Novels by Gem

The night was thick with fog, curling through the narrow streets like a living thing, breathing and slithering around forgotten corners. Neon signs buzzed overhead, flickering in and out like dying stars struggling for one last gasp of light. The air was damp and tinged with the scent of rust, old oil, and something metallic—like blood, faint and teasing.Wilson stood beneath a flickering streetlamp on the corner of an alley, arms crossed, foot tapping against the wet pavement in an erratic rhythm. He looked calm, but his pulse was sprinting. He hadn’t seen Davion in months—not since the warehouse incident—and back then, the kid had walked away with someone else’s blood drying on his hands and a look in his eyes that didn’t belong to a teenager.Now, after what happened with Mad Tiger, Wilson wasn’t sure what to expect.A sharp scrape echoed behind him.He turned fast and from the shadows emerged Davion, moving like smoke—silent, effortless. His hoodie was up, his coat pulled tight, a

The Thornton residence was unusually lively. Sunlight poured through the tall windows of the estate's sitting room, throwing golden streaks across polished mahogany floors. Crystal glasses clinked softly against a tray of champagne flutes, and the scent of fresh croissants mingled with the sharper tang of espresso from the butler's cart.In the center of the room, Trevor Thornton held court like a smug prince in a kingdom of admirers. Dressed in a fitted navy suit with a crimson silk pocket square, he leaned against the fireplace mantle, one hand lazily swirling a drink, the other animated as he launched into the third retelling of his version of the Mad Tiger capture."So there we were," Trevor began, voice loud enough to turn every head, "military lines spread thin, command floundering, chaos ready to explode. And I said to my contacts—high-ranking officials, mind you—‘Gentlemen, let me make a few calls. My father and I can handle this, then suddenly I kicked the door of the mad Tig

News spreads like wildfire: Mad Tiger has been captured.It breaks the internet within hours. Local headlines scream about a daring military operation, about precision and strategy, about Major Irene Lockhart leading the charge like a seasoned war hero. She's called a legend. A symbol of power. A woman who doesn't take prisoners.And Irene? She doesn’t say a word.She doesn’t correct them.She lets the world believe she brought down Mad Tiger.But it eats at her. Every second. Every whisper of praise is another needle under her skin.Because she knows it wasn’t her.She hadn’t even stepped inside that godforsaken house before it was all over.The forums explode first."A-class menace finally subdued!""Military strikes again—justice served!""Mad Tiger neutralized. Thank God."And then, the conspiracy theorists crawl out from under their digital rocks.A few grainy screenshots begin making rounds—still frames taken from neighborhood security cams. One in particular sparks interest: a

Everything was a blur when Irene stormed back into HQ. The briefing room was buzzing with chatter, soldiers moving in and out, reports flying left and right. But Irene? She stood still in the middle of it all, eyes locked on a single piece of paper clutched in her fist.That damn note.“Next time, don’t let a civilian clean up your mess. – D.”The words were burned into her brain. Who the hell left this? How did this person get in? More importantly, how did he get out without a trace? How did he get out without being seen?Mad Tiger had been one of the city’s most terrifying A-class criminals, it had been the military mission to bring him down and they had failed several times.Now how can a criminal with that kind of reputation be tied up like a birthday gift with a neat bow, unconscious and bruised. Her team had been stuck outside for four freaking hours, and this guy handled it like it was a walk in the park.And then had the audacity to mock her.How dare he!Irene paced the room

The night air was thick with tension as Davion moved like a ghost through the shadows of Mad Tiger's hideout. The entire building was eerily silent, despite the army camped right outside. He could feel the chaos boiling just beneath the surface, but for now, everything was still. Too still.Davion crouched low, eyes sharp as blades, as he slipped past the first layer of security. The guards posted around the perimeter weren’t amateurs. They were heavily armed, trained, and alert. But they weren’t ready for someone like him.He darted behind a broken pillar and paused. A guard walked by, humming some annoying tune under his breath. Before the guy could even realize something was off, Davion was behind him, wrapping an arm around his neck and silently choking him out. He laid the unconscious guard gently on the ground and whispered, “Sleep tight, buddy.”Inside the hideout, the stench of blood and sweat filled the air. Davion’s boots crunched over shattered glass and broken furniture. T

Davion arrived at the location Wilson had sent him, his sharp eyes scanning the area. The air was thick with tension, and the scene before him was not what he had expected.Instead of Mad Tiger’s men lurking in the shadows, the entire place was surrounded by military forces. Dozens of heavily armed soldiers stood at attention, their rifles aimed at the massive compound in front of them.At the center of it all stood Irene.Davion sighed. Great. Just what I needed.Irene, dressed in her military uniform, radiated authority, but her face was twisted in frustration. Her subordinates looked uneasy, their expressions filled with both exhaustion and fear.One soldier hesitated before stepping forward. “Commander, we’ve been attacking for four hours now, but… there’s been no progress at all.”Irene’s fists clenched at her sides. “Four hours? You’re telling me that after four hours of fighting, you still haven’t broken in? Are you all completely useless?!”The soldier swallowed hard and looke