Novels by Svard

The double doors of the executive boardroom at the Venture Group headquarters swung open with a sharp, synchronized click. A young man, his hair styled with the gel-slicked precision of the Capital City elite, stumbled into the room. He was dressed in a suit that cost more than most people earned in five years, yet he looked like he had just narrowly escaped a localized hurricane. His face was a mottled map of fading bruises, and his eyes were wide with a lingering, visceral fear.This was Will Lee, the Heir Apparent of the Lee Family’s main branch and the son of Thomas Lee. He had arrived in River City with the intent of asserting dominance over his cousin Autumn Lee, but his first stop at the White Emperor Apothecary had turned into a catastrophic social and physical execution.As his eyes scanned the room, they landed on the man leaning casually against a side table. Will Lee’s breath hitched in his throat. His knees buckled, and for a terrifying second, he

The drama at the Shay estate had finally begun to recede like a dark tide, leaving behind a fragile, shimmering peace. As the group walked toward the iron-wrought gates of the peninsula mansion, the morning air felt cleaner, stripped of the heavy, toxic presence of the Spider Parasite. Autumn Lee, the woman the River City elite called the Ice Queen, reached up to brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Her famous "Peach-Blossom" eyes, which usually held the cold, calculating fire of a CEO, now radiated a rare, soul-deep relief.She turned to look at Cliff, who was walking beside her with a casual, unhurried gait. To anyone else, he looked like a common Convict, a man out of place in the "Industry Atmosphere" of high finance. But to her, he was the man who had just secured the future of the Venture Group.“Cliff, I... I honestly don't know how to thank you,” Autumn said, her voice dropping to a low, melodic resonance. “That $3 billion USD investment fro

The silence that followed the emergence of the dark, multi-legged entity was not merely a lack of sound; it was a physical, suffocating weight that seemed to drain the oxygen from the Shay family’s master suite. The rhythmic, electronic chirping of the heart monitor was the only heartbeat the room had left. Tuck Shay, the legendary titan of Angel Investment, lay propped against his silk pillows, his skin slowly regaining the natural hue of a living man, while his wife, Lana Wynn, clutched his hand as if he were a ghost that might dissipate at any moment.On the ornate Persian rug, the Queen Parasite lay pinned by a single, vibrating Silver Needle. It was a masterpiece of biological horror—a fist-sized entity covered in iridescent black fur, its many legs twitching in a rhythmic, dying spasm. To the local doctors, the self-proclaimed Masters of Western Medicine, it was an impossibility, a nightmare that defied every textbook in their libraries. But to Cliff, it was m

The heavy, ornate doors of the Shay master suite seemed to groan as they swung shut, sealing the room into a pressurized chamber of revelation and dread. The rhythmic, electronic chirping of the heart monitor was the only heartbeat the room had left. Tuck Shay, the titan of Angel Investment, lay propped against the silk pillows, his skin slowly regaining the hue of a living man, while his wife, Lana Wynn, clutched his hand as if he were a ghost that might dissipate at any moment.But the peace of the "miracle" was short-lived. Cliff stood at the foot of the bed, his shadow long and imposing against the dark wood paneling. His eyes, cold and sharp as the Silver Needles he had just used, were locked onto a single target: Shane Shay.“You… you are a delusional madman!” Shane Shay’s voice cracked, the high-pitched shriek of a cornered animal echoing off the vaulted ceiling. He scrambled backward, his polished leather shoes skidding on the Persian rug.

“What… what in the name of god is happening?!”Lana Wynn, the woman known throughout the State of Brooks as the formidable Mrs. Shay, felt her world tilt on its axis. The sight of her husband, the legendary titan of Angel Investment, spraying black, steaming blood onto twenty million USD in cash was a nightmare that even her worst enemies couldn't have scripted. She stood paralyzed at the foot of the bed, her face turning a ghostly, translucent shade of white as the high-decibel alarm of the flatlining cardiac monitor tore through the room like a physical blade.“Miracle Doctor! Boris Marsh! Do something!” she shrieked, her voice reaching a pitch of pure, unadulterated hysteria. Her hands clutched at the air as if trying to pull her husband back from the abyss. “You said he was recovering! You said the Thirteen Mystic Needles had worked! Why is he dying?!”The imposter, the man who had claimed to be the Successor of the Needl

The command did not merely interrupt the silence of the sickroom; it shattered it with the force of a Tactical Breaching.In the opulent master suite of the Shay estate—a room that resembled a high-tech wing of Summit Hospital more than a private residence—every head turned toward the doorway. A young man, dressed in a custom-tailored suit that screamed of Old Money and a lack of actual labor, marched into the room. He carried the unearned arrogance of a Spoiled Heir, his gaze sweeping over the gathered Masters of Western Medicine with a visible disdain.“Shane Shay? What on earth are you doing here?” Lana Wynn, better known to the high society of Eastriver as Mrs. Shay, asked in a voice tight with exhaustion and confusion. She stood by the foot of her husband’s bed, her fingers twisting a silk handkerchief.Shane Shay, the nephew of the dying titan, adjusted his cufflinks and looked at Cliff, his lip curling into a sneer. “Eldest A

