Novels by JDHWS

Vincent at the WindowVincent Marino stood in silence at the wide window of his office. The city stretched before him, a constellation of light and shadow. Garden Metro glittered as though it were unshaken, but he knew better. He could feel the tremor in its rhythm, the tension in its heartbeat. Cassidy’s poison had seeped into every crevice, and now the whole city carried the taste of suspicion.On his desk lay reports and clippings. Each headline sang the same tune: Elara Quinn was guilty. Fraud. Smuggler. The papers stopped just short of declaring her convicted, but the language left no room for innocence. “Alleged.” “Anonymous sources.” “Unverified evidence.” Words that were daggers without edges, slicing reputation instead of flesh.Vincent picked one up and skimmed it again, though he knew it by heart. The photographs, the numbers, the testimony — all carefully placed, too precise to be coincidence. Cassidy Quinn’s handiwork was all over it. He could almost see her smirk behind

Vincent Marino had always trusted silence more than words.Noise distracted, but silence revealed. Silence taught him which men cracked under pressure, which women hid knives behind their smiles, and which enemies were clever enough to wait in the dark rather than strike too soon. He had built his empire in Garden Metro by listening more than speaking, by letting silence expose the weaknesses of others.And so, as the city whispered Elara Quinn’s name like a curse, Vincent did not rush to defend her. He did not storm the council chambers or silence the press with threats. He watched. He listened.And in silence, he measured.The Poison in PrintOn his desk lay a neat stack of newspapers, their ink still sharp with the morning’s print.Council Probes Protégé Over Alleged Misconduct. Dockside Dealings Raise Questions About Marino’s Inner Circle. The Wounded Rose Wilts: Sympathy Sour for Elara Quinn.The words were sharp, deliberately chosen to bleed. Vincent flipped through each page

The estate was too quiet.Elara woke before dawn, though she hadn’t slept more than a few scattered hours. Her dreams had been fractured things, filled with voices calling her name, faces turning toward her, whispers swelling like a tide she couldn’t escape. Every time she jerked awake, her body was slick with sweat, her heart racing, her throat tight.When the pale glow of morning crept past her curtains, she sat up and pressed her forehead against her knees. The notebook on the nightstand caught her eye — yesterday’s page still open, the ink smudged slightly where her tears had fallen.Today I stood. My voice trembled, but it was mine.She traced the line with her fingertip, as though it might vanish if she looked away. She barely believed those words belonged to her. And yet… they did.Breakfast with DamienBy the time she made her way to the dining hall, the smell of coffee and toasted bread drifted faintly in the air. The long table stretched emptily, save for Damien seated at on

The air outside the estate felt heavier than Elara remembered.For two days she had hidden in her room, her body curled around notebooks and tears, clinging to the ember of strength she had fought to keep alive. But now Lena stood in her doorway, arms crossed, determination in her eyes.“You can’t stay locked up forever,” Lena said. “The longer you hide, the more you let Cassidy win. Come with me.”Elara’s heart thudded painfully. “Where?”“Into town. Just for groceries.” Lena held up two canvas bags, dangling them like bait. “Normal life.”Elara almost laughed — bitterly. “Normal doesn’t exist for me anymore. Not after…” Her words trailed off, choked by the memory of headlines and whispers.“Then we’ll make it exist,” Lena replied firmly. “You don’t have to talk. You don’t have to explain. You just have to walk beside me.”Elara hesitated, gripping the notebook in her hand until her knuckles whitened. The thought of strangers’ eyes burned her skin already. But hiding forever wasn’t a

The sun had risen high by the time Elara finally stirred from her room. Her body felt heavy, her limbs leaden from a night of restless thoughts and tear-stained pages. For hours, she had sat staring at the notebook, rereading the words she’d forced onto paper: I refuse to stop breathing.The ember inside her still flickered, faint but steady. It was enough to drag her to her feet.When she opened her door, the hallway seemed sharper, brighter than it had before. The murmur of voices downstairs carried faintly upward. She hesitated, clutching the notebook to her chest. What if they all looked at her with suspicion? What if even the people inside this house believed Cassidy’s lies?A soft knock startled her.“Elara?” It was Lena’s voice, gentle but firm. “Come with me. Please.”Elara closed her eyes briefly, then opened the door.Lena’s relief was obvious in the way her smile bloomed. “There you are. I was starting to think you’d never come out.”Elara gave a weak shrug. “I wasn’t sure

