Novels by aroh glory

The room was still, save for the heavy breaths of everyone present.The sound of breathing — sharp and erratic — seemed to reverberate against the walls, bouncing off the tense atmosphere that had settled like a thick fog.Ryan’s chest heaved with every breath, his fists still clenched at his sides.He was standing over Mason, his body rigid, his eyes wild with rage, but there was something else behind the anger.Fear.And the fear was growing, creeping beneath the surface like an insidious tide."Who’s behind this?" Ryan’s voice was a low growl, but there was a tremor to it now.A hesitation that hadn’t been there before. The calm, unshakable leader that he had always been was slipping, revealing the cracks in the facade. "You’re not going to get away with this, Mason. Not this time."But Mason only laughed. The sound was sharp, cruel, and mocking.A laugh that sliced through the tension, amplifying the feeling of dread in the room."You think you’ve got it all figured out?" Mason s

Claire’s heart dropped.Someone closer?The words echoed in her mind like a drumbeat, each thud growing louder, more insistent.She had been through so much. The violence, the betrayals, the bloodshed.But hearing this — the sharp, cold implication of it — was different. It felt like a punch to the gut, a strike to the very core of her being.Ryan’s hand, still clutching Mason’s collar, tightened with a force that seemed to rattle the very air around them.His face was a mask of rage, but Claire could see it—the briefest flicker in his eyes.A shadow.Fear.He wasn’t just angry. He was terrified.It wasn’t the same fury that had burned through him when Mason had first walked into the room.This was something deeper, something that went beyond simple hatred.Mason was watching them both with a smile that seemed to grow with each passing second, basking in the tension he had created.The air in the room grew thick, suffocating, like smoke from a fire that no one could put out.No one sp

The battle was far from over.Claire’s hand was still trembling as she lowered the gun, the weight of it foreign and heavy in her grip.Her heart hammered wildly against her ribs, each beat a painful reminder that she was still alive.The attacker she had shot lay sprawled at her feet, blood pooling beneath him, staining the pristine marble floor a deep, angry red.The sharp, metallic scent of gunpowder clung to the air, thick and suffocating.But Claire couldn’t focus on any of it.Not yet.Because something was wrong.Something was missing.---Ryan moved like a force of nature through the chaos, swift and brutal. His men—loyal, lethal—cleared the room with ruthless precision, every movement efficient, every shot deadly.The leader who had taunted them earlier now lay crumpled near the fireplace, a bullet hole in his chest.And yet... the gnawing sensation in Claire’s gut only grew.This wasn’t just a random attack.It wasn’t even a revenge strike.It was a message.Her eyes darted

Claire woke up the next morning, the remnants of a restless night clinging to her.The storm clouds still hung heavy in the sky, and there was no sign of the sun. It seemed fitting, considering the tension she felt, coiling tighter around her chest with every passing hour.She glanced over at Ryan, still sleeping soundly beside her.It was a rare sight.The lines on his face were softer now, his usual fierce demeanor replaced by a quiet vulnerability. For a moment, Claire just watched him, letting herself breathe a little easier. But the weight of their situation pressed down on her, pulling her thoughts back to reality. They didn’t have the luxury of peace for long.Her phone buzzed beside her on the nightstand.Claire’s heart stopped.It was a message from an unknown number.She reached for the phone, her fingers trembling as she unlocked the screen.The message was short, but the words hit her like a punch in the gut.> "You won’t see it coming. Be careful."Claire’s stomach flippe

The following morning felt colder than usual, even though the sun was out.Light streamed through the windows, painting long golden stripes across the floor, but it didn’t chase away the chill.Claire woke with a start, reaching instinctively for the warmth beside her.But Ryan’s side of the bed was empty.The sheets were cold, as if he’d been gone for hours.Panic gripped her chest like a vice.Had something happened overnight?Had he gone after those men alone?Throwing off the covers, she scrambled into a hoodie and leggings, her pulse racing painfully.She flew down the grand staircase, barefoot, heart hammering against her ribs.The estate was eerily silent.As if the walls themselves were holding their breath.---In the kitchen, Claire found Mrs. Dalca sitting at the long table, sipping coffee from a delicate porcelain cup.The older woman barely glanced up from the newspaper spread in front of her."Where’s Ryan?" Claire gasped, breathless from running.Without missing a beat,

Claire sat by the window that night, wrapped in a blanket Ryan had placed around her shoulders.The rain had softened to a drizzle, tapping softly against the glass.But inside her chest, a full storm still raged.Ryan sat across from her, watching her in silence, a glass of whiskey untouched in his hand.Neither of them spoke for a long time.Words felt too small for what they had been through.Finally, Claire broke the silence."Who were they?" she asked, her voice still hoarse from screaming earlier.Ryan leaned back, jaw tight."Enemies," he said simply.Claire let out a shaky breath."But why me? Why not come straight for you?"Ryan’s eyes darkened."Because they know how to hurt me."The confession sat between them, heavy and raw.Claire tightened the blanket around herself.For so long, she had thought she was just a pawn—an outsider trapped in a game too big for her.Now, it was terrifying to realize she mattered more than she thought.That she was the leverage.---Ryan stood