I opened my eyes to see Rosa staring at me. " Are you alright?" he asked, his hands placed slightly on my forehead. " Fuck! You are burning up.* " I am fine." I said immediately trying to get up to my feet. But I missed my step and fell to the floor Rossa wanted to help me up but with a wave of my hand in the air, he stepped back. " You need royal to me. I need to know how I am going to help you."he said again " I don't need anyone's help, Rossa. Zack is killing everyone and everything that I cared about. Don't you get it?" I turned trying to get up. I winced in pain as I relaxed my back against the wall. .. I could see that Rossa was down. I could see that he was not happy but I don't care. I was not going to allow anyone to die anymore because of me. If Zack wanted a fight then I was going to bring it head on to him. I was going to show him that I was not weak. I was a worthy opponent and I am going to make him regret ever looking down on me. The door opened an

" Master Han?" I called out slowly Rossa's mouth dropped in awe the moment the strange man walked in. " You were dead." I said slowly moving closer to him. " My father is dead?" The strange man said dropping the bag he was holding. " Your father?" Rossa said with his eyebrows arched. He looked at me and back at him. " You mean you are not Master Han?" " Han is my father. Why are you in his property?" he asked again. " We came to pay our respects. Your father is..." I was about to finish my words when Rossa cut me short. " Don't mind my friend here. We came to pay him a visit but unfortunately, I don't think he is around." Rossa lied. The strange man looked at us. He could tell that we were lying. " You both are either going to tell me he truth or I am going to call the cops on you!" he yelled, his lips twitching in anger. The room went quiet. The sound of a pin could be heard when dropped. " Fine!" Rossa said, throwing his hands in the air after a while. " We came to pay y

The words settled into the room like a verdict. I stood up gently and dusted my self. I could have told him to leave. Or probably beaten the shit hell out of him. But a part of me didn't. Maybe because I feared I was going to kill him or maybe I was trying to honour the man who trained me. "Fine. You are in.”For a heartbeat, no one moved.Alexander straightened slowly, like he was afraid the ground might disappear beneath him if he shifted too fast. His fists unclenched, fingers trembling—not from fear, but from the sudden release of everything he had been holding inside. Blood trickled from his brow, sliding down the bridge of his nose, but he didn’t bother to wipe it away.Rossa let out a long breath he’d been holding since the first punch was thrown. His shoulders slumped slightly, tension easing but not disappearing. He walked toward us, boots crunching over broken glass, eyes flicking between our bruised faces.“You don’t know what you just agreed to,” he said quietly, more to

The drive to the estate felt longer than usual.Zack sat in the backseat with the bouquet resting beside him, one hand loosely draped over the white peonies as if they were something delicate he needed to restrain. Purple orchids curved through the arrangement like veins of royalty—elegant, expensive, controlled.Just like everything he built.Except Jason. Things had escalated before he realised he was the last missing puzzle to solving all his problems. The gates to the mansion slid open before the car fully stopped. Security bowed their heads as the vehicle rolled through. Cameras tracked his arrival. Motion lights flared to life along the driveway, illuminating the marble steps that led to the towering entrance.The chauffeur stepped out first and opened the door.Zack took his time.He stepped out slowly, coat perfectly tailored, expression neutral. The night air brushed against his face, cool and obedient. He adjusted his cuffs again—a habit when his mind was racing.Master Ha

Martha did not feel herself hit the ground. Darkness swallowed her whole, thick and absolute, like the silence that had followed Zack’s final breath. She woke to the sound of steady beeping. Not the kind that came from a hospital monitor. Her eyelids felt heavy, as if glued shut. When she finally forced them open, the world above her blurred into white and gold. A chandelier. Not hers. His. Her heart slammed violently against her ribs. She was still in the house. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic and polished marble. She tried to sit up but something tugged at her wrists. Straps. Leather. Panic ignited instantly. She jerked against them, her breath turning sharp and ragged. “No… no, no, no—” “Easy.” The voice sliced through her like ice. She froze. Slowly, painfully, she turned her head. Zack stood by the window. Alive. Dressed in a fresh black shirt, sleeves rolled to his forearms, his posture relaxed as if they were discussing dinner plans. Not murder. Her