The estate felt like a cage.For days, Elara had trained in the gymnasium, walked through the gardens, and written in her notebook with a cautious, growing sense of control. Now, the moment the news hit, the air itself seemed poisoned. Every corridor felt tighter, every shadow longer.She didn’t leave her room.The curtains stayed drawn, suffocating the daylight. The lamp on her desk was the only glow in the dim space, throwing soft pools of light against the pale walls. Her notebook sat open, pen resting across the page, but she couldn’t bring herself to write more than a line.The headlines haunted her instead. Fraud. Smuggler. Vincent’s pet. Each word carved into her mind like glass.She’d read them until her vision blurred. She couldn’t stop herself. Every click had been a wound. Every article repeated the same poison Cassidy had brewed. And the comments… they were worse than the lies.“She fooled everyone.” “Knew she was too quiet, too perfect.” “Trash wearing a borrowed crown.

The mansion never slept, not anymore. Where once there had been the rhythm of power—businessmen arriving in the evenings, politicians leaving before dawn, soldiers laughing in the courtyards—now there was only tension. Guards paced in pairs, lieutenants whispered in alcoves, and everywhere, Kane’s shadow stretched long.Marcus could feel it in the walls. The empire was sick, but the disease wasn’t Ethan Cross. It was Kane’s paranoia, spreading faster than any rival could.Kane Calls His CourtThe summons came before dawn. Men shuffled into the war room, boots echoing on marble, rifles slung but unnecessary—nobody dared draw a weapon in Kane’s presence unless ordered.The war room itself felt more like a throne chamber. A long mahogany table stretched toward the far wall where massive windows overlooked the city. The blinds were half-drawn, allowing slits of gray morning light to cut through smoke that hung heavy in the air.Kane stood at the head of the table, sleeves rolled up, eyes

The mansion was awake long past midnight. Lights burned in every corridor, men moved with clipped steps, and the sharp scent of gun oil lingered in the air. The failed raid on the East District courier nest had left Kane furious, and when Kane didn’t sleep, nobody dared rest.Marcus moved through the halls with the squad, his boots echoing against marble that felt colder than usual. He could feel it in the air—like the pressure before a storm. The men whispered less, their eyes darted more. Kane’s wrath was everywhere, even when he wasn’t in the room.Summons to the ThroneThe summons came at dawn.Rourke, shoulders hunched and face pale, appeared in the corridor. “Kane wants you. Now.”Marcus said nothing, just nodded, though his pulse quickened. He followed Rourke into the war room, where the air was thick with smoke. Kane sat at the head of the long table, his chair turned slightly so the morning light fell across his scarred cheek.The table itself was scattered with maps, dossier

The East District was never truly dark. Even at midnight, the streets glowed with the lurid pinks and blues of neon signs advertising noodle stalls, nightclubs, and cheap motels. Steam rose from sewer grates, mixing with the tang of frying oil and exhaust fumes. To most of the city, this was just another restless night. To Gamma Team, it was a test of loyalty, faith, and survival.The Convoy Rolls InFive SUVs rolled through the narrow lanes, tires splashing through shallow puddles. Their matte-black paint drank in the neon light, turning them into moving shadows.Marcus rode shotgun in the lead car, his rifle across his knees, jaw set tight. His reflection stared back at him from the rain-streaked window—a face hardened by years under Kane, yet marked tonight by something more dangerous: doubt.The men in the back seat argued in low voices.“Light envelopes again,” one muttered bitterly. “Three hundred short this time. Don’t tell me that’s an accident.”“Shut up,” his partner hissed.

The city’s pulse was different now. Word of the failed warehouse raid had already leaked into the alleys and bars, and Kane’s men—once unshakable in their loyalty—began to whisper. Ethan’s strategy of choking the payroll was biting harder than bullets.Kane’s Squads: Hungry WolvesIn a cramped tenement in East District, Gamma Team huddled around a scarred wooden table. Empty beer bottles clinked as someone shoved them aside. The envelopes Kane had promised were there, but thinner than ever.“Three hundred short,” one of them muttered, shaking his head. “That’s not a mistake. That’s Kane skimming us.”“Shut your mouth,” another growled, though his eyes flicked nervously toward the door. “You want him to hear you?”But the first man pressed on. “We bleed for him, and this is what we get? Meanwhile, Cross’s people—they say his couriers never miss a payday. Never.”A silence fell. No one dared say it aloud, but the thought hung there like smoke: Maybe Kane wasn’t invincible anymore.Marcu

The rain weakened to a mist by dawn, leaving the docks slick and silver. Sirens never came. No uniforms asked questions. The city pretended not to notice—like it always did when devils and upstarts drew lines in the dark.Kane Veylor noticed.Kane: Raising the Black FlagThe mansion’s war room smelled of damp wool and burnt tobacco, a sour perfume of defeat and defiance. Kane stood at the head of the long table, coat still wet from the night, water ticking from the hem onto the marble. His lieutenants ringed the room, faces pallid with exhaustion and fear.Four stretchers sat against the far wall, men groaning under bloodied bandages. Not dead—embarrassed. Kane preferred humiliation as a prelude to discipline. It allowed fear to marinate.Rourke tried to speak first. “Boss—”“Quiet,” Kane said without looking at him.Silence folded over the room. Kane set his palms on the table and leaned in, knuckles whitening. “He lured us. Me. He cut our lights. He fried our comms. He took my men a

The rain came heavy to the docks that night, drumming on corrugated roofs and trickling in steady streams down rusted gutters. The air was thick with the tang of oil, salt, and electricity from half-dead floodlights flickering over the harbor. The Grayline Warehouse, a squat rectangle of steel and concrete, crouched on the far edge of the yard like a sleeping animal.Inside, Ethan stood in silence, his eyes on the shifting holographic map projected by the System. The outlines of Kane’s convoy were already forming—five black SUVs crawling through the city grid like predators on the hunt.[Warning: Enemy convoy ETA 04:13 minutes. Composition: 5 SUVs, estimated 20–22 armed personnel. Primary target: Kane Veylor present.]The words scrolled across Ethan’s vision, steady and unflinching. He exhaled through his nose. “He’s coming himself,” he murmured.Leah sat at a console behind him, fingers tense on the keys. “That’s not like him, Ethan. He never exposes himself unless—”“Unless he wants

Oliver stood outside of his kitchen at the backyard with his bags, watching Derek's helicopter land on his helipad. While the rotors are still spinning, the door opened and out walked Derek and Charles, heading towards Oliver's direction."Hey, Oliver. Are you ready to leave for Townsville?" asked Derek as he hugged Oliver.Oliver nodded after hugging both Derek and Charles, "As ready as I will ever be, my brothers. I trust the decoy is on its way to the airspace of Metro City Airport." he asked.Charles replied promptly, "It should be there in about an hour. My wife, Esther just launched it from the Phoenix Bunker.""Awesome. That should get that jackass Kurt Marshall off our backs." said Oliver. "I look forward to meeting everyone in Townsville."Derek smiled as he replied, "We are all awaiting your return. Let's get going." Derek and Charles helped Oliver with his bags and all three of them proceeded to enter Derek's helicopter, departing for Townsville.As Derek's helicopter took

Don Krauser stood up from his desk and sat with his Kartel at the big lounge sofa. It was time to share with them his plans for strengthening his team for Oliver's benefit, as well as theirs."Everybody had given some good suggestions. I have given them some serious thoughts. So, here's my plan." began Don Krauser."Jonas, as much as I would love to expand to Townsville, that is still Don Charles's turf. The last thing we need is to offend him in any way, shape or form, especially since his Phoenix Mafia as helped us in a big way.""Instead, use the remaining days before we leave to scout a good place to build an underground bunker, similar to that of the Phoenix Bunker in Townsville. Once you have done so, contact Lily Cooper and seal up the area so that construction can begin.""Gordan, Latisha, Ethan, while I am away, ensure nothing goes wrong with the construction of our bunker. Nikolai, hold the fort down here, just in case those Connors stir up trouble.""Now, speaking of the bu

