ENDS OF REEDS, RISE OF VEYRA“Veyra Holdings? Elara muttered as she laughed dryly. "My company? No, this must be a joke." New murmurs began to fly as heads snapped toward Elara, then back to Vanessa, then back again. Some people leaned in closer, eyes wide, while some stepped back like they were afraid of her. Elara turned to Ryan, staring, searching his eyes for anything–anything that'd tell her that he was joking. But he held no emotion of that sort. She knew he was serious, but the ridiculousness of the entire timing felt like it was nothing but a show. It wasn't until her gaze traveled to the display board towering above the bell, flashing real-time market data, that it fully dawned on her. Everyone turned their gaze too, watching as Veyra Holdings slowly crept up, its stock prices flickering upwards before surging past Vanessa's. The entire hall fell silent as the Veyra Holdings symbol flashed vibrantly at the number one spot. “W-what?" Vanessa breathed, her voice cracking as

WOLF IN SAVIOR'S CLOTHINGThe ceiling fan creaked as it swirled above them, filling the air with the same musty smell that settled on the seats. A cricket chirped at a corner, filling the silence that had already settled in the room. Sebastian sank into the seat, holding his breath as he scrolled through his phone. Vanessa paced back and forth, her voice echoing off the walls as she shouted. “What did you even do to put you in there?" she said, covering her face with her hands as she shook her head. "It had to be something bad, of course. And you had to pull your friends in too. Do you know how much stress you put me into?" She paused, turning to her mother who was silent the entire time. “Are you even listening to me?" Margaret hissed, her face squeezing as she placed the icebag on her black eye. Theresa's claw marks on her skin still stung and moving did nothing to help. She could only sit still, taking in slow breaths as she stared at the varnish table in front of her. “Why did

SHE TEMPTSDamien plopped the last bite of steak into his mouth, chewing deliberately, slowly as he stared at Elara. She had been silent and had refused to look at him since he came in. The silver fork clinked against the ceramic plate as he set it down. Elara's eyes dropped to his empty plate then returned back to hers without a word. He noticed it. Swallowing, Damien grabbed the napkin from before him and wiped his mouth. With a low grunt, he finally rose from the stool. Her eyes never leaving her plate, she leaned back into her seat and exhaled. “Um… where are you going?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.Damien didn't answer immediately. He just lifted his hands and began adjusting the cufflinks of his sleeves. “I need to meet with Ryan, my subordinate," he said as he straightened the color of his shirt. “We need to discuss some matters regarding one of my other companies." “One… of…" Elara whispered. Damien, raising a brow and glancing down at her shocked express

CAUGHT IN THE OPENSebastian tossed Vanessa's things into the car–her purse on the passenger seat, her tablet into the compartment, her jacket thrown across the back. One hand shoved into his pocket, he slammed the door and rested against the car. As he waited for her to finish up, his mind replayed everything that had happened in the meeting. He could still see the way the directors had looked at him and the way Vanessa hadn't. She’d dismissed his idea like his words were mere dust on her sleeve. “A waste of time and resources," he muttered under his breath. The words burned. He had stood beside her all this while. Had her trust with him–and now, she was slipping away. Footsteps echoed across the lot and he looked up. Vanessa, phone pressed to her ear, emerged from the elevator lobby. Laughter spilled from her lips in a way that felt warm. Familiar. Too familiar. He straightened unconsciously, eyes narrowing as she drew closer. “... don't say that," Vanessa said into the pho

BLOOD DEBT“I need to see Don Rafael." Blood pooled down his knuckles and his chest rose and fell as he breathed heavily. The man under him groaned as the other guards rushed to help him up. His face was a mess–missing teeth and a bloodied face. Every air he took sounded like a wet gurgle. Sebastian, hands still raised, looked up at the corners of the ruins where the red lights were coming from. Three shooters at the top left and five scattered across the pillars. Any sudden movement and he'd be dropped dead. There was no fighting his way out of this one. “I just want to talk," he shouted as he calmly dropped down to his knees. “It's Sebastian." At first, there was silence. Then slow clapping echoed from inside the structure. “Well, well, well," a deep voice drawled from within followed by the sound of heavy, steady footsteps. “If it isn't the prodigal son." A tall man stepped into the light–lean, sharp-eyed, dressed completely in black. He had a long scar that ran from his lef