Glass and SteelRain poured over the polished marble plaza of Apex Tower, hammering against the dark, bulletproof glass facade. The giant metallic gates of the skyscraper had slammed shut, turning the eighty-story building into a modern fortress.I stepped out of my sleek black sedan, rolling a leather folder containing the absolute foreclosure papers under my arm. Rain soaked my dark suit jacket in seconds, but I didn't care to rush. Why run when you already own the finish line?A dozens-strong private security detail waited inside the double-layered, reinforced glass atrium. They wore full tactical armor, gripping military-grade rifles like nervous rookies on their first patrol. At the head of the formation stood Commander Vance, a scarred mercenary chief hired by Marcus to keep the world out.I walked up the granite steps, stopping inches from the massive glass doors.Commander Vance stepped forward on the other side of the barrier, lifting a megaphone to his mouth. His voice boome

Zero HourForty-eight hours. That was all the time it took to rewrite the financial map of River City.I stood near the floor-to-ceiling glass in the executive suit on the top floor of the new Sterling Enterprises headquarters. Rain streaked across the glass, reflecting the neon grid of the metropolis below. My dark suit was crisp, untouched by the chaos that had consumed the city's financial district over two full days. In my hand, a ceramic cup of black coffee gave off a thin spiral of steam. Simple. Quiet.Ghost leaned against the polished oak desk behind me, scrolling through a tablet. "The final transfer cleared ten minutes ago," he murmured, his tone dry as bone. "The Apex Group's port operations, logistics networks, and regional tech patents are now fully integrated under Sterling Enterprises.""And the market reaction?" I asked without turning around."Panicked at first. Total submission now," Ghost replied, tapping the screen. "With the Hayes Group bankrupt and Apex liquidate

Iron ContractsRain slicked the high-rise glass outside my private office, turning the capital skyline into a smear of grey. I sat back in the leather chair, swirling a cold mug of cheap diner coffee. Across the desk, Ghost tapped away at his customized terminal, blue light reflecting off his wire-rimmed glasses."They entered the outer perimeter ten minutes ago," Ghost said without looking up. His fingers flew across the mechanical keyboard with rapid precision. "Crossing the northern border line right through the dense ridge route. They think the mountain radar dead zone will shield them.""They always think that," I said. I took a slow sip of the bitter coffee. "Who took the contract?""The Red Scythe," Ghost replied. He brought up a live tactical map onto the wall monitor, displaying a cluster of red heat signatures moving through the valley. "The Capital Alliance cleared out their private offshore accounts to pay the retainer. Five hundred million upfront. Another five hundred mi

The outer courtyard smelled like rain, scorched iron, and expensive gravel. Heavy armored transport vehicles had already rammed straight through the wrought-iron front gates, grinding the gilded Sterling crest into black mud. Floodlights mounted on the lead trucks swept across the dark glass of the main residence, casting long, sharp shadows over the formal gardens.I stood on the broad marble steps leading up to the front entrance. My jacket was unbuttoned, hands resting lightly in my pockets. No tactical vest. No automatic rifle. So, from their perspective, I was just a misplaced butler or a lost servant who had forgotten to run away."Target spotted on the front entry," a harsh voice crackled over a comms channel. The speaker was a massive guy leading the vanguard team, clad in full-body ceramic armor and carrying a ballistic assault shield that looked like it belonged on a light tank. "Single civilian asset. Disregard non-lethal rules. Clear the porch."They moved in a tight wedge

Rain slammed against the stone pavers of the courtyard, cold and unrelenting. So, the Capital Alliance really scraped the bottom of the barrel this time. They sent heavy hitters, but hiring cheap mercenaries with bright toys was a major design flaw. Red laser dots danced across my wet leather jacket, intersecting right over my chest. Six sniper teams. All positioned on the surrounding rooftops of the estate, thinking they held the high ground.I stood near the marble fountain, completely motionless. Water pooled in my boots. My suit was ruined, but anyway, keeping up appearances as a humble bodyguard was getting exhausting. I needed to clear these rooftop shooters without flexing my true lethality in front of the estate's security cameras. If Evelyn saw me drop six men from two hundred yards using basic physics and a pocketknife, the cover story would blow wide open."Target locked," a raspy voice crackled from a radio on the belt of a downed vanguard soldier near my feet. "Taking the