2025-02-24 17:41:22Silas stepped into the luxurious lobby of the Grand Regency Hotel. The golden chandeliers sparkled above, their light reflecting off the marble floors.
Elegantly dressed guests moved about, their laughter and chatter filling the air. Silas adjusted his worn-out jacket and stepped toward the reception desk. The receptionist barely glanced at him as he approached. “Yes?” she said curtly, her manicured fingers hovering over the keyboard. “I’d like a room for the night,” Silas said quietly, his voice steady despite her dismissive tone. Her gaze flicked over him, her expression skeptical. “Do you have a reservation?” “No. I need something available now. VVIP section, please.” She raised an eyebrow, her fingers pausing mid-air. “VVIP?” she repeated, as though the very word coming from his lips was a mistake. “Yes,” Silas replied, his tone calm but firm. “Is that a problem?” The receptionist’s lips curled into a faint smirk. “We don’t usually take walk-ins for the VVIP section, especially without a reservation.” Silas met her gaze. “I’ll pay upfront.” Her expression didn’t soften. “Your payment method?” Without a word, Silas reached into his pocket and placed the sleek green card the butler had given him on the counter. The receptionist’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing in suspicion. “This…” she began, picking up the card delicately. “This is a premium card.” “Yes, it is,” Silas replied, his tone clipped. “Now, can you confirm the booking?” “I’ll need a moment to verify, we need to make sure it’s not stolen” she said, examining the card as though it might bite her, while her eyes bore into Silas’s body. Her gaze flicked to him again, doubt clear on her face. “You don’t look like—” Silas interrupted her. “Like someone who carries a card like that? Go ahead, check it.” The receptionist gave a tight smile. “As you wish.” She proceeded to slip the card into the reader, her eyes darting between the screen and Silas. Before she could begin the process, loud laughter echoed through the lobby. Silas turned, his body stiffening. Damien. The man strolled in, his arm wrapped around a petite brunette in a shimmering skimpy red dress. Her laughter was high and carefree as she leaned into him. Silas’s chest tightened. He hadn’t expected to see Damien again so soon, and certainly not here, with another woman. “What about Lilian?” Silas muttered under his breath, his mind racing. Weren’t they supposed to be together now that she had discarded him? As if sensing his thoughts, Damien’s sharp eyes caught sight of Silas. His steps slowed, and his expression shifted into one of amused disbelief. “Well, look who it is,” Damien said loudly, whispering something to the woman, who giggled and walked ahead to the lounge. He sauntered over, his smirk widening with every step. “Silas,” Damien said, his voice dripping with mock surprise. “Of all the places in the city, I find you here? What are you doing? Did Lilian send you to spy on me?” Silas frowned but kept his voice steady. “I’m here for my own reasons. Leave me alone.” Damien chuckled, leaning casually against the counter. “Your own reasons? Let me guess. You’re trying to find a way to cling to some shred of relevance, aren’t you?” Silas ignored him and turned back to the receptionist. “Is the card verified yet?” The receptionist hesitated, glancing between the two men. “Sir,” she asked Damien, “do you know him?” “Oh, I know him,” Damien replied, laughing. “He’s my ex’s pitiful excuse for a husband. Well, ex-husband now, I suppose. Isn’t that right, Silas?” Silas’s fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles white. “Keep my name out of your mouth.” Damien feigned a look of shock. “Oh, touchy, are we? I hit a nerve, didn’t I?” Damien’s laugh rang out again. “Don’t bother” he faced the receptionist. “Oh, come on, Silas. Why even bother? You don’t belong in a place like this. Honestly, it’s embarrassing to watch.” Silas turned to him, his expression calm but his voice firm. “Damien, I’m not here to argue. Walk away.” “Walk away?” Damien said, feigning shock. “You think you can order me around? Let me make something clear, Silas—you’re out of your depth.” “You know what? Get the guards to chase this stalker away before he brings his bad luck and wretchedness to this fine establishment.” Silas sighed, his patience fraying. “Why are you so fixated on me? Aren’t you supposed to be enjoying your evening with her?” Damien’s smirk faltered for a brief moment before he recovered. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself. I just find it amusing to see you in a place you clearly don’t belong.” “Damien, you’ve already taken everything you wanted from me,” Silas said, his voice low but firm. “Isn’t that enough?” Damien leaned closer, his tone mocking. “It’ll never be enough, Silas. Watching you squirm is just too entertaining.” The receptionist cleared her throat. “Excuse me, but we don’t accept stolen items.” “What do you mean stolen item? Did you even run the card through?.” Silas’s confused was glaring The receptionist , her gaze darting between Silas and Damien. “We all know this isn’t your card, you don’t even look the part.” Silas’s patience snapped. “Do you think I’d be standing here if it wasn’t? Run it again if you need to, but stop wasting my time.” Damien laughed again, stepping in front of Silas. “Oh, this is priceless. You actually think you’re convincing anyone? Tell you what, Silas—kneel and beg me for help, and maybe I’ll convince the manager to let you stay.”
