Novels by Aster_Pheonix

The fight erupted. Mason attacked with reckless fury, slashing and lunging with the blade, each movement a desperate attempt to escape, to hurt, to reclaim what he believed was stolen. Chris sidestepped fluidly, moving like water over stone, countering with a spinning kick that sent Mason staggering back, momentarily unbalanced. The two men collided in a deadly dance of fists, elbows, and knees, every blow a symphony of violence honed by years of brutal training. Each strike carried more than physical force; it was rage, obsession, betrayal, and love entwined, the culmination of a history of ambition, rivalry, and heartbreak. “You destroyed me!” Mason roared mid-strike, slashing at Chris with the dagger, each swing more frantic than the last. “You took everything I deserved!” Chris dodged the attack, letting the blade slice past his shoulder by inches, his muscles coiling like steel cables. He drove a knee into Mason’s ribs with surgical precision. “And you destroyed yourself!”

Chris’s jaw clenched until his teeth ached. His shoulder throbbed violently, each heartbeat sending a hot spike of pain down his arm. Flesh, bone, and muscle screamed for him to stop. But no agony could override the fire burning inside his chest. Mason wasn’t escaping. Not while Chris still drew breath. He moved upward, one step at a time, methodically scanning the environment the way only a seasoned operative could. His gaze tracked every scrap of debris scattered along the stairwell. Twisted railings. Loose bolts. Shattered grates. Even shattered glass that crunching under his boots. All potential traps. All weapons that Mason could exploit. The air tasted metallic—like the inside of a dying machine. Halfway up, a hulking silhouette lunged out from behind a flight of stairs. A mercenary. The last one Mason had left behind to stall him. The brute swung a metal pipe with enough force to dent the wall. The air screamed as the weapon cut through it. Chris reacted on instinct—droppin

The warehouse had fallen into a chaotic, almost oppressive silence, punctuated only by the distant groans of wounded mercenaries and the soft, ominous hiss of dust settling over shattered crates and broken machinery. Smoke clung to the air like a living thing, curling in thin, gray tendrils around overturned metal shelves and debris-strewn floors. The stench of gunpowder and scorched concrete hung thickly, filling Chris’s lungs with every ragged inhale. His chest heaved violently as he leaned against a fractured steel beam, the cold, jagged metal biting into his bruised shoulder. Pain radiated sharply through his ribs with every breath, a scorching reminder of the savage blows he had endured. Blood seeped through his torn shirt, the dark stain spreading with a life of its own, yet he barely noticed. Amidst the agony, amidst the storm of physical torment, one thought anchored him: Eva. She was pressed against the concrete floor a few meters away, trembling as though the very air its

Mason looked at eva direction with a look that showed no signs of remorse.“You want me to stop when I'm just beginning to catch some fun. You should enjoy the show too.” Again, the rod began its deadly arc downward. Mason’s shadow loomed larger. His manic grin widened even further.The rod arced down, a metallic predator intent on ending Chris in an instant. Pain had already lanced through his shoulder and back, but he remained rigid, Eva’s eyes locked on his. She gasped, terrified, trembling, yet her gaze carried trust—a fragile lifeline in the maelstrom of chaos. And then— Then—a sharp, deafening crack split the air. The pipe flew out of mason’s hands and in the next split second one of Mason’s lackeys guarding Eva crumpled to the floor, a dark spray blossoming across the concrete. “Sniper,” one of the soldiers yelled. Chris’s head snapped toward the direction the bullet came from and allowed himself a brief moment of gratitude, a spark of hope flaring in the storm of adre

Chris groaned in pain from the kick but didn't have enough time to recover as Mason swung the pipe towards him. Quickly , he jumped backwards to evade the attack. Mason glared at Chris in anger. “ What are you doing? Did you forget what situation you are in right now? Chris’s pulse hammered. “Chris…” Mason whispered, tone dropping into cold, predatory calm. “Killing you would be easy. Too easy. But breaking you?” His smile stretched, sick and eager. “That’s more interesting so just stay put and get beaten up ” And without warning— Mason struck again The rod came down with lethal force, the air splitting with its speed and this time Chris stood still without making an attempt to evade. The metallic rod collided with Chris’s shoulder with a sickening, bone-shattering crunch that echoed through the hollow construction tower. Pain lanced through his arm, sharp, hot, consuming every nerve ending, but he didn’t cry out. Not a single sound. Not a whimper. He staggered, then fell t

The skeletal frame of the construction tower jutted into the night like the exposed ribs of some fallen titan. Rusted beams crisscrossed overhead, serrated edges catching the moonlight like jagged teeth ready to swallow anyone who dared step inside. Shattered windows gaped open across the tower’s facade, black and hollow like the eye sockets of a long-dead corpse. Even before Chris entered, the building breathed dread. The faint, rhythmic drip of water echoed through the hollow interior—slow, deliberate, almost like the tower itself was counting down. The air was thick with rust, mildew, damp concrete, and the metallic stench of old machinery. It felt like walking into the rotting heart of a nightmare. Chris moved cautiously through the debris-strewn floor, boots crunching over broken glass and twisted metal. Every step was calculated. Every muscle ready to spring. His training sharpened his senses, widening them like the aperture of a camera. He scanned the shadows for pressure pla

Robert's facial expression turned sour as he was utterly displeased that Sarah was able to see right through his facade without much difficulty. She had always been sharp witted but he expected that her sense of reasoning would be clouded by the excitement of being given a chance to return back to t

At this moment, Robert was only concerned about forming a successful collaboration with Ace Enterprise more than paying attention to his kinship.“Thank you, Father. I'm glad you finally understood what I was talking about earlier. As you can see, there's no need for us elites to mingle with the low

Theodore hurriedly used the clues he had gathered and was able to realize that everything happening right now was Thomas’s idea. It occurred to him that Thomas must have made some sort of deal with Robert to allow Sarah to become an Anderson again in exchange for her helping the family establish a c

Meanwhile, Ryan was utterly disgusted by Sarah's remark and concluded that he was being arrogant considering her lowly status. As a result he was unable to refrain himself from lashing at her in a stern voice despite Robert's warnings. “You are just an ungrateful bitch, Sarah. This family has rules

“I don't know how you were able to pull it off but one thing is surely clear and that's the fact Miss. Evans must be really treating you well if you are able to afford such a lovely dress and luxury car.” Thomas commented in a flattering tone as he made the assumption that Sarah could only afford to

The party progressed without any more significant ruckus after Robert had stated his verdict. Everyone could only hold onto their thoughts and respective dissatisfaction about Sarah and William’s presence since nobody wanted to take any chances of offending Robert. They could grumble and glare at S