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First Blood at the Docks

last update 게시일: 2026-02-04 02:30:58

Chapter 20

Valencia’s POV

The night was a shroud of charcoal and salt. I lay prone on the rusted corrugated roof of a warehouse overlooking Pier 17, the cold metal biting through the fabric of my tactical suit.

The Neurolink hummed at the edge of my consciousness, sharpening the world into high-contrast edges. Every ripple in the black water of the harbor, every flicker of a distant streetlamp, was processed with surgical clarity.

In my hands, the McMillan TAC-338 felt like an extension of my
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    Chapter 59Valencia’s POVThe night air was a cold, stagnant weight, smelling of wet earth and the metallic tang of my own fear. I stood on that dead strip of tarmac, the ruins of my phone scattered at my feet like the fragments of my future. My daughter’s small hand was a trembling anchor in mine, and Maria was a statue of defeated steel beside me.Then there was Akeem.He stood bathed in the pale, sickly light of the moon, looking less like a bodyguard and more like a god of ruined things. The smug curve of his lips was a blade, twisting in the wound Silas had already opened."Stranded?" he asked again, his voice a low, melodic rumble that seemed to vibrate through the very soles of my feet.I didn't answer immediately. I shifted, moving Mia slightly behind the line of my hip, my fingers brushing the cold grip of the silenced pistol tucked into my waistband. I was a Titan. I was a monster. But standing on this empty runway, I felt like a ghost.Akeem took a step forward, his shadow

  • From Prison To Power: The Ex-Wife's Vengeance    Escape Gone Wrong!

    Chapter 58Valencia’s POVThe echoes of the decanter hitting Antonio’s temple still vibrated in my wrists as I ran. The air in the hallway felt thinner now, as if the manor itself were gasping for breath, dying along with the Rossi legacy. I didn't care. I didn't care about the gold leaf on the walls or the blood on the floor. I only cared about the heartbeat waiting for me at the end of the north wing.I burst into the nursery, my chest heaving. The room was bathed in the soft, amber glow of a nightlight, smelling of lavender and the innocent scent of childhood that I had fought so hard to reclaim."Valencia!" Mia scrambled up from her small desk, her eyes bright with a manic, creative energy. She looked like a tiny bird, fragile yet resilient. In her hands, she clutched a sheet of heavy parchment, the edges crinkled by her grip. "Look! I finished it!" she chirped, her voice a bell in the silence of the dying house. "I drew the fountain. The one where the water never stops. I used

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    Chapter 57Valencia’s POVThe kitchen was cold, but the fire in my blood was freezing. Maria didn’t ask questions; she didn’t need to. She simply nodded, the blade she was cleaning reflecting the sharp, merciless glint in her eyes. I didn't wait for her to pick up the burner phone. I was already moving.My heels were silent on the Persian rugs as I ascended the grand staircase. Every portrait of a Rossi ancestor seemed to sneer as I passed, their painted eyes tracking the woman who was about to erase their lineage from the face of the earth. I reached the heavy oak doors of the master suite. Two guards stood outside, but they straightened the moment they saw me. They had seen the "Last Supper." They had seen me bring the Syndicate to its knees. To them, I wasn't just Antonio’s fiancée anymore; I was the dark sun around which this entire crumbling solar system orbited."He’s resting," one of them whispered, his eyes downcast."He’s waiting for me," I countered, my voice a silk ribbon

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    Chapter 54Silas’s POVThe silence of Blackwood Manor was not peace. It was the pressurized stillness of a tomb before the resurrection.I sat in the command center, the only light provided by the wall of monitors that acted as my windows into the world I was systematically dismantling. My hand, wrapped in a linen bandage that was slowly turning a dark, rusty crimson, throbbed with every heartbeat. I didn't mind the pain. The pain was a tether. It reminded me that I was still anchored to the physical world while my mind was thousands of miles away, prowling through the hallways of a cursed estate in Italy.On the central screen, the feed from the Rossi Manor played in high-definition silence. I had watched her. I had watched my Valencia, my masterpiece, the woman I had forged in the dark and christened in the fire tear that house apart from the inside. I had watched her play the grieving mother, the devoted bride, and finally, the operatic victim. I had seen her break Antonio Rossi,

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    Chapter 25Valencia’s POVThe transformation was complete. I stood in the center of my suite, a vision of monochromatic death and high-fashion armor. The black gown was a masterpiece of structural silk, backless to the waist to reveal the scars Silas had worshipped with his mouth, and slit to the u

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    Chapter 17Valencia’s POVThe transition from the void back to reality was not a gentle drift; it was a violent, airless ascent. My lungs burned as if I had been submerged in the icy depths of the Blackwood bay, and my heart hammered against my ribs like a frantic prisoner.Thud-thud. Thud-thud.Th

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