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
Sandra Banks sat at the head of the table, surrounded by the city’s elite. The private dining room of Jinstain’s most exclusive country club was a lavish affair, complete with sparkling chandeliers and plush velvet chairs. It was a favorite haunt for the city’s most influential women—the wives, mothers, and daughters of power, the unseen architects of Jinstain’s social fabric.Seated beside Sandra was Cynthia Cochan, looking every bit the matriarch in her tailored cream suit, her fingers adorned with sparkling jewels that caught the afternoon light.Her daughter, Jessica Cochan, sat next to her, radiating an air of detached elegance. The conversation flowed freely, a blend of gossip, veiled insults, and thinly disguised power plays that filled the room with an undercurrent of competition.Sandra watched the interaction with satisfaction. These lunches were about more than socializing; they were about reinforcing alliances, gauging weaknesses, and planning the next move. Today, her fo
Sandra Banks sat at the head of the table, watching the ladies around her chat and laugh. The light filtering through the windows of the upscale restaurant gave everything a warm glow, but it did little to ease the simmering frustration that had been gnawing at her all afternoon.Jessica Cochan had excused herself to take a call, leaving Sandra with Cynthia and the others, but Sandra’s mind was elsewhere.Cynthia’s earlier comment about receiving a new backer for their failing mall echoed in her ears. It didn’t sit right. Sandra knew the financial scene in Jinstain better than anyone.The Banks family ran Jinstain Bank and Trust, the city's largest financial institution, and if Cynthia’s family was struggling, it would have been Nyman who would’ve told her about any new deals. But there had been no mention of a new backer or loan.Sandra excused herself and took out her phone and dialed Nyman. He picked up after the third ring, sounding slightly annoyed.“Mom, I’m busy,” Nyman said, h
The team arrived at the original community center, a modest, weather-beaten building that stood in stark contrast to the new, nearly finished structure a few blocks away.The old center had seen better days; its faded paint, cracked windows, and the worn steps at the entrance were testaments to the years of service it had provided to the people of Jinstain.Despite its rundown appearance, the building buzzed with life, and the spirit of the community’s youth thrived within its walls.Conor stepped out of the car first, taking in the sight with a mix of nostalgia and determination. This was where it all began for his mother—her vision of a place where children and families could find support, learn, and grow.Kerrigan followed close behind, her eyes scanning the surroundings, always alert but softened by the familiar warmth of this place. Faolan bounded out, sniffing the air with her usual curiosity, while Sorcha and Reilynn moved to take their positions, staying vigilant yet discreet.
Kelan Benedict sat in the dimly lit VIP lounge of his private club, a cigarette burning low between his fingers, the smoke curling lazily upward.The music thumped in the background, a hypnotic beat that was meant to keep patrons in a trance, spending money, losing themselves in whatever vice he had to offer. But tonight, even the pounding bass couldn't drown out the rage simmering inside him.The club was housed in a forgotten warehouse on the outskirts of Velyki, officially owned by Dragon Corporation. Of course, no one at the company knew that Kelan had repurposed the space into an exclusive and highly illegal nightclub, a haven for the city’s elite to indulge in whatever their hearts desired—drugs, gambling, women, and every excess that came with them.Kelan glanced at the array of newspapers spread out on the table in front of him. He slammed a fist down, rattling the crystal glasses as his eyes fixed on the damning headlines."David Grain Arrested in Velyki—Charges Include Drug
Nyman Banks entered Kelan’s private box in the dimly lit nightclub, the air thick with the smell of expensive cigars and spilled liquor. Music thumped in the background, but inside the glass-walled room, the sound was muted, creating a bubble of tense quiet. Nyman’s eyes scanned the room, taking in the opulence—the plush leather seats, the low amber lighting, and Kelan Benedict lounging like a king on his throne.Kelan didn’t bother to look up as Nyman entered. Instead, he tossed a crumpled newspaper across the table. The headline screamed back at Nyman: DRAGON CORPORATION BOARD MEMBERS INDICTED—CORRUPTION AND CRIME EXPOSED. The photos of David Grain, Walter Kagan, and Ron Sophel were plastered under the bold letters, their faces marked with the wear of men whose dirty secrets had been dragged into the light.“That bitch Kerrigan is mucking up my plans,” Kelan spat, his voice dripping with fury. “Please tell me you have some good news.”Nyman hesitated, feeling the weight of Kelan’s a