The moment Serena and Helena disappeared into the night, Nick felt it: a thread of foreign presence lingering at the edge of his awareness, faint but unmistakable.Someone was watching.His expression hardened. Without turning, he shifted his weight and let one hand drift behind his back, fingers already poised. Whoever had chosen to lurk in the shadows had made a poor decision. He would give them exactly one chance to show themselves."You went through the trouble of coming all this way," he said, his voice carrying easily through the still air. "So why hide?"A rustle answered him, leaves shivering overhead. Nick's gaze snapped upward, and there, balanced on a thick branch with the casual grace of a hunting cat, stood a figure cloaked in darkness.She dropped, landing without sound, and stepped forward until the moonlight caught her face.A curl tugged at Nick's lips. "Well, I didn't expect it to be you."Beatrix Sterling stood before him in a fi

When Beatrix Sterling's words landed, Lydia Crane turned toward her brother with wide, disbelieving eyes. The color drained from her face, and her lips parted twice before she managed to speak."Nick, please tell me she's making this up." Her voice climbed, tight with barely restrained emotion. "What exactly is going on between you two? What about Celia?"Celia Prescott stood just behind Lydia, close enough that her shoulder brushed the younger girl's arm. She hadn't said a word. She didn't need to. The tremor running through her body spoke volumes, a fine shaking that started in her fingers and worked inward until her entire frame quivered.She remembered the night she had walked away from the Prescott family. Every warning her relatives had hurled at her, every cold glare, every declaration that she was throwing her life away. She had squared her shoulders and chosen Nick Crane without a backward glance. Now, standing in this room with another woman's perfume still

"What do we do? What do we do?""I'm going to die today, aren't I?"the Gold-and-Silver Baron paced back and forth in frantic circles, his silk robes soaked through with sweat. Every step was shorter than the last, as though the walls of the Citadel were already closing in on him.The vault had been built from reinforced composites, materials engineered to withstand breaching charges and military-grade ordnance. Even a Blademaster would struggle to force entry. That was what he'd been told when he commissioned the thing, and that was the thought he clung to now like a drowning man clutching driftwood.But Nick Crane was no ordinary practitioner. Nick Crane was something else entirely, a madman, a force of nature that defied every calculation.Octavian Vale had no answers either, though he refused to let it show. His throat was dry, and each percussive boom from beyond the reinforced door sent a fresh jolt of electricity through his spine. He pressed his back

The matter now pointed toward a Warlord-tier figure. That meant finding one, no matter where the trail led.Regardless of cost, regardless of danger, the truth behind the Crane Massacre would be dragged into the light. Nick Crane would see to that personally."Serena, Helena," he called.The two women stepped forward in unison, their postures crisp and attentive."Warden, we've completed the full audit of the Gold-and-Silver Baron's assets," Serena reported. "The transfer paperwork is already in motion. By tonight, everything will be consolidated under the Crane Group."Nick gave a short nod of acknowledgment, then spoke without preamble. "Look into the Warlord."The two exchanged a glance. Neither spoke immediately, but the concern was plain on their faces, etched into the subtle tightening around their eyes and the way Helena's fingers curled at her side.Nick caught the hesitation. "What is it?"Serena stepped closer, her tone careful, meas

The sneer on Desmond Gallagher's face made it clear he did not consider Nick Crane worth a second thought. He shifted his weight and closed the distance in a blur of speed, his open palm already sweeping toward Nick's skull with enough force to crack bone.It connected with nothing but air."How is that possible?" Desmond's eyes went wide. He was a Grandmaster, a fighter who had honed his body and instincts across decades of brutal training. The idea that he could miss a stationary target at point-blank range was inconceivable, yet here he stood, palm hanging in the empty space where Nick's head had been a heartbeat ago.Before the shock could fully register, Nick was already behind him."Die."The word was quiet, almost casual. Nick's hand moved once, and Desmond Gallagher crumpled, his body hitting the floor with a dull, final thud. One strike. That was all it took.The onlookers stared in stunned silence. This was a Grandmaster, a warrior who could h