"There you are. You have some explanation to do." said Lacy as she entered Christina's office. She saw that Christina was still in the same dress as she wore the night before. "What do you mean by explanation?" asked Christina, oblivious to what Lacy said.Lacy took her seat opposite Christina, "Alfred told us that you went out last night and you never came back. Where did you go dressed like that?" she asked pointing at Christina's dress.Christina stopped what she was doing when Lacy asked her that question. She looked up to Lacy nonchalantly and answered her. "I told Alfred that I was out on a dinner date. Let's just say... that date went better than expected." she said with a small smile.Lacy's mouth gaped open when she heard Christina's reply. "Woah! You stayed over with that date of yours? Who's the hot bod? Care to introduce him to the family?" she squealed like a little gossip girl to Christina."Haha... look at you, acting like a schoolgirl. You have a boyfriend, remember?

Carson reported, "Last night, I saw a woman wearing a mask, looking like Christina Connors enter my hotel, heading towards the Presidential Suite. My suspicions were confirmed this morning. I saw Christina leave the hotel without her mask."Lorraine was perplexed by Carson's report. What did his report on Christina have anything to do with Oliver?"Carson, I fail to understand why you would want to report that to me? What does that have to do with QS Holdings?" asked Lorraine."Well, everything. Shortly after she left, I saw Mr. Reed leave the Presidential Suite as well. In fact, last night, before I saw Christina enter, I saw Mr. Reed heading to the Presidential Suite too." replied Carson.Lorraine's eyes opened wide when she heard Carson's reply. "Where's Oliver now?" she asked suspiciously. "No idea, Ms. Lorraine. I had a few VIP guests to tend to so I didn't track him." answered Carson."Lorraine! Oliver is back!" Mitchell shouted from the dining room, distracting Lorraine. "Got i

Their clothes were on the floor, in a mess. So were their hair. They were catching their breaths as they held each other close, naked underneath the sheets."You know... technically, we are divorced. So, tell me, you naughty boy, have you been seeing other girls?" Christina smiled as she asked Oliver."Of course not. What, would you be a jealous divorcee if I did? Heh heh." laughed Oliver."Hey. That's so mean. Do you know how hard it was for me to badmouth you that night? Haha." laughed Christina as she rested her head on Oliver's shoulder."So, what have you been up to while I'm not around?" asked Oliver cheekily. "Oh, you know... the usual handling of the crap from my family. Heh heh." replied Christina."On a more serious note, though. These last few weeks have been really crazy. Your family has been trying to take me down; but to no avail." said Oliver."Yeah, about that. What really happened to you, dear?" asked Christina, hoping to get the truth from Oliver. "I've been listenin

The next day, it was business as usual for the Connors Conglomerate. Christina was in her office dealing with her work; but unlike her usual self, Christina was preoccupied.She could not shake off the gravitas of the text messages that she received the night before. No matter how she tried, she could not decipher or discover any hidden meanings behind the texts.'All I know is that I'll be meeting this person soon enough. I will have a lot of questions to ask when we do.' thought Christina.*Knock knock*"Hey sis, you have a minute?" asked Lacy as she popped her head in. "Yeah sure; but I don't have a lot of time. Come in." replied Christina."Look, sis..." Lacy began as she took her seat opposite Christina. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you that Alfonso Oliviera was your plus one for QS Holding's event. I wanted to surprise you; but Darren had to screw things up."Christina replied, "Look, that does not matter now. Do me a favour. Don't arrange anymore plus ones for me. I rather go to th

Hi Readers, After nearly a year, Who's the Loser Now is finally complete. I hope you enjoyed reading the original and the sequel as much as I have creating the storylines. Man, this was a long journey. There were so many ways to close this series; but I didn't want to get distracted. So, I decided to end it the series in this manner. I will be taking a short break to celebrate the new year. After which, I will start work on a new novel. So, until then, thank you all so much for your support on Who's the Loser Now. Keep the likes, comments and ratings coming to help promote this novel. Your feedback, as always, is much appreciated. It has been a wonderful journey and this one ends here. Stay tuned for the next journey. Altogether, everyone! (With the characters in the background) Happy New Year!! Love, JDHWS

