Novels by Maria Goreti

"I'm not going to coax them with sweet words. That threat will force their eyes open," Alex said, cutting off Sammy's doubts.The sun had barely risen when Sammy rushed over to Alex, who was sitting casually. "Lex, your prediction was way off!" Sammy exclaimed."They're still on strike?" Alex asked, setting his coffee cup on the table."They're refusing to open their stalls, sure, but that's not the problem! Look across the street!"Alex got up and walked to the gate. His eyes immediately locked onto the massive three-story building across the highway. Empire Fresh Market had hung a giant red banner stretching from the roof to the ground floor, covering nearly every glass panel of the building."Lex, it's not just a normal discount! They're selling premium rice for the price of subsidized rations. Quality beef is going for way below market value. Sugar, cooking oil, vegetables—everything is being slashed to rock bottom!""No wonder the housewives aren't even glancing at our market thi

Alex responded with a simple shake of his head. Leaving it to the police meant letting the file collect dust on a desk, whereas an enemy like Mr. Victor Sterling demanded a strike aimed squarely at his core.“The cops will be too slow, and Victor’s got too many people on his payroll.” Alex didn't shift his gaze.“So, what, you're going full vigilante?” Laura scoffed.“I'll handle this information my own way.”“Suit yourself. Just don't drag me into it when your head ends up on a spike.”“Relax. All I need you to do is drop me back off at the market.”“You really don't have a single drop of fear, do you? Victor’s probably sent every last one of his men out hunting for your head by now,” Laura grumbled, keeping her foot heavy on the gas pedal.“I'm giving them time to look for me. The more they panic, the more mistakes they'll make without even realizing it.” Alex sounded completely unfazed.“Better hope you've got nine lives, laborer,” she taunted.The black sedan tore through the late

The mastermind behind this chaos was Mr. Victor Sterling, a real estate tycoon who had ruthlessly controlled half of the underworld for years. Yet, instead of trembling at his rival's formidable reputation, Alex merely smirked in disdain.“Mr. Victor Sterling?” Alex muttered softly, as if that grand name were nothing more than a cheap joke to his ears. “So he really was the one pulling the strings behind the scenes all along.”“Mr. Alex, do you want us to track down his location and strike now?” The elite commander stood tall amidst the painful groans of dozens of thugs scattered across the muddy ground.“There's no need to waste our energy. Let the old rat sit comfortably on his throne for a bit longer. Your duty at this market is done. Pull your men back to base.”“Orders received. We stand ready for your next call.”The commander gave a salute and immediately ordered his men back into their line of black cars.As the roar of the engines gradually faded into the distance, a familiar

"I'm certainly not going to waste my energy dealing with a loan shark like you," Alex answered calmly, taking a step back into the shadow of a dilapidated wooden stall. His eyes were cold and completely devoid of panic. "Because in this world, money can always hire hands that are far more lethal."Damon spat forcefully onto the damp cobblestones, his bloodshot eyes widening as his face flushed with suppressed rage. "Cut the crap! Beat him to death! Don't leave a single stall standing today! Destroy everything he cares about!"Panic-stricken, Sammy immediately grabbed Alex's arm upon seeing over a dozen thugs wielding rusty iron pipes, heavy baseball bats, and cleavers. Sammy's fingers trembled against Alex's jacket. "Lex, we have to run right now!" Sammy said, frantically eyeing the narrow back alleys. "We can't win against them with our bare hands! They'll tear us apart!""Sam, stay right there! Don't move!" Alex's voice was firm—an unshakeable command that froze Sammy in his tracks.

The threat of exposing tax evasion evidence shattered Mr. Brandon's pride, forcing him down on all fours to pick up the gold pen. The stout man signed the deed, surrendering the ownership of Greenwood Market to Alex.An hour later, Alex's taxi pulled up right in front of the Greenwood Market gates. The atmosphere was tense and chaotic. Dozens of vendors stood shoulder-to-shoulder, wielding sharpened bamboo stakes and wooden planks to block the entrance.“Lex, thank goodness you're back!” Sammy ran toward Alex, breathless and visibly pale.“Sam, what happened? Where's the heavy machinery?” Elang asked, stepping quickly through the crowd.“The heavy machinery hasn't arrived yet, but Damon and a dozen of his men are still rampaging at the vegetable market up front. They’re beating up anyone who refuses to clear out their goods.”“Sam, tell the vendors to fall back. Let me handle them.”“Are you crazy? They're armed, Lex!”“Sam, just fall back. I don't want anyone else getting hurt.”Alex

That crazy move wasn't a complicated demand. Instead, it was a harsh slap in the face—a massive eleven-digit figure shining brightly from the tablet screen directly onto the former tyrant's face. Mr. Brandon’s arrogance instantly vanished the moment his greedy eyes realized that the poor laborer standing before him held the life and future of his company in his hands.“Th-that’s impossible.” Mr. Brandon turned pale. “Twenty billion? Impossible! There must be an error on this cheap tablet!”“Mr. Brandon, there is nothing wrong with our system,” Mr. Henderson said firmly. “Mr. Alex’s balance is one hundred percent real and guaranteed legitimate by headquarters.”Alex pulled the tablet back, his index finger tapping the screen a few times. “Is the account number for paying off the non-performing loan still the same as in the original document, Mr. Henderson?”“Yes, Mr. Alex. It goes directly into our bank’s account.”Mr. Brandon swallowed hard, his eyes bulging. “Wait a minute! What are