2025-04-18 02:29:28
Previous Chapter
Related Chapters
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock 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
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock 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
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock 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
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 75
Klaus facepalmed in weary frustration. Because of course—of all the nights, all the places in this sprawling city—fate had to drag her back here. There, standing across from him like fragile porcelain caught in a hurricane, was Allison Thorne. Her red heels froze mid-stride. Her face lost all color, lips parting in disbelief. A clutch purse slipped from her trembling fingers, bursting open across the pavement. Lipstick, compact, coins—spilled like the guts of a confession. Her green eyes—once filled with warmth, now hollowed by regret—latched onto him like she was watching a ghost crawl out of its grave. Beside her stood Duncan Hunt—traitor, coward, Judas in designer sneakers. Stress hadn’t been kind to him, or maybe guilt had done the work. The once-boyish charm had dulled. His eyes were sunken, lined by sleepless nights and poor choices. He clutched a blazer over one shoulder like it could shield him from the storm barreling his way. “Klaus?” Duncan squinted. “Why are you
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 76
“It wasn’t supposed to go this far…” He stepped into her space, voice low, unforgiving. “You tried to erase me.” “I know,” she whispered. “But you’re here. You survived. Doesn’t that mean something? Maybe it’s… fate?” He barked a short, cold laugh. “Fate doesn’t forgive murderers.” Duncan yanked her back by the arm. “Allison, enough. You’re embarrassing yourself.” “I don’t care!” she cried, eyes frantic. “He survived. He’s better! What happened was a mistake. It was—” “Funny,” Klaus said, “how love turns to worship the moment power enters the room.” He opened the door of the Rubicon. Allison collapsed again, kneeling like a penitent. “Please, Klaus. Just don’t hate me. We can fix this. I’m not asking for much. Just… don’t hate me.” He looked down at her, and for a heartbeat, silence wrapped around them like a shroud. “I don’t hate you, Allison,” he said softly. “You’re not worth that.” He stepped into the car, door closing with a deliberate click. Across th
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 77
“They’re gone,” she said softly. “I—I had them earlier, I swear—” “Erm… we must’ve misplaced them,” Duncan said, flashing a nervous grin. “Come on, brother. It’s just two of us, yeah? Let’s not make this a big deal.” He discreetly extended a folded hundred-dollar bill. The bouncer, Andy, didn’t move. “No ticket. No entry.” Duncan’s smile cracked. “C’mon, man—just this once—” Andy took a half step forward. “And don’t insult me with that. I said no ticket, no entry. Now move.” Allison’s pride snapped like a brittle bone. “Do you have any idea who I am?” she snapped, voice shrill. Andy didn’t flinch. “Someone standing outside without a ticket.” Her jaw clenched, nostrils flared. She spun around in a storm of perfume and humiliation, heels clicking like gunshots on the concrete. Duncan followed, confused and fuming. “What the hell is going on?” he asked as she threw her clutch onto the hood of the parked Toyota and began tearing through it. “I had them,” she whispere
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 78
His skin bore ancient runes that pulsed and split like overstrained circuits. His eyes—madness and genius, time and contradiction—glowed with the weight of forbidden knowledge.Eris.The Trickster.The god of Paradox.Above him, the heavens split.Seven celestial figures descended, veiled in gold and law, their forms wrapped in burning authority. They hovered—unblinking, unyielding—each one a pillar of divine order. Their voices cracked the sky."You gave power to the undeserving!""You’ve corrupted the Sacred Design!"Eris didn’t flinch. His smile was slow. Dangerous."You call it corruption," he said. "I call it remixing the rules."Then—a spear of judgment. Blinding light.It impaled him.His scream was silent. Divine blood spilled, glowing like spilled galaxies. Flowers bloomed upside down where it touched stone—reality mocking itself.“Mortals don’t rise by playing fair,” he whispered. “They change the game.”With fading strength, he raised his hands. Light and logic spiraled fro
The Indomitable Klaus Whitlock CHAPTER 1
