Novels by BigClaw

Under normal circumstances, Hunter Thornton would never have come to the construction site in person. He had people for that, layers of intermediaries who handled the family's less dignified business. But last night, the Marshal's Office had gotten involved, and that changed everything. Combined with the message Bryce had sent before disappearing, the directive was clear: apologize to the people at Vale Group. Hunter weighed his options and made the only rational choice.He arrived at the site with a small entourage, his expression carefully neutral, his posture one of deliberate humility.Serena Vale stared at him, and the site supervisor beside her wore the same look of bewildered confusion. An apology was the last thing either of them had expected this morning."Mr. Thornton," the supervisor said slowly, "why would you apologize to us? Our site wasn't shut down by your people."Hunter dipped into a second bow, deeper than the first, holding it long enough for

Bryce shook his head so fast it might have snapped loose from his neck. "No, no. I'll have the money wired to Vale Group's account immediately."His fingers scrambled for his phone, the screen light harsh against his ashen face. He punched in the number for his company's finance department and pressed the device to his ear, every shred of his usual arrogance gone."Transfer one hundred million from the corporate account to Vale Group right now. First thing tomorrow morning, take a team over there personally to apologize on our behalf."Silence stretched a beat too long before the accountant spoke, confusion bleeding through the line. "Sir, that capital is earmarked for our current project. The investment deadline is the day after tomorrow. If you pull it now, construction progress could stall indefinitely.""Did I stutter?" Bryce's voice cracked like a whip. "I don't care about progress or deadlines. Wire that money this instant, or you can clear out your desk by

"I saw marshals from the Marshal's Office heading to the Vale Group construction site too."The henchman's words tumbled out breathlessly, his face slick with sweat as though he'd sprinted the entire way back.Bryce went still and set down his teacup with a soft click. "The Marshal's Office?" he repeated, his voice dropping half a register.He knew what the marshals represented. They weren't ordinary law enforcement. The Marshal's Office functioned as Haven City's armed authority, tasked with maintaining order among the upper echelons and safeguarding the city's stability. They didn't concern themselves with petty disputes or neighborhood squabbles. A construction site full of disgruntled workers hardly seemed like the kind of incident that would draw their attention."That's right," the henchman continued, wiping his forehead. "I staked out the perimeter for a long time. The marshals went in, and within minutes they came back out with Roscoe Blackwood and his cr

The Marshal's Compound sat quiet under the afternoon sun, its stone walls holding the kind of silence that made men nervous. Aaron Holmes walked through the main corridor without haste, his footsteps measured and deliberate. Behind him, Coldwraith moved like a shadow.By the time Aaron arrived, Roscoe Blackwood and his entire crew had already been separated into individual cells."Lord Holmes, we've followed your instructions to the letter," the Chief Marshal said, falling into step beside him. "Every one of them has been isolated."Aaron's gaze sharpened. "Have any of them talked?"The Chief Marshal's expression tightened with frustration. "Not a word of substance. They keep insisting they're ordinary villagers and won't say anything beyond that.""Take me to him."Aaron had expected as much. These men were clearly acting on someone else's orders, coached on exactly what to say and what not to say, stubbornness born not from courage but from fear of wh

"Thirty seconds left!"Aaron Holmes stood motionless at the edge of the construction site, hands loose at his sides, as though the commotion swirling around him belonged to a different world entirely. The murmurs of the crowd, the nervous shuffling of Serena Vale's business partners, the theatrical countdown from Roscoe Blackwood and his thugs, none of it registered on his face. He simply waited, breathing slow and even, gaze fixed on nothing in particular."This guy's lost his mind," one of Roscoe's men muttered. "Absolutely unhinged."Roscoe studied Aaron with a look caught between amusement and irritation. He'd come tonight to make a statement, to remind everyone who held real power in these parts. The spotlight was supposed to be on him, yet this nobody was stealing the moment without lifting a finger."Ten seconds!"Aaron ignored it. In his mind, he was counting down his own clock. One minute was all he'd needed.Roscoe's patience snapped. "That's

The office door swung open without a knock, and Serena glanced up from the spread of documents covering her desk. The moment she registered who had walked in, something in her expression softened."Aaron, what are you doing here?"A thread of genuine warmth colored her voice, enough to surprise even herself. These past weeks had buried her so completely in work that she'd barely exchanged more than a handful of texts with him. She hadn't even spared much thought for the Tyler family's bankruptcy, letting it pass like distant news while she poured every waking hour into the company's operations. And now those operations were threatening to collapse around her."Had some free time, figured I'd stop by." Aaron settled into the chair across from her, unhurried, watching her face with quiet attention. "Looks like something's wrong."Serena pressed her fingertips against her temples and exhaled slowly. The exhaustion was beginning to show in the faint shadows beneath h