After returning from the hospital, Lyra and I barely spoke about what happened at the exhibition.Perhaps she knew I didn't want to hear an explanation, and I knew she didn't know how to explain herself.The entire thing had already happened. No matter how many times we replayed that day in our minds, the result would remain the same.My arm was injured again, and the one thing I had been trying to protect—the studio and Mr. Morris's exhibition—had nearly become a burden because of me.For the next few days, Lyra stayed by my side.At first, I thought she was simply trying to make up for what she had done.That was the easiest explanation.<

I couldn't contain myself any longer. Pushing through the throng of onlookers, I approached the gentleman and extended my hand. "I'm the designer," I said, my voice a little shaky. "May I ask your name, sir?"He noticed my cast, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "You're the designer?"I nodded. "My daughter loves your work," he added, his tone softening.Only then did I see a young girl standing shyly beside him, a sweet smile playing on her lips.He again asked about commissioning a piece for her. I held up my arm, offering a rueful smile. "As you can see, I'm unable to take on any design work."Without waiting for a response, I briefly introduced myself to the surrounding crowd, announcing my temporary departure from the art world.Confusion rippled through the onlookers. Questions about my injury filled the air.I couldn't explain the full situation—Luka and Lyra were off-limits for now.Mr. Morris and Mateo, realizing what was ha

I slept little the previous night and was up early packing. I didn't particularly want to go to Oceania, but the exhibition tour's first stop was there, so I decided to go and see it through.By the time Lyra awoke, I'd already packed. She didn't delay, whisking me off to the airport.On the plane, she fussed over me, anticipating my every need, a stark contrast to her usual self.It was all too late, though. My former self would have been ecstatic, but now, I felt nothing.The flight was mercifully short, and Lyra drove me to the hotel in her luxurious car. She possessed an extraordinary presence, a captivating aura that commanded attention wherever she went.The young man at the hotel reception was clearly smitten. When Lyra booked the most opulent presidential suite, her allure only intensified.However, when Lyra presented two passports, the receptionist finally glanced at me. I offered a small, polite smile.He processed our check-in with asto

Slap!The sound echoed through the hallway. Aunt Foster had clearly struck Lyra hard."Lyra, do you know what you're saying?" Aunt Foster's voice was a furious roar. "You dare talk to me like that because of that man?"Aunt Foster's anger stems from the same reason as Lyra's. They both couldn't bear the loss of their grip on a situation they'd always dominated.Lyra, unfazed by the blow, met her gaze with unwavering defiance. "Isn't this how I should talk to you? After all, I was once a naive girl, and it was your influence that shaped me into who I am today. Everything I am, you taught me."Hearing Lyra's movement, I didn't have time to return to my room and instead ducked into a nearby one. From my hiding place, I heard Aunt Foster's hysterical tirade punctuated by Lyra's chilling silence.Only then did I realize I was in the storage room, surrounded by my design tools. The sight of them, coupled with my own physical limitations, felt like a fresh wou

"Did you really think I had feelings for you?" Lyra's voice was sharp and cruel. "I've always loved Isaac. You were nothing more than a pawn, a tool to test my place in his heart. Don't flatter yourself."Luka completely lost it. His face contorted, his actions erratic and uncontrolled like a man driven mad.Lyra, clearly wanting to end the spectacle, quickly called Arlo to escort Luka away.Exhausted by the entire scene, I retreated upstairs, leaving Lyra to deal with the fallout. She didn't follow.Understandably so. She'd dealt Luka a brutal blow and likely needed time to smooth things over.After a while, Lyra appeared, throwing herself into my arms. "Don't be angry, Isaac. I've sent him abroad with Arlo. He won't bother us again."From the start, my animosity toward Luka hadn't been intense. In fact, I felt a pang of pity for him.Perhaps he'd simply made disastrous choices in his youth, leading him down a path of no return, where people disca

Lyra's voice drifted from the hallway. "Isaac, what are you doing in there? Mind if I come in?"Before I could answer, she'd already pushed open the door and stepped inside.I frantically shoved the small box I was holding behind my back, but it was too late. She'd seen it.Her eyes lingered on the object for a moment, then a slow smile curved her lips. "Don't bother hiding them," she said. "Those are exquisite jewelry boxes. They're far too beautiful for the exhibition. They're for me, aren't they?"She moved closer, her hand reaching out to take the boxes. She held them up, turning them over in her hands, a knowing glint in her eyes. "And what treasures do they hold?"They were for her, but the last thing I wanted was to give them to her right then.A chuckle escaped her lips. "Ah, so that's why you rushed back. You were afraid I'd discover your little surprise in the study and continue to...pester you, weren't you?" Her voice held a playful edge.