The fluorescent lights of Kennedy International Airport hummed, casting a sterile glow on Klaus Whitlock as he waited by the baggage carousel. His fingers curled and uncurled at his sides. The air smelled of jet fuel and cheap coffee, the sounds of hurried conversations and rolling suitcases filling the terminal. Five years. Five long, agonizing years separated him from Allison, from his life. He pictured her face—the way her eyes crinkled when she laughed, the warmth of her hand in his. He had played this moment in his head a thousand times. Would she be waiting for him? Would she run into his arms, tell him she never stopped believing in him? He had held onto that hope like a lifeline, the one thing that had kept him sane behind those prison walls. A voice shattered his thoughts. “Klaus Whitlock?” Two uniformed officers stood before him, their expressions grim. Before he could react, they were leading him away, through the maze of corridors. The faces of returning travelers bl
Latest Chapter
CHAPTER 78
His skin bore ancient runes that pulsed and split like overstrained circuits. His eyes—madness and genius, time and contradiction—glowed with the weight of forbidden knowledge.Eris.The Trickster.The god of Paradox.Above him, the heavens split.Seven celestial figures descended, veiled in gold and law, their forms wrapped in burning authority. They hovered—unblinking, unyielding—each one a pillar of divine order. Their voices cracked the sky."You gave power to the undeserving!""You’ve corrupted the Sacred Design!"Eris didn’t flinch. His smile was slow. Dangerous."You call it corruption," he said. "I call it remixing the rules."Then—a spear of judgment. Blinding light.It impaled him.His scream was silent. Divine blood spilled, glowing like spilled galaxies. Flowers bloomed upside down where it touched stone—reality mocking itself.“Mortals don’t rise by playing fair,” he whispered. “They change the game.”With fading strength, he raised his hands. Light and logic spiraled fro
CHAPTER 77
“They’re gone,” she said softly. “I—I had them earlier, I swear—” “Erm… we must’ve misplaced them,” Duncan said, flashing a nervous grin. “Come on, brother. It’s just two of us, yeah? Let’s not make this a big deal.” He discreetly extended a folded hundred-dollar bill. The bouncer, Andy, didn’t move. “No ticket. No entry.” Duncan’s smile cracked. “C’mon, man—just this once—” Andy took a half step forward. “And don’t insult me with that. I said no ticket, no entry. Now move.” Allison’s pride snapped like a brittle bone. “Do you have any idea who I am?” she snapped, voice shrill. Andy didn’t flinch. “Someone standing outside without a ticket.” Her jaw clenched, nostrils flared. She spun around in a storm of perfume and humiliation, heels clicking like gunshots on the concrete. Duncan followed, confused and fuming. “What the hell is going on?” he asked as she threw her clutch onto the hood of the parked Toyota and began tearing through it. “I had them,” she whispere
CHAPTER 76
“It wasn’t supposed to go this far…” He stepped into her space, voice low, unforgiving. “You tried to erase me.” “I know,” she whispered. “But you’re here. You survived. Doesn’t that mean something? Maybe it’s… fate?” He barked a short, cold laugh. “Fate doesn’t forgive murderers.” Duncan yanked her back by the arm. “Allison, enough. You’re embarrassing yourself.” “I don’t care!” she cried, eyes frantic. “He survived. He’s better! What happened was a mistake. It was—” “Funny,” Klaus said, “how love turns to worship the moment power enters the room.” He opened the door of the Rubicon. Allison collapsed again, kneeling like a penitent. “Please, Klaus. Just don’t hate me. We can fix this. I’m not asking for much. Just… don’t hate me.” He looked down at her, and for a heartbeat, silence wrapped around them like a shroud. “I don’t hate you, Allison,” he said softly. “You’re not worth that.” He stepped into the car, door closing with a deliberate click. Across th
CHAPTER 75
Klaus facepalmed in weary frustration. Because of course—of all the nights, all the places in this sprawling city—fate had to drag her back here. There, standing across from him like fragile porcelain caught in a hurricane, was Allison Thorne. Her red heels froze mid-stride. Her face lost all color, lips parting in disbelief. A clutch purse slipped from her trembling fingers, bursting open across the pavement. Lipstick, compact, coins—spilled like the guts of a confession. Her green eyes—once filled with warmth, now hollowed by regret—latched onto him like she was watching a ghost crawl out of its grave. Beside her stood Duncan Hunt—traitor, coward, Judas in designer sneakers. Stress hadn’t been kind to him, or maybe guilt had done the work. The once-boyish charm had dulled. His eyes were sunken, lined by sleepless nights and poor choices. He clutched a blazer over one shoulder like it could shield him from the storm barreling his way. “Klaus?” Duncan squinted. “Why are you
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
