LOGINSearching for a tiny pin in an ocean is equivalent to a waste of time, so is trying to find out who Nicholas Jager Khaid is. A simple and jovial billionaire CEO during the day and a Ruthless and Stoic Mafia boss during the night, using girls like he uses perfumes and disposing of the can. When his path crossed with Dalia Bluey, a virgin who sells aphrodisiacs in a club, he wants more than just a night of use and disposal but unknown to him that she's just a weak girl acting tough to survive. One night of pleasure turns her to his addiction but as the heir of the Jager Family, he has responsibilities to shoulder and enemies to tackle. He has to choose between making her tough or being her shield. But what happens when he finds out that Bluey is the rejected daughter of his rival in another Mafia clan and that they now want her back? Or when he finds out that she is pregnant with his child? And when his father order for the erasing of his memories so he can focus on the family's legacy? Will his Satera swim an ocean to be with her Khaid? Does love really not live to be achieved?
View MoreNiche Group Of Companies At precisely twelve o'clock, the serenity of the main entrance was shattered by the snarling, high-performance engine of an Italian supercar. Like always, Anna Jager made a rather dramatic entrance, parking her customized Lamborghini Aventador diagonally across two reserved spaces, not paying attention to the valet staff scrambling to intervene.The Niche Group of Companies headquarters was a towering edifice of polished chrome and tinted glass, a monument to Khaid Jager's public legitimacy. A tight circle of security guards and junior associates near the main lobby entrance dissolved into hushed conversational admiration. Some were even drooling at some point.“Did you see that paint job? Crimson. Only Anna Jager would wear a suit the same color as a six-hundred thousand dollar car. She's unreal.”“Unreal is right. That swagger? She doesn't walk, she glides. And look at the way she treats the valet. Absolute zero patience. That's power.”“She’s the only reas
The Specter’s ChamberQye walked in calm, calculated steps towards a separate, heavily protected estate belonging to one of the few men who commanded enough respect and fear to host a simultaneous war council for both the Jager and MTP Clan.“Boss” Qye bowed in respect.The Specter was a retired giant of the old world, a legendary figure whose influence extended deep into the city's power structures, and who had often served as an unofficial mediator and occasionally, an executioner for the Mafia’s elite. He's an old man who still has the gay eyes of one who is still interested in war if war comes to him.His study was not opulent like Nepher Jager’s, but immense, lined entirely with dark, unpolished steel. He sat behind a massive, raw slab of obsidian, looking more like an immovable monument than a man. He was huge, his bulk straining the fabric of his dark suit.Jerry, MTP's trembling envoy, stood stiffly near the door, having delivered his message. Qye was already there, standing s
“Okay, Boss” she muttered, the sarcasm a quiet defense mechanism. Then her eyes widened upon realization. “I don't know where your room is!”The words were spoken into empty air. Khaid was already gone, his heavy footsteps retreating up the stairs. She looked down at the ceramic bottle of dark, aromatic liquid. She had just been granted access to the one area of the fortress no one, not a mistress, not even Agnes, based on the rigid protocols has ever breached. The Master Suite.Taking a deep breath, she picked up the bottle and left the kitchen. She navigated the Central Wing, following the general direction of his footsteps until she reached a set of double doors guarded by a discrete, flickering biometric scanner. This had to be it.She paused, looking at the door. Her hands were clean, the bottle warm, the intent purely medicinal. Yet, the act felt like an intrusion of the most profound kind. She pressed the faint intercom button.A moment later, Kael’s voice, flat and mechanical,
The bitch Khaid requested laid naked on her back on the bed in the tea room. The tea room is where he has sexual intercourse with the girls he carries. No girl has ever entered his room or laid on his bed. He brings them to this tea room. Khaid entered the room, raging. Ready to unleash the frustration and anger on him. “Stand up” He growled. The girl, who was wearing sexy lingerie, knelt on the bed, slowly. Her movements ooze pleasure and sultry appeal.“What do I do, Khaid?” She trailed her fingers across his chest. The next minute, Khaid's fist was wrapped tightly around her neck. Draining life out of her.“You're choking me”“It's Master to you. Don't you dare call my name with your filthy mouth” His eyes were a flashing red ready to explode.“Yes master” The girl nodded with tearful eyes.Khaid released his hold on her and she collapsed on the bed. Coughing and gasping for breaths. “Get on your knees, bitch” Khaid ordered. His voice laced with the authority that no was an opti
9PM The Void Club Khaid’s routine on a non-mission night was clockwork. At 9:00 PM, he would arrive at The Void Club, a venue he partially owned, using it as a discrete command center and social surveillance hub. This time, he didn't enter as the bubbly life of the party. He entered through a private service entrance, bypassing the main crowd, and went directly to his secluded booth overlooking the main floor. The club was a dizzying blend of flashing lights, expensive clientele, and heavy, pulsating electronic music.He settled in, the usual cold detachment settling over him as he surveyed the room. A king observing his temporary kingdom. Kael was positioned discreetly near the entrance. Khaid was mid-sentence, reviewing a market analysis Kael had handed him, when his eyes snagged on a figure near the VIP bar. The figure was small, navigating the crowd with a practiced ease, stopping at tables and leaning in to whisper conspiratorially. It was Bluey.She wasn't dressed in the pale
“Please, don't touch. Don't” A little boy, the age of twelve pleaded as a woman with a predatory smile climbed the bed he's kneeling on.“Common boy. You will enjoy it. These are what the big men are dying for” She smiled while moving closer to the boy.“No. . I don't want to. Let me go” the boy wailed. The boy was Khaid was drowning in the cold, thick water of a recurring nightmare. He was twelve again, thin and sharp-boned, trapped in the suffocating black of a room he couldn't escape. The scent of cloying, unfamiliar perfume was overