2025-08-19 20:52:14
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They Don't Deserve It
The tension was a living thing, coiling tighter with every passing second, the hall a tinderbox ready to ignite.Victor Crane’s voice pierced the silence, shrill and venomous, his broken arm cradled awkwardly as he stepped forward. “Don’t kill him so quickly, Mr. Tompolo! Torture him slowly!” His eyes gleamed with malicious glee, his lips curling into a sneer as he savored the thought of Warren’s suffering. The arrival of Tompolo, the Man O War, had shifted the tides of power in the room, and Victor’s confidence surged, a predator scenting blood.Tompolo’s brows knitted together, his sharp, unyielding gaze slicing through Victor like a blade. “Are you teaching me what to do?” His voice was a low growl, cold and commanding, carrying the weight of a man who bowed to no one. That single glance was a thunderbolt, and Victor’s bravado crumbled. His face drained of color, his knees trembling as if he might collapse under the sheer force of Tompolo’s presence. “No, no! Of course not…” he st
Face To Face With Man O War
Inside, Trump’s heart sank, a crushing weight of despair settling over him like a shroud. *It’s over,* he thought, his chest tightening. *Mr. Lifesmith is doomed.* The click of the banquet hall doors swinging open was like the tolling of a death knell, final and irrevocable, reverberating through the hall and sending a shiver down every spine.Twenty burly men stormed in, each a towering figure over two meters tall, their tailored suits straining against their muscular frames like armor. Their faces were masks of cold determination, their eyes glinting like polished obsidian under the chandelier light, reflecting the flickering glow like shards of night. They moved with the precision of a military unit, forming two perfect rows that flanked the entrance, their boots striking the marble in unison, the sound reverberating like a war drum that shook the very air. Their gear was a marvel of dark technology—exoskeletal enhancements woven into their suits, amplifying their strength to super
Forced To Catch Into A Reserved Favour
The air was thick with the heady scent of jasmine from extravagant floral arrangements, their petals trembling faintly as if sensing the storm brewing within the room. Beneath the elegance, a raw undercurrent of fear pulsed, sharp and metallic, as guests in their silken finery retreated to the edges of the hall. Their eyes, wide with a mix of awe and dread, darted between the towering figures of the Trump and Crane families. Whispers slithered through the crowd, their voices low but electric with anticipation. *If the Trumps and Cranes tear each other apart,* they thought, *the other families will rise like vultures, picking at the bones of their empires.* The prospect was a dark promise, heavy with ambition and treachery, hanging in the air like the prelude to a tempest.Yul Crane stood at the heart of the chaos, his face a blazing inferno of crimson, his eyes alight with a murderous intent that seemed to sear the very fabric of the room. His tailored suit did little to contain the
War Between Powerful Families
“Shut your dirty mouth!” Yul’s voice boomed, cutting through the murmurs like a thunderclap. His face was a mask of fury, his eyes blazing as he jabbed a finger at Warren. “I won’t stand here while you make baseless accusations against my son!” He turned to Cassandra, his tone icy. “Don’t interfere, Cassandra. I’ll bring an expert from abroad to treat your father. But today, this kid dies.”Now, he realized action would be louder than his voice, he can't afford to fall out of favour from the elite onlookers. Cassandra’s heart skipped a beat, but she stepped forward, placing herself between Warren and Yul. “No, you can’t hurt Mr. Lifesmith!” Her voice was firm, unwavering, despite the tremor of fear that ran through her. She was counting on Warren’s skills to save her father, and she wouldn’t let the Cranes’ vendetta derail that hope.Yul’s expression turned murderous, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Are you forcing my hand, Cassandra?” The words were a low growl, dripping with menace.
His Reason's
The grand banquet hall buzzed with a cacophony of murmurs, the clinking of crystal glasses, and the rustle of expensive fabrics as guests milled about in their finery. The air was thick with the scent of jasmine from towering floral arrangements, mingling with the faint tang of champagne. But beneath the opulence, a storm was brewing, one that centered on Warren Buffet, whose presence in the room was like a spark in a powder keg.“Are you surprised, Ms. Trump?” Warren’s voice cut through the hum, his lips curling into a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was a sharpness to his tone, a simmering undercurrent of defiance that belied the calm facade he projected. His dark eyes, stormy with unspoken pain, locked onto Cassandra Trump’s, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink to just the two of them. Her face softened, etched with an unexpected admiration. Warren had promised he’d act, regardless of the consequences, heedless of the wrath he might incur from the powerful Cr
He Dares Attack Victor!
His eyes burned with rage as he glared at Warren. “You think you can let him walk away after he’s disrupted my son’s wedding and unsettled my guests? How will the Crane family hold its head high in Ironspire if we let this slide? He may not pay with his life today, but he’ll leave his hands and legs behind!” The manager froze, caught in a dilemma. What if this troublemaker held a grudge and returned to wreak havoc again? The hotel’s reputation was already at stake.Yul, sensing the manager’s hesitation, sneered. “The Crane family will handle this ourselves. You and your men can leave.” The manager nodded eagerly, relieved to be absolved of responsibility. “Yes, yes, we’re leaving right away!” he said, ushering his guards out of the hall.Victor, Yul’s son and the groom, stepped forward, his face twisted with fury. “I don’t want his limbs, Dad! I want his life! He dared to ruin my wedding, and I’ll make him pay!” His voice trembled with rage as he glared at Warren. “I’m going to kill y
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