Jack Hardy The Legacy Returns

Jack Hardy lounged in a street corner cafe, his thumb swiping lazily across his smartphone's screen.

He paused on a global news headline in his feed. "The Jaguar Cartel Wiped Out Overnight. No Survivors."

In a fortified compound deep in South America, all members of the world's deadliest cartel were found dead.

The article called it the most baffling massacre in modern criminal history, one that could only have been carried out by a platoon-sized military force.

An empire had fallen, but no one had claimed responsibility. Analysts pointed instead to the work of a mysterious god of war: the Dark Prince.

Jack's mouth twitched with a frown. He locked the phone and set it face down on the table. "I'm done getting the credit."

Jack had walked away from the underworld a month ago, after annihilating the Jaguar Cartel for ambushing and killing his subordinates during peace talks. He'd vanished off the grid and blended into civilian life.

A waitress named Emma approached Jack with his coffee, disrupting his train of thought. She was around twenty, with auburn hair tied in a loose ponytail.

"Black coffee, no sugar," she said, smiling flirtatiously. "I hope it is to your liking."

Jack glanced up briefly and nodded. "Thanks."

Emma didn't leave right away. She tilted her head, letting a strand of hair fall across her blushing cheeks. "Do you come here often? A guy like you shouldn't have to drink coffee by himself."

He gave her a polite half-smile. "Don't mind me. I like the quiet."

Emma's smile faltered, just a fraction. "I get off work at four every day…" She let the offer hang, then turned and walked away, her hips swaying a little more than before.

Jack's phone buzzed on the table — uncanny, since it was a burner device he'd bought only yesterday. With a quiet groan, he accepted the call and put it to his ear

 "Hi, Dad."

Victor Damone Cromwell was his father, Marshal Commander of the Springfield Military Alliance, the most powerful non-governmental enforcement organization on the planet.

"Don't DAD me!" Victor boomed. "Do you have any idea how long we've been looking for you?"

"I'm done fighting wars," Jack cut in. "They never end."

"Done with them?" Victor's tone sharpened. "Have you forgotten you are the sole heir to Springfield? Armies that can crush every nation are at your disposal. Moreover, you massacred the Jaguar Cartel by yourself? Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

"I'm tired of counting the dead—my friends, brothers, and loved ones. I'm out, Dad."

Victor cursed, then went quiet. A moment later, a softer voice came on the line.

"Jack? Sweetheart? You know the Cromwell family runs the world, and you're its next leader. Please come back."

It was his mother's voice. Ashley Palmer Cromwell—the only person he truly cared about in the world.

He needed a fast and clean exit, or his parents would keep stalking and hounding him until he returned to Springfield.

"Do you remember what you promised me, Mom?" he said quietly.

"What promise?" Ashley asked, sounding guarded.

"You said if I ever settled down and got married, you'd let me leave the Springfield Alliance. Right now, I'm waiting for my date, and she'll be here any minute. I'm going to marry this woman."

"Really? Are you serious?" Ashley exclaimed in shock, mainly because Jack had never allowed romance to break his hard shell, no matter how attractive or perfect the women were.

Victor butted in, sputtering in desperation. "You're getting married? To whom? When did this happen—"

"I gotta go," Jack said sharply. "Love you both."

He ended the call before his parents could get another word in. Jack took a sip of his coffee and checked the dating app on his phone.

His perfect match's name was Clara Ford—a simple, pretty brunette with dimples and warm eyes. She was the ideal woman to settle down with and start a family.

The cafe door opened with a soft chime. A woman stepped inside, and the air seemed to shift suddenly. She was elegant, tall, and poised, with long dark hair that fell in perfect waves over an expensive cream-colored coat.

Everything about her screamed beauty and wealth.

Behind her, twelve men in identical black suits entered. They wore earpieces, and their eyes scanned the room like Secret Service agents as they fanned out, taking positions near exits and windows.

The beautiful woman glanced over the tables without interest until her eyes landed on Jack. She walked straight towards him with urgency. Stopping at his table, she stared down at him,

"Are you Jack Hardy?" she asked patronizingly.

Jack looked up slowly with a raised eyebrow. This woman bearing down on him couldn't possibly be his date, Clara Ford.

She was attractive in an overwhelming way—high cheekbones, full, bee-stung lips, hazel-green eyes, and a stunning body that could give international supermodels a run for their money.

Jack was momentarily captivated. He glanced at his phone again, then back at her. "You aren't Clara, are you?"

"No, I am obviously not," she said haughtily, making the young man breathe a sigh of relief.

Regardless of how beautiful this mortal goddess was, there was no way he could marry someone so rude and bossy.

"The Clara Ford account on the dating app was fake," she quickly added. "I don't put my real name and face on public apps."

Jack raised his brows and leaned back in surprise. "So who are you, really?"

She met his gaze without blinking. "I'm Juliet Forbes—heiress to the Forbes empire. And I'm your blind date."