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The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 50
Klaus watched her go. Watched the curve of her back as she entered the gleaming new Jeep he'd handpicked for her. The engine purred to life, a low, seductive growl that echoed down the driveway of his estate. She didn’t look back—Isabella never looked back. Not when she had made up her mind. That was what made her dangerous. And god, did Klaus respect that. As the taillights disappeared into the late afternoon haze, Klaus felt it—the sharp thrum of anticipation in his chest. Their alliance, initially forged in cold calculation and mutual ambition, was becoming something more... electric. Unspoken desires, shared glances, a wariness wrapped in understanding. He didn’t know where it would lead, but he knew one thing: he couldn’t afford to slip. Klaus Whitlock didn’t take chances. Neither did Isabella. They were a force now. A reckoning. And nothing—absolutely nothing—could stand in their way. --- Back at his suite in Thera Grand Hotels, Klaus leaned against the glass wall, h
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 51
“Tasha,” Klaus said, slipping his hand into the inner pocket of his coat, “is this how you treat every customer who walks in here?” Her jaw kept moving—slow, lazy chewing—like he was the most boring part of her day. She didn’t look at him. Didn’t even acknowledge the question with a blink. “You do realize I’ve been standing here for fifteen minutes,” Klaus continued, voice level and cool, yet carrying an edge that sliced through the air. “Ignored. Interrupted. Mocked.” Tasha rolled her eyes like a teenager caught in detention. “Sir, if you don’t have an appointment, I can’t help you. That’s protocol. You don’t just waltz in and expect to see the CEO.” Cassandra let out a half-laugh, more scoff than amusement. “This is your idea of customer service?” The remark floated in the air just loud enough to sting. Tasha didn’t miss a beat. “And you? You think designer heels and a man’s arm put you above the rules? This is DHL Logistics, not the Met Gala.” Cassandra’s mouth parted
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 52
She crumpled to her knees, trembling, voice cracking with desperation—but Klaus was already walking away. No hesitation. No mercy. Cassandra watched the woman silently, then tilted her head toward Klaus. “Too harsh?” “Too late,” Klaus said without turning. He paused at Damian’s side, took a breath that felt like a verdict, and met his eyes. “Now,” Klaus said, smooth and deliberate, “let’s talk about your company’s future… assuming you still want it to have one.” Damian swallowed hard, nodding. “Of course. My office is upstairs.” “Lead the way.” As they moved toward the elevators, the executives trailing behind them exchanged nervous glances. No one dared break the silence. Tasha, still kneeling on the marble floor, clutched her ID badge like it was a lifeline. No one helped her up. The receptionist desk stood abandoned, like an omen. Everyone in the lobby had seen it. Felt it. When Klaus Whitlock walked in, the rules changed. And when he left? Nothing would
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 53
But he didn’t move toward the desk. He moved to the liquor cabinet instead, poured himself a glass of scotch. Damian blinked. “Would you like—?” “I didn’t pour you one,” Klaus said. “You’ve made enough bad decisions today. No need to add alcohol.” He remembered, in vivid detail, how stupid he’d been—how blind. How love had made a fool of him. How Allison, in her silk lies and honeyed venom, had laughed off betrayal like it was a joke. It hardened him. Every memory carved out his empathy and replaced it with ice. Damian didn’t reply. He sank behind his desk, head bowed, like a king forced to kneel in his own throne room. Cassandra opened her bag, pulled out a sleek tablet, and tapped through the contract. She slid it across the desk. “Everything’s outlined. Don’t waste our time. We already have a meeting booked with your largest creditor—assuming you want us to stall them.” Damian read it. Each line a slow punch to the ribs. He signed. Klaus stepped forward, took t
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 54