The cameras were flashing as journalists and reporters gathered at the eagerly anticipated launch of the new mall in Townsville, specifically located near the Townsville Hillside Condo. Standing in front of the main entrance, Desmond and Jocelyn faced the crowd. Desmond then took the mic to address the crowd, "After months of construction, through reported ups and downs, we are happy to announce, on behalf of the Quinton Consortium, the officially opening of Townsville Hillside Mall." said Desmond. He then took his side next to Jocelyn and proceeded to perform the cutting of the ribbon, signalling that the Townsville Hillside Mall was officially opened. Applause rang all around the front as Desmond and Jocelyn opened the front entrance doors, welcoming the crowd into the mall. In another corner of Townsville, Wayne and Kimberly were also dressed sharply; but for a different reason. Joining them were Roland and Elaine Russo, as all four of them stood in front of the main entrance t

"Brother Derek, are you sure about this?" asked Charles as he looked at himself in the mirror. He was wearing a tuxedo; but not any ordinary tuxedo. Derek had Charles wear his diamond encrusted tuxedo, the most expensive tuxedo he bought from Nick Lopez when he first found out he was a Quinton. "I'm sure about it, Charles. I know I bought it for me initially; but in all honesty, you wearing this tux means so much more." Derek reassured Charles. "Man, I'm nervous. Brother, how did you even go through your wedding with Ms. Amanda?" asked Charles exasperately. "Desmond told me to take a deep breath to calm my nerves. It could work for you, too." replied Derek. Charles decided to take Derek's advice and took two deep breaths. Surprisingly, he felt much calmer. Then he and Derek heard a knock on the door. In walked Mason, "Brother, are you ready?" asked Mason. "As ready as I'll ever be." replied Charles. All three of them then walked upstairs... to the top deck of Charles's superyach

The prison gate key entered the lock. With a click, the warden opened the cell gate, with mixed emotions. "Madam Louise... it's time." In her cell, Madam Louise looked around the jail cell she had been living in, serving her time for her past wrongs. She thought about the time she spent in the cell, forming a close friendship with the warden, being released early to help Team Quinton and the Phoenix Mafia, eventually being a key player in the fight against Pamela. It was a sad day to leave her family after the fight ended; but heading back to prison was necessary. Thanks to Lea Quinton, however, she did not have to stay in prison any longer. She received a pardon from the Mayor of Townsville; and now, she can leave the Townsville prison freely. She slowly stood up and walked towards the cell door, where she noticed her warden friend had a tear in his eye. Smiling slightly, she wiped the tear away from his eye. "No need to weep for me, young man. We will meet again, outside of t

With the mask worn on his face; and the briefcase full of cash repacked into a duffel bag found in the control room, Charles slung the bag over his shoulder, ready to move out of Pamela's HQ. Before heading out, Charles made sure to surround himself in a nanoshield sphere to avoid any sudden sneak attacks. After which, Charles used his upgraded suit to do a thorough scan, looking to devise an alternate way out of Pamela's HQ. 'Hmmm... it looks like I'm going to have to blast my way out of here. Time to check out what weapons are at my disposal.' Charles thought to himself. Scanning the system in his suit through his mask, Charles was surprised to find various forms of weaponry to pave his way out. "Well then, let's get started." Charles said to himself. However, as we was about to step out of Pamela's control room, an alarm sounded inside of the control room. Red emergency lights were flickering in the control room. Charles turned his direction to one of the screens in the control

"Gerard! Andrea! You certainly have some guts showing your faces here after you betrayed me!" Pamela sneered at the couple. "Lady Boss... wait! We did not betray you." Gerard defended himself. "That's right, Lady Boss! The hostages... they escaped!!" shouted Andrea. "WHAT?!?!?" Pamela shouted angrily. She then turned her attention to Charles, who was standing there, perplexed. "Charles!! You were at the dungeon earlier. You said you saw your team in their cells. Is that true?!?" Pamela asked authoritatively. "Absolutely, Lady Boss. I personally locked up the dungeon after making sure that loser Derek was in his cell." replied Charles. "He's lying, Lady Boss. Charles must still be working with his friends. Somehow, they managed to get their suits from the lab and escape from this place." Gerard said accusingly, pointing at Charles at the same time. "Hold on there, Gerard. Up until just now, when Lady Boss showed me her lab, I did not even know that existed." Charles defended hims