
FLASHBACKGerald sat in the dimly lit study, the echo of the door closing behind his assistant fading into the distance. The room, once a sanctuary of his carefully orchestrated schemes, now felt suffocating, as if the walls were closing in on him. The note with the ominous tree symbol lay on his desk like a coiled serpent, ready to strike. He leaned back in his chair, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of the situation.Who were these people? The Tree Clan? The name conjured up vague memories of ancient rivalries, long-forgotten bloodlines that were supposed to have faded into obscurity. But the threat in the note was very real, and it sent a chill down Gerald's spine that he hadn’t felt in years.“Step down?” he muttered to himself, his voice filled with disbelief. “Not in this lifetime.”His mind, usually so sharp and calculated, felt clouded by the unexpected turn of events. He had underestimated Ethan, assuming the man was too weakened by scandal and betrayal to fight back