Klaus appeared behind a ventilation unit on the same rooftop. Just meters away. Jack's instincts flared like a struck match. He moved fast, sliding into a sniper’s crawl, trying to reposition before the shot could be interrupted. His gloved fingers reached to steady the rifle barrel—but it was already too late. The world stretched. Time hiccupped as Klaus blurred through the air, his teleportation phasing him in and out of visible space. In a final blink, he appeared directly before the rifle’s muzzle, one hand already wrapped around the barrel like a snake claiming prey. With zero hesitation, Klaus wrenched the weapon upward, then drove a vicious foot into Jack’s masked face. Crack. The sniper's visor shattered. He flew back, skidding across the gravel-strewn rooftop with a grunt muffled by his mask. His rifle clattered beside him, useless. But Klaus didn’t wait. He advanced like a force of nature—steady, inevitable. “Hello, Jack,” he said, voice calm but laced with v
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 55
Klaus had transformed—into a massive, human-sized pangolin. Its armor gleamed under the pale moonlight, thick metallic plates layered like a living tank. His sharp, clawed limbs glistened. A long, segmented tail bristled with raw power. And above it all, two glowing purple eyes stared forward—fierce, inhuman, unmistakably Klaus. The predator had become the beast. In Jack's altered state, he continued to attack, allowing his thirst for blood to take over, as his fangs reformed in his mouth. Jack was oblivious to the beast he was becoming. His fury consumed him, leaving no room for concern about Klaus's transformation. He plunged his dagger down with greater force, aiming to pierce Klaus through the back, but once more, the blade clashed against armor. Clang! The thick pangolin scales absorbed the blow, causing the dagger to splinter under the impact. As Jack lunged forward to sink his teeth into Klaus's neck again, his venomous fangs shattered once more, and this time, his gu
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 56
She picked up almost immediately. “Sir?” Cassandra’s voice was tight, laced with worry. “Is it over? What happened? I heard—gunshots. It sounded like a—” “Come outside,” Klaus said coolly, already sliding into the seat. “We’re going to pick someone up.” A beat of silence. “Pick someone up…? You mean the threat? The assassin?” “I told you,” Klaus said as he started the engine, “everything’s fine.” The line went dead. Minutes later, Cassandra emerged from the side entrance of the building. Her heels tapped softly against the pavement, the click echoing in the dim alley. Her expression was tight, brows drawn in worry, eyes scanning the darkness. Then she saw him—calm behind the wheel, one hand resting lazily on the steering wheel, his face unreadable… but strangely serene. She approached cautiously. “You okay?” He nodded once. “Didn’t even get scratched.” Her eyes narrowed. “Wait. So the danger’s gone?” Klaus glanced at her, the corners of his mouth curling faintl
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 57
Felix barked a laugh, desperate. “You? You’ll move my SUV?” “Yes.” “I dare you, sewer rat.” Klaus smiled—cold, sharp. “Fine.” He walked calmly to the SUV, placed both hands on the hood, and began to push. To the horror of Felix—and the stunned silence of the crowd—the massive SUV began to roll aside with a groan of metal. Gasps broke out. The guards reacted instinctively, rushing forward—but their legs locked up mid-step. Eyes wide with panic, they realized they couldn’t move. Klaus had used aura manipulation—subtle, precise. Their limbs were paralyzed. They could speak, but nothing more. “Stop at once!” one of them barked, trying to mask his fear. “We’ll be forced to use viole—” “Then use it,” Klaus said coolly, not even looking back. He finished shifting the SUV entirely out of the way. Felix’s face was twisted in disbelief and terror. Trapped in his car, he screamed obscenities. “You’ll regret this! I’ll ruin you! I’ll—” “Shut up,” Klaus said, his voice like
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CHAPTER 74
