Kelan’s stomach twisted as the queen of hearts shimmered on the table, the final card that sealed his fate. Four of a kind—aces, beaten by a straight flush.The Triad leader’s grin stretched wide, smug satisfaction oozing from his every pore as he raked the massive pile of chips toward him. Stacked towers of reds, blues, and golds, the last remnants of Kelan’s pride, vanished in an instant.Kelan tried to keep his face neutral, but panic clawed at his insides, tightening his chest with every breath. He had been so damn sure that he had it.Those aces felt like destiny, a sign that he was back on top. Now, they were nothing but a reminder of his failures—worthless paper like all his broken promises.“Well, that was fun,” the Triad leader drawled, lighting a cigar with a deliberate flick of his gold lighter. He exhaled a cloud of thick smoke, letting it hang lazily in the air, a bitter symbol of Kelan’s defeat.Sergei, the host of tonight’s game, leaned back in his chair, tapping the ta
The early morning sun was just starting to break over the skyline of Velyki, casting a golden hue across the city as Conor and Kerrigan’s convoy rolled to a stop in front of Elena Marchand’s law firm.The building was a stately structure of glass and stone, its entrance flanked by wide steps that now served as the stage for a much-anticipated press briefing.The team had flown through the night, exhaustion etched into the faces of the dragoons and soldiers who fanned out behind Conor and Kerrigan. They stood resolute, their uniforms sharp and their stances ready.Kerrigan and Conor were dressed in their matching outfits—a powerful blend of Celia’s deep ocean blue and Abraxas’s forest green, symbolizing their united front. The duo radiated strength and determination, their presence commanding the attention of every camera and reporter gathered.Provincial troops, provided by the Duke of Targu, formed an additional line of defense, their presence a reminder of the heightened stakes. The
The atmosphere inside Elena Marchand’s law firm was thick with tension, but also a sense of controlled triumph. The team had just faced a relentless media storm and had come out unscathed, steering the narrative in their favor.As they filed into the conference room, a heavy silence settled over them, the weight of the battle they were fighting evident on every face.Kerrigan and Conor took seats at the long table, flanked by Colonel Eli, Sorcha, Reilynn, and Parker. The Dragoons, ever watchful, stood positioned near the exits, their eyes sharp and their senses on high alert.Elena Marchand and Cara Johnson were already seated, reviewing notes and updates from the press briefing.Sorcha, who had been standing near the window, finally spoke up, breaking the silence. Her voice was cautious, yet tinged with frustration. “I still don’t get it. Why didn’t we just name Kelan? Isn’t he the one pulling the strings? He’s the main focus, isn’t he?”Kerrigan glanced at Conor, then back to Sorcha
The rhythmic clatter of the train wheels against the tracks filled the carriage as the team made their way to Jinstain. The journey provided a rare moment of respite from the whirlwind of strategy meetings, press briefings, and legal maneuvering that had defined their last few days.The luxurious train car, reserved for heads of state and top officials, was spacious and elegantly appointed, but the team occupied it like soldiers on a campaign, their weapons never far from reach.Sorcha sat by one of the wide windows, watching the rolling countryside blur by in shades of green and gold. Her mind, however, was not on the passing scenery. Instead, she found herself quietly observing her new teammates.She had been welcomed into this close-knit circle, but she still felt like the outsider looking in, trying to learn the rhythms of a dance that had been choreographed long before her arrival.She glanced across the aisle at Reilynn, who was sharpening her dagger with methodical precision. T
The train ride into Jinstain was a beautiful sight, the city’s skyline appearing on the horizon like jagged teeth rising from the sea. The sun hung low, casting long shadows over the bustling metropolis.Autumn had touched the city gently; a cool breeze blew in from the ocean, but it was a far cry from the colder mountain winds of Velyki. The air was warm enough to remind them that summer had only recently departed.As the train pulled into the station, Conor and Kerrigan exchanged a knowing glance. They were in enemy territory now, navigating a province where Gregor Benedict’s influence reigned supreme. Jinstain was a city of power and secrets, and the Benedicts had their hands in both.The dragoons moved efficiently, escorting Conor, Kerrigan, and the team off the train and into waiting SUVs. Faolan padded silently at their side, her keen eyes darting around as she sniffed the air. Sorcha and Reilynn were immediately on high alert, scanning every shadow, every rooftop.“This place h
The team’s convoy wound through the outskirts of Jinstain, leaving the towering skyline behind as they ventured into the more rural part of the province. The roads became narrower, framed by dense clusters of trees that stood as sentinels against the creeping tide of urban development.The farther they traveled, the more Conor felt the tension in his shoulders ease. There was something liberating about the open spaces, the absence of towering buildings, and the subtle hum of city life.Parker guided the convoy toward Kerrigan’s Jinstain residence, a place she had called her own for only a few short months but had already come to cherish. The house was a stately old home, surrounded by lush greenery and nestled on ten sprawling acres of land that backed up to a vast, untouched forest.It had once belonged to a respected judge, an upstanding figure whose legacy was as much a part of the house as its walls and windows.“I never realized how much I missed this place,” Kerrigan said softly
The late afternoon sun bathed the grounds of Kerrigan’s Jinstain home in a warm, golden glow, casting long shadows that danced with the gentle sway of the trumpet vine blossoms.The vibrant flowers, still clinging to life in the early days of autumn, painted the landscape with bursts of red and orange. Hummingbirds flitted from bloom to bloom, their wings a blur of iridescent color, and the crisp air carried the faint scent of pine and earth.Kerrigan and Conor stepped away from the house, leaving behind the bustle of their team as they crossed the lawn. Conor had signaled to the Dragoons subtly, and one by one, they drifted toward the edges of the property, giving him and Kerrigan a moment of privacy.Reilynn and Sorcha stood a few yards away, Reilynn giving Sorcha a quick lesson on commands for Faolan, who bounded playfully through the grass, her ears perked up and tail wagging.“This place is stunning,” Conor said, taking in the surroundings. “I can see why you chose it.”Kerrigan
Kerrigan’s Jinstain home was usually a sanctuary, a place where she could momentarily forget the weight of her responsibilities and the dangers looming at every corner. But today, the estate was tainted by a fresh wound—a wound that had Kerrigan fuming and ready to take action.Sandra Banks had crossed a line.After spotting the missing DragonWood trees yesterday, Kerrigan wasted no time in calling Mr. Nuri. The ancient trees were protected under crown law, considered a national treasure of Golan, and symbolized a deep connection to the land and heritage.Cutting down even one was a severe crime, but five? This was more than a slight. It was a brazen act of disrespect—and likely a calculated power move, driven by Sandra’s connection to the Benedicts and her ambition to expand her property.The morning air was tense as the team gathered in Kerrigan’s living room. Mr. Nuri was seated at the large oak dining table, surrounded by stacks of law books and papers detailing property regulatio