“Miss Yvonne…”Ricky’s low voice startled her.Her head snapped around, wide-eyed, and she hissed, “Shut up!”He froze, blinking at her, but his gaze immediately dropped to the bulging bag in her arms.Before he could speak, a faint creak echoed from her father’s room nearby. Without hesitation, she yanked Ricky inside, shutting the door softly behind them. Pressing him to the side, she leaned between the door and the wall, one hand gripping the knob, ears straining to catch any sound from the hallway.Ricky’s gaze flicked to the bag again, his brows furrowing in suspicion.“Miss…,” he whispered carefully, “did you… go into the room your father restricted?”“Ssh!” she hissed sharply.Then she heard footsteps. Heavy, deliberate. Yvonne’s heart lurched. She dropped the knob and, without thinking, pressed a hand against Ricky’s chest, leaning in so quickly her lips brushed his. The accidental kiss froze them both in place.His hand instinctively moved, shutting the door completely and se

For a moment, silence drowned the room.Barbara’s jaw tightened, her hand curling into a fist by her side. Zach’s brows furrowed faintly, his voice even but laced with quiet tension.“Yvonne,” he said carefully, “I appreciate the invitation… but you don’t get to decide who I bring or don’t bring.”Yvonne blinked, feigning surprise but masking her frustration with a gentle laugh. “Of course,” she said softly, though the glint in her eyes betrayed her annoyance.Barbara took a step forward, her tone quiet yet cutting. “Good. Because this isn’t going to be one of those little games where you test boundaries.”Yvonne’s lips curved faintly. “Oh, don’t worry, Barbara. I don’t play games.”“Mm.” Barbara tilted her head, her smile tight, faintly mocking. “Neither do I.”The two women stared at each other, tension coiling in the air. Zach glanced between them but said nothing, momentarily speechless. Breaking the silence, Yvonne’s voice softened as she fixed her gaze on Zach, though her words

The moon hung pale and swollen in the ink-black sky, its light spilling faintly across the sprawling Dawson estate. Midnight cloaked the mansion in silence, save for the faint rustle of leaves as a cool breeze drifted through the gardens.Dawson slipped out of the back door, his footsteps light but urgent, his breath shallow as his eyes darted around the grounds. He moved cautiously, hugging the shadowed walls, until he reached a narrow gravel path hidden behind overgrown hedges. The path curved toward a concealed entrance, a heavy, steel-framed door embedded into the earth at the far back of the estate.He glanced over his shoulder, ensuring no one followed, then crouched before a keypad, fingers trembling slightly as he entered a ten-digit password. A soft click sounded, and the reinforced door groaned open, revealing a dimly lit staircase descending deep underground.Taking a steadying breath, Dawson slipped inside, closing the door behind him.The air was cool and damp beneath the

The air was thick with tension. Zach stood, staring vaguely at the door, his posture firm, his face calm but hard. “I’ll take Rabiu myself,” he said, his voice sharp as steel, cutting through the silence. The others stirred uneasily before him, exchanging glances, but his gaze was firm and commanding. “No interference. No one follows. He’s mine.”There was something in the way he said it, a cold finality that allowed no argument. But Laura stepped forward hesitantly.“Young Master… are you sure? Rabiu doesn’t play fair. He’s…”“I said he’s mine,” Zach snapped, his voice low but heavy with authority. “Not a soul follows me, or you’ll regret it.”Reluctantly, Laura nodded and stepped back, though his frown deepened. The sound of Zach’s boots echoed as he mounted the staircase.Later that night, Rabiu arrived at the warehouse, his footsteps crunching against the gravel. He was confident, smug even, his lips curled in a sly smile. His hand toyed with the black leather pouch he carried,

By dawn the following morning, Zach stood at the center of the dimly lit chamber, his gaze fixed on the unconscious figure lying on the bed, Grand Master Tom, his grandfather. Shadows danced across the stone walls as candle flames flickered, their golden glow glinting off the seven rare items carefully arranged before him on a small marble altar.The Nightshade Pearl, with its faint purple luminescence, lay beside the delicate Veilroot Herb, its translucent leaves veined with silvery streaks. The Heart of Solis pulsed faintly as though it carried life itself, while the Ashen Myrrh gave off a smoky scent that clung to the air. The Celestial Fang, a small shard rumored to be from a beast that hunted under starlight, rested beside the Obsidian Tear, which shimmered like trapped night. And finally, the Imperial Stone, ancient and engraved with runes, anchored the sacred set.Dr. Kieran, a man whose silver-streaked hair and weathered face spoke of decades of study in the mystical arts, bro