Lucien snarled, his drink forgotten. “You think this is funny? I could sue you!” Klaus leaned in, the glint in his eyes colder than the ice in the man’s untouched whiskey. His voice was quiet. Dangerous. “And I could counter-sue you.” A brief pause. A beat of tension. Klaus added, almost lazily, “There are cameras watching everything. And let’s just say... Klaus Whitlock doesn’t take kindly to people who abuse their power.” Lucien froze. His mouth twitched. Color drained from his cheeks like water swirling down a drain. “You... who the hell are you?” Klaus straightened, indifferent. “Just a humble waiter,” he said. “With good ears.” --- 11:49 PM – Black Sapphire Lounge Klaus moved through the crowd, his tray steady, his movements smooth and measured. Then he froze mid-step. No system prompt this time. No mission alert. He didn’t need one. Bryce Fallon. Defense-tech mogul. Golden boy. Smug bastard. The same brute who once shoved Klaus’s face into a toilet and laughed wi
CHAPTER 73
“Thank you. Now get back to work and forget you saw me.” “Yes, sir!” The waiter scurried off. Klaus stepped into the small staff restroom, peeled off his soaked blazer, and began changing. The uniform fit snugly—not perfect, but close enough. He adjusted the black vest, rolled his sleeves, and glanced at himself in the mirror. Then, his eyes narrowed slightly. He activated Shape Shifter. Just a few subtle tweaks—less definition in his jawline, darker brows, a hint of a cleft chin, and a more narrow nose bridge. His eyes became a muted hazel instead of piercing blue. His hairstyle shifted just enough to be less distinct, the kind of face you’d glance over in a crowd and never recall later. [Shape Shifter active – Duration: 1 Hour] The result wasn’t a disguise—it was anonymity. No one would recognize him now, not unless they were really paying attention. Not even Anya or Isabella, if they weren’t looking closely. There was something surreal about it—Klaus Whitlock, heir
CHAPTER 72
“I’ve had far worse thrown at me,” Klaus replied. “A glass and a wine bottle? Child’s play.” Marco chuckled. “Fair, but you move like you have some combat training.” Silence, then They stood still for a moment, letting the tension simmer. Then both relaxed at the same time, nodding to each other with reluctant respect. “Guess we’re even,” Marco said. Klaus smirked. “For now.” Isabella returned, eyes wide. “Are you two done trying to kill each other?” “Bonding,” Marco corrected, rubbing his shoulder. “This is how men bond.” Anya rolled her eyes, but there was a note of amusement in her voice. “You two are insane.” “Maybe,” Klaus said, adjusting his sleeves. “But he’s got style.” Marco raised his glass again. “To not killing each other tonight.” Klaus clinked it. “I’ll drink to that.” ********** Isabella excused herself with a soft smile, murmuring something about needing the restroom. At the same time, Anya caught sight of another group of high-fashion friends
CHAPTER 71
“Old-fashioned,” Klaus murmured as the golden liquid shimmered in his glass. “Neat.” He didn’t flinch when her lips grazed his cheek—Isabella’s kiss was warm, casual, practiced. She gave him a fleeting smile, then turned and strutted past Marco without a word, her heels clicking like punctuation marks in the smoky hum of Velvet Fire. Marco’s eyes tracked her, jaw clenched. He reached for a toothpick, then stabbed it into the table with silent aggression. The wood splintered softly, almost inaudibly, but the gesture was louder than any curse. From across the dimly lit lounge, Jian caught Klaus’s eye. He raised a brow, then smirked. The air was thick with intent. Tension lingered like perfume on skin. Let the night burn, Klaus thought, his gaze fixed on Marco. The man didn’t look away. Instead, he smiled—unexpected, cryptic—and began to approach Klaus once more. Klaus shifted subtly, weight balanced. He expected a confrontation, maybe a threat, but Marco extended a hand instea
CHAPTER 70
“And I thought… what if I could take that kind of warmth, that chaos, that passion—and make it into something beautiful? Not just a place that serves drinks or plays music, but something that tells a story. Our story. Of travels, of connection, of rhythm.” She paused, her eyes scanning the crowd. “This place didn’t start with capital or luck. It started with heartbreak. It started with survival. And it led me here—with beauty, with soul, with people like you.” Another beat. This one tender, reverent. “So tonight,” she continued, raising her glass of champagne, “I toast to all of you. To the ones who made me laugh, the ones who I barely know, and the ones who helped me in my darkest days. Velvet Fire is yours now.” A wave of applause rolled through the room, followed by a cheer that roared like fire kissing gasoline. Anya laughed, brushing a tear from the corner of her eye. “And now, I’d like to introduce a few special souls I met along the way. People who stood out—not in
