The VIP suite of North City General Hospital smelled of antiseptic and lilies, but to Chase Lu, the air still tasted like smoke.He sat in a chair beside the bed, watching the steady rise and fall of Bella’s chest. She was asleep, an oxygen mask covering her nose and mouth. Her skin, usually flawless porcelain, was angry and red from the heat, and her hair still smelled faintly of burnt gasoline.It was 8:00 AM. The sun was rising over a city that had tried to burn him alive.Bam.The door to the suite flew open.It wasn't a doctor. It was Uncle Bob, followed closely by Adams and Grandma Song. They didn't look relieved that Bella was alive. They looked furious."You!" Uncle Bob pointed a shaking finger at Chase. "You did this!"Chase didn't stand up. He put a finger to his lips. "She is sleeping. Get out.""Sleep?" Adams shrieked, marching into the room. "How can anyone sleep? Do you know what the news is saying? The warehouse is gone! Five billion dollars of stock! Gone!""Keep your

The VIP balcony of the Tiger’s Den overlooked the ruined dance floor like a warlord’s citadel overlooking a conquered battlefield. But tonight, the conqueror was the man walking up the steps, his black funeral suit completely pristine amidst the carnage.Chase Lu stepped onto the plush, blood-red carpet of the landing.He stood face-to-face with the Iron Tyrant.The Dragon Head of the Black Tiger Gang was a mountain of a man, standing six feet and eight inches tall. His bare torso was a canvas of thick, knotted scar tissue and faded tattoos from the underground death matches of Macau. He was a relic of an older, bloodier era of the North Underworld; a time when territory was paid for with severed heads, not corporate lawsuits.Behind the giant sat a massive, hand-carved mahogany throne, flanked by floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of the dark city.Iron Tyrant looked down at the slender, elegant man before him. He looked at the trail of one hundred broken gangster

The penthouse suite of the Fang Family headquarters was a monument to absolute wealth. Massive windows overlooked the southern coastline, displaying a panoramic view of the dark, churning ocean. Vincent Fang stood by the glass, holding a crystal flute filled with golden champagne. His white jacket was immaculate, his hair styled with geometric precision. "A toast," Vincent said, turning to his assistant, Linda. "To the fragility of new money." Linda raised her glass, her sharp features relaxing into a rare, genuine smile. "The fire burned completely, sir. Our informants in North City report that the Titanium Group warehouse is nothing but ash. Five billion dollars, melted into the ground." "And Chase Lu?" Vincent asked, taking a slow sip. "He carried his wife out of the flames," Linda replied, checking her encrypted tablet. "She is in the hospital recovering from smoke inhalation. He has not left her side. The local police officially ruled it an electrical accident. The Governor tr

The heavy oak door of the master bedroom clicked shut, followed by the distinct metallic slide of a deadbolt.​Bella Song opened her eyes. Her vision swam in a dizzying pool of gray shadows. Her mouth felt stuffed with dry cotton. She tried to sit up, but her muscles refused to obey her commands immediately. The sedative Grandma Song had slipped into her tea was still ravaging her system.​She forced herself to roll off the silk sheets. Her knees hit the plush carpet. She crawled toward the solid wooden door and grabbed the brass handle. It did not budge.​"Let me out," Bella rasped, her voice barely a whisper. She pounded her fist against the wood. "Mother! Grandma!"​A voice echoed from the hallway outside. It was cold and utterly devoid of remorse.​"You are awake," Grandma Song said through the thick wood. "The dressmakers will arrive in four hours to measure you for the bridal gown. Do not make this difficult, Bella. Vincent Fang has already sent a private security detail. There

Chase tightened his grip just enough to cut off the air supply to the Prince of the South. Vincent clawed frantically at the pristine white silk sleeve of Chase's tuxedo, his expensive leather shoes kicking uselessly above the scattered gold bars.​"Put him down right now!" Grandma Song shrieked from the front row. "You violent thug! You are ruining everything for this family!"​Chase completely ignored the old woman. He leaned closer to Vincent. "Tell me where she is. Or I will crush your windpipe right here."​Vincent gasped, his face turning a dangerous shade of purple. He managed to force a single, wet laugh from his throat. He looked past Chase, staring toward the shadows of the ballroom exits.​"You think you brought enough men?" Vincent wheezed, spit flying from his lips. "I knew your corporate thugs would try something today. I hired the entire local underworld to supplement my security. Kill him! Kill him now! He is trespassing!"​Vincent raised his hand, making a frantic, ch