The Broker noticed her as soon as she entered, his eyes narrowing slightly.The widow, Louis’s closest ally. He couldn’t help but enjoy the irony. She was walking right into his grasp.He approached her with his signature smug smile, ready to bask in his triumph.He stretched out a hand, a gesture of cold politeness.“My condolences, Madame Kindsor. It seems the city is finally free from that meddling fool. Please, join me.”Pearl raised her eyes, her gaze colder than ice.She did not take his hand. Instead, she tilted her head slightly, her voice soft but dripping with venom.“Louis may be gone, but I’ll make sure you never forget the price of your victory.”The Broker’s smile faltered for just a second before he recovered.“I don’t need a reminder, Madame. I’ve already won.”Pearl stood taller, her posture straightening.“You may have won the battle, but your victory will be your downfall. Louis fought for a future where power isn’t held by the likes of you. And no matter how many e

The silence that followed Louis’s entrance was suffocating. The Broker stood frozen, his fingers gripping his whiskey glass just a little too tightly. He had spent months orchestrating Louis’s fall, celebrating his demise.And yet—here he was.Breathing. Smirking. Looking like he’d just crawled out of hell and was ready to drag everyone down with him.Louis glanced around, watching the terrified glances between The Broker’s men. Some were gripping their weapons, but none dared to move first. He could see it in their eyes.Doubt.The same men who had sworn loyalty to The Broker were now hesitating.Because legends don’t die.And Louis? He was already something more than a man in their eyes.The Broker noticed it too. His jaw clenched. He needed to reestablish dominance—fast.He slammed his glass down and barked, “What the hell are you all waiting for? Take him down!”The guards flinched but didn’t move.Louis laughed—a deep, amused chuckle that sent a fresh wave of unease through the r

The Broker’s fingers tightened around the syringe as the serum pulsed within the vial—a liquid glowing with unnatural energy, its eerie blue hue reflecting in his cold, calculating eyes.Years of research. Years of control. And now, nothing but desperation.His empire was crumbling at his feet, his influence slipping like sand through his fingers. Louis had taken everything.This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to win.He swallowed hard. One last gamble.But once he did this, there was no going back.The Broker’s hand trembled for a second. Not out of fear, but something deeper. The serum didn’t just change the body—it consumed the mind.Was he willing to lose himself for power?His jaw clenched.He’d rather be a god than a corpse.With one swift motion, he plunged the needle into his vein.Louis felt it before he saw it.A shift in the air. Something was wrong.The Broker’s seat was empty. Gone.Pearl’s grip on his arm tightened. “Where the hell is he?”Then—alarms

Louis barely had time to react as The Broker crashed through a set of steel doors, stumbling onto the rooftop.The neon glow of Apple City stretched before them, its lights flickering in the distance. The wind howled, cold and sharp against the sweat on Louis’s skin.The Broker’s breath came in ragged, uneven gasps, his once-pristine suit now nothing but tattered fabric clinging to his mutated, shaking frame. His skin pulsed unnaturally, veins bulging, his muscles twitching violently as the unstable serum ate away at his body.He was falling apart.Louis stepped onto the rooftop, rolling his shoulders. Bruised, battered, but still standing. Still him.The Broker turned, his bloodshot eyes filled with a twisted mix of rage and desperation. “You… ruined everything…”Louis exhaled, cracking his knuckles. “Yeah, I tend to do that.”And then—the fight wasn’t over.The Broker lunged, swinging wildly, his movements sloppy and unhinged.Louis dodged with effortless precision, twisting away as

Louis had spent years burying his past, locking away the questions that had no answers, pretending that Eleanor Kindsor was just a ghost in his bloodline rather than a force that had shaped him.Now, here she was—reaching from the grave, pulling him back in.His mother’s seal stared back at him from the letter Isabella had placed on his desk.His fingers hovered over the envelope for a moment longer than he’d ever admit.Eleanor Kindsor had never been sentimental.She wasn’t the kind of mother who wrote long, heartfelt letters or whispered I love yous before bedtime.If she wrote this, it meant something.He finally broke the wax seal.The paper inside was aged but crisp. Deliberate. Precise.His mother’s signature style.No greetings. No emotions. Just instructions."If you are reading this, it means you have survived.""You always were the strongest of us, my son.""But strength is not enough.""You must go to the coordinates below. The vault must be opened—but only by you.""No one