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Chapter 061
Dawn’s pale light seeped through the mist that clung to the outer walls of the mystic estate, a fortress hidden deep in a forest of gnarled oaks. In the training fields beyond the ivy‐clad ramparts, dozens of figures sparred and drilled under the watchful eyes of masked instructors. Wooden dummies bore the scars of relentless blade practice; archers let fly endless arrows at distant targets; hand‐to‐hand combatants thrashed each other in measured sequences that rang with authority.Within the fortress walls, carved pathways of smooth black stone led to the Faceless Man’s private wing. At the end of one hallway, Amanda strode forward, her dark hair tied in a tight knot at the nape of her neck. Her face was set in a stern expression—eyes hard as polished obsidian. As she passed, armored trainees paused mid‐strike, bowed their heads, and whispered, “Mistress Amanda.” Their weapons lowered in respect, an unspoken pledge of loyalty.At the heavy iron door to the Faceless Man’s inner sa
Chapter 060
Midnight’s hush lay over Damien Carter’s penthouse, the city’s glow a distant nebula beyond floor-to-ceiling windows. In the center of the opulent bedroom-turned-office, Damien sat at a sleek glass desk, three monitors flickering with the faces of his clandestine council: five men in shadowed suits, their features hidden by dim lighting and tight camera angles. A single pendant light above Damien cast his angular face in half shadow as he leaned forward, fingers steepled.The council’s leader, a voice like gravel stirred by a whisper, spoke first. “Report, Damien. Miss Lawson’s situation—status?”Damien offered a thin smile, tapping a folder stamped *Operation Deep Veil*. “Progressing as planned. I’ve delayed the final breach to lull her into false security. Immediate escalation would raise alarms at Lawson Industries. We can’t let her suspect internal betrayal.”A gruff voice—Councilman Rourke—snapped, “But weeks have passed. Our window is closing. Explain.”Damien leaned back, pa
Chapter 059
Morning sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Lancaster Industries’ executive suite, illuminating the rows of neatly organized files and the sleek mahogany desk where Silas Lancaster sat, head buried in quarterly projections. The hum of air conditioning and the distant murmur of staff beyond the glass walls formed the steady backdrop of corporate life.Silas’s pen scratched across line after line of numbers when the door to his office opened silently—a signal he’d come to recognize. He didn’t look up. “How can I help you?” he called, voice steady.Nancy slipped in, the soft click of her heels the only hint of her entry. “You have a visitor, sir.” She closed the door behind her with a gentle hush.At last, Silas raised his head. Nancy stood beside a young woman in her mid-twenties: tall, elegant, with chestnut hair cascading in loose waves over her shoulders. Her emerald-green dress hugged her curves, the silk fabric catching the light as she moved. A pair of pearl
Chapter 058
The silk sheets pooled warmly around them as the last light of dusk filtered through the gauzy curtains of Damien’s penthouse bedroom. City lights glittered in the distance, a soft chorus of traffic and distant sirens underscoring the quiet intimacy of the room. Damien reclined against a tower of pillows, a tray balanced on his lap: two flutes of sparkling wine, a small plate of prosciutto-wrapped figs, and a pair of porcelain bowls holding vanilla-crème mousse.Lilian lay beside him, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead. She’d slipped out of her blazer and undone her blouse’s top buttons; her face was luminous in the candlelight. “This was a wonderful idea,” she murmured, tracing the rim of her glass.“Only the finest for you,” Damien replied, his voice smooth as the wine. He offered her a fig, and she bit into it, closing her eyes at the burst of sweet juice. They laughed softly, trading stories of the day: Lilian’s briefing at the company and Damien’s lecture at a pr
Chapter 057
The grandfather clock in the corner struck two in the morning, its chime rolling through the marble halls of Mat Lancaster’s private wing. Outside, a high wind rattled the leaded glass windows, stirring the potted palms that flanked the door. Inside, the heavy thump of leather on stone drowned out the storm’s whisper.Mat Lancaster stood shirtless beneath the harsh glare of overhead industrial lamps. His private gym—an expansive room of polished teak floors, lined with floor-to-ceiling mirrors and rows of state-of-the-art equipment—felt like a cathedral to discipline. A full boxing ring rested in the center, its ropes creaking softly in the draft.But Mat paid no heed to the ring. He planted his feet shoulder-width apart, fists balled, and struck the reinforced concrete wall with merciless force. Each punch echoed, sounding like a drumroll of anger. His knuckles reddened, sweat beading on his brow, trickling down his chest in warm rivulets.Again and again: wall, fist, wall, fist
Chapter 056
Silas Lancaster’s penthouse greeted him with muted opulence: floor‐to‐ceiling windows framing a neon tapestry of the city, marble floors that gleamed beneath a crystal chandelier’s soft glow, and a living wall of ivy that whispered life into the modern aesthetic. He’d just returned from the day’s final meetings—investor pitches, board consultations, and a late‐night strategy session. His tailored suit was draped over the banquette in the foyer, replaced now by a simple white T‐shirt and black training shorts.Descending the wide staircase to the main living area, he spotted Isaac—his chauffeur and confidant—standing by the panoramic windows, shoulders tense, gaze fixed on the glittering skyline. Isaac’s crisp black jacket remained buttoned, gloves still clasped in his hand, as if he’d stepped off duty but couldn’t quite leave the evening behind.Silas approached, voice gentle. “Isaac?”The chauffeur started, blinking as though awakened from a dream. “Sir? I—uh, I’m fine.” He forced
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