Masuk**Shawn's POV** I sprint toward Stella before my brain even registers the decision, my heart hammering so hard it feels like it might burst through my ribs. Please let her be alive. Behind me, Konstantin's voice rings out, cold and commanding. "Drop your weapons! All of you! Your boss is finished!" The sound of guns clattering to the ground. Hank's guards surrendering. But I don't care about any of that. All I care about is the spreading pool of blood, and the fact that I can't tell whose blood it is. I drop to my knees beside them, my hands already reaching for Stella. She's on top of Hank, their bodies tangled from the fall. Blood soaks through her fighting gear, dark and wet. I roll her off him carefully, my hands shaking. Her eyes flutter open. Oh, thank goddess she's alive. Relief hits me so hard I almost collapse. She's pale, gasping, clearly in pain, but her eyes are focused on my face. "Shawn?" Her voice is barely a whisper. "Did you... did you shoot me
**Shawn's POV** But I'm already moving, vaulting over the railing toward the arena floor. I hit the ground running, heading straight for the cage. "THAT'S SHAWN BLACK! SOMEONE GRAB THE OMEGA!" Hank's voice cuts through the chaos. "NOW!" Three guards break from their positions, sprinting toward the cage from different angles. I reach the chain-link fence first, grabbing the locked door and tearing it open with supernatural strength. But before I can step inside, the guards converge on Stella. One yanks her up by her hair. Another wraps his arm around her throat. The third presses a knife to her throat. "Back off!" the one with the knife snarls. "Back off or I open her throat!" I freeze, gun raised but useless. Three targets, all surrounding her. One wrong move and she's dead. Stella whimpers, barely conscious, her unfocused eyes trying to find me through the pain and fear. "That's right." Hank's voice echoes through the arena as he emerges from the shadows, flanke
** Shawn's POV** Hank's underground arena is exactly as horrible as I imagined. We enter through the main access tunnel, a concrete passage that slopes downward into the earth. Konstantin and I are dressed in tailored suits, expensive without being flashy. No need to play a role—we look exactly like the kind of men who would bankroll a place like this. Six of Konstantin's men accompany us, similarly dressed, playing the role of associates. The rest are positioned outside, ready to move when we give the signal. "Remember," I murmur to Konstantin as we approach the entrance. "We're just customers. Interested in the fights. Nothing more." "Da. I am excellent actor." His smile is all teeth. A guard stops us at the door—one of Hank's men, armed and suspicious. "Invitation?" he grunts. "We're associates of Sokolov," Konstantin says smoothly, dropping a name I recognize—one of Hank's regular high-rollers. "He told us about today's special event. Said there is a new fighter
Happy New Year, my beautiful readers 💖I hope this year finds you healthy, happy, and thriving. Thank you so much for the love and support you’ve shown this book—it truly means the world to me.If you’re enjoying the story, I’d really appreciate it if you could vote with gems and leave a comment on the main page, sharing what you think about the book so far. Your thoughts, reactions, and feedback not only motivate me but also help the story gain more exposure and reach new readers.Every vote and comment makes a difference, and I’m so grateful for each one of you.Thank you in advance, and sending you lots of love 😘
**Shawn's POV** The secret location Konstantin wanted me to meet him alone is an abandoned textile factory that sits on the edge of nowhere—exactly where rogues like Konstantin prefer to conduct business. No witnesses. No cameras. Just rusted metal and broken dreams. I pull my SUV into the gravel lot and kill the engine. Through the windshield, I count at least fifty vehicles. Maybe more hidden behind the main building. Konstantin didn't come alone. He brought an army. That's good because we're going to need one to take down Hank and his men. I check my watch: 11:07 AM. Less than three hours until Stella needs to pick up her son. The air bites cold as I step out of the SUV. January in the city is unforgiving—gray skies, wind that cuts through leather, the kind of weather that makes you want to stay in bed. But I haven't slept since I got the call about Stella. I move toward the east entrance, my boots crunching on broken glass. The factory door hangs crooked on its hin
**Stella's POV** "Prove it," Hank demands, his eyes boring into mine with sharp calculation. I swallow hard, my mind racing. "Call Ace Industries. The main corporate line. Anyone there can confirm—" "You don't know your own father's personal number?" Hank's eyebrow arches, amusement creeping back into his voice. "How convenient." Heat floods my face. "That is because I don't exactly have a normal father-daughter relationship where I have him on speed dial." "How tragic." Hank's tone drips with mockery. "So let me get this straight—you claim to be the daughter of one of the most powerful rogues in the city, but you can't prove it beyond asking me to call a public corporate number?" "Yes." I force the word out with more confidence than I feel. "Call them. Ask for Victor Ace. Tell them you have Stella Matthews. He'll know exactly who I am." Hank studies me for a long moment, clearly weighing whether this is worth his time or an elaborate delusion from a desperate captive. "Fine.







