The sound of the car engine roared in Ethan’s ears, the city lights blurring past them as they sped down the deserted road. It was well into the night, but sleep was the furthest thing from Ethan’s mind. His thoughts were a tangled mess, filled with questions and suspicions he couldn’t yet answer. The weight of the unknown pressed down on him like an invisible force, making each breath feel heavier.Clara sat in the front seat, her posture tense, eyes darting to the rearview mirror as if expecting someone to tail them at any moment. Jason, always the vigilant driver, kept his focus on the road ahead, but Ethan knew that his mind was racing just as fast as his own. They were all on edge, unsure of what awaited them next.The night felt colder than it had any right to. Ethan’s fingers tightened around the edge of his seat as the pieces of their shattered world floated through his mind like fragments of a broken mirror. The things they had been told, the lies they had been fed—it was all

Ethan’s heart pounded in his chest as the guards’ footsteps echoed through the cavernous storage room. The air felt thick with tension, and the flickering shadows seemed to stretch longer, mocking their fragile cover. The seconds ticked by agonizingly slow as the two guards continued their methodical search, their eyes scanning every corner, every crack in the warehouse.Ethan held his breath, his pulse hammering in his ears. He could feel Clara’s tense presence beside him, the way she shifted slightly, barely a whisper of movement. Jason was close too, his body tense, like a coiled spring, ready to react.The guards were drawing closer, oblivious to the danger that waited in the shadows. Ethan’s mind raced through options, but none of them seemed like good choices. They needed to get past them without being noticed, but the room was too open, too exposed. It was a dangerous game of cat and mouse, and one wrong move would spell disaster.One of the guards paused, his boots scraping ag

Ethan’s mind was reeling as the words “The King” echoed in his head, but there was no time to contemplate the meaning behind them. Every instinct told him that the moment of reckoning was upon them. The real battle had only just begun. Victor’s expression hardened as he glanced at the phone, his hand trembling slightly as he swiped across the screen. “It’s them,” he muttered, his voice low but thick with frustration. “They think they can stop this. They’re wrong.” Ethan’s gaze flicked to the mysterious man sitting across from Victor. He was tall, his face partially obscured by shadows, but the cold, calculating aura that surrounded him was unmistakable. This was no ordinary criminal. Whoever he was, he had power, influence, and connections that reached far beyond this warehouse. Jason motioned for Ethan to move forward, signaling with a flick of his hand. Clara was already a s

Ethan’s heart was still pounding in his chest, the sound of it deafening in his ears. He was hyperaware of the room around him—the broken glass from the door, the scattered bodies of men who had been far too eager to die, and Clara standing beside him, her expression grim but unwavering. It was a victory of sorts, but Ethan knew better than to allow himself a moment of relief. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. The retreat had been swift and precise. The mysterious man—the one who had spoken of “The King”—had made sure to leave no trace, no sign of a battle other than the carnage left in their wake. They’d disappeared into the shadows as quickly as they’d appeared, but Ethan knew they weren’t gone for good. No one who operated with the kind of cold, calculated precision they had just witnessed was ever truly gone. Clara moved toward the wreckage of the door, her eyes scanning the room as though searching for any lingering threats. She was a

Ethan’s heart was still pounding in his chest, the sound of it deafening in his ears. He was hyperaware of the room around him—the broken glass from the door, the scattered bodies of men who had been far too eager to die, and Clara standing beside him, her expression grim but unwavering. It was a victory of sorts, but Ethan knew better than to allow himself a moment of relief. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. The retreat had been swift and precise. The mysterious man—the one who had spoken of “The King”—had made sure to leave no trace, no sign of a battle other than the carnage left in their wake. They’d disappeared into the shadows as quickly as they’d appeared, but Ethan knew they weren’t gone for good. No one who operated with the kind of cold, calculated precision they had just witnessed was ever truly gone. Clara moved toward the wreckage of the door, her eyes scanning the room as though searching for any lingering threats.