CHAPTER 69
Klaus chuckled softly, a confident grin playing on his lips as he looked at the two stunning women before him — Isabella, radiant in a crimson slit dress that hugged her curves like temptation incarnate, and Anya, elegant in a deep sapphire gown, her subtle beauty wrapped in mystery and poise. The tension between them was thick, like a silent storm about to crack the air with thunder. "It's fine," Klaus said smoothly, placing a hand on both their waists. "I’ll dance with Isabella first—she did ask me before you, Anya. But…" He leaned in slightly, voice dropping with playful mischief, “the next dance will be with you.” Then, as if struck by sudden inspiration, he added with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Or... we could dance together. All three of us. Imagine it—me at the center of every man's envy tonight." His words were light, teasing, but his gaze flicked meaningfully between them, daring one of them to object. The air grew still. Both women exchanged a glance so sharp
CHAPTER 68
“Hm?” she tilted her head, caught off guard. “A woman like you—driven, beautiful, magnetic—you must have a boyfriend, right? I mean, who wouldn’t want to date someone like you?” Anya blinked, startled. The words hung in the air like smoke curling from a fire, slow and dangerous. Her breath hitched slightly, a delicate betrayal of the cool confidence she wore like a second skin. Then, she laughed—light, a little nervous—and looked down for a heartbeat before raising her eyes again, locking onto Klaus’s with a glimmer of something she hadn’t felt in a long time. “Oh,” she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, her smile soft and disarming. “No, actually… I’m single. I’ve been so focused on building my career, chasing my dreams. Relationships always felt… secondary. And to be honest, I’ve never really met anyone who truly interested me.” But her heartbeat told a different story. It was drumming harder now, louder, as if her chest was announcing to the world that some
CHAPTER 67
Klaus blinked, momentarily taken aback. The transformation was stunning. Her delicate oval face radiated elegance, her bust danced dangerously along the edge of a daring neckline, and her hourglass figure swayed with confident ease. Heads turned. Conversations paused. Whispers followed her. Klaus watched her—not like a man devouring beauty with his eyes, but like an artist studying a masterpiece. His gaze lingered not in lust but in quiet admiration, appreciating the grace, power, and aura she carried. It was a rare kind of attention—pure, unclouded by base desire. And she felt it. She blushed. For the first time in a long time, Anya felt truly seen. Not as an object of desire, not as the wealthy club owner with a model’s body—but as her. And somehow, she knew: Klaus Whitlock wasn’t pretending. His admiration was real. And it meant more than all the other looks she'd ever gotten in her life. “Klaus,” she said, her voice softening, “how are you? What happened at the entrance?
CHAPTER 66
It was as if an invisible force had locked his leg in place. No matter how hard he pushed, his foot refused to descend. Panic gripped him. His muscles strained, his nerves screamed—but his body didn’t respond. “What the hell?” he muttered. Or tried to. Nothing came out. He couldn’t speak. Then, to his growing horror, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief—his own—and slowly bent down. Klaus watched him, one brow lifted. Derek’s hand trembled as he began wiping the very shoe he had intended to stomp. Gasps echoed around them. Phones were lifted. Videos were taken. The man who had branded Klaus a fraud now knelt before him, cleaning his shoes like a servant. Klaus leaned down slightly, smiling like a benevolent king watching a court jester embarrass himself. “Why, thank you, Derek,” Klaus said smoothly. “You must’ve been quite the servant before you entered showbiz. With this deed, I forgive you for being an arsehole.” He patted Derek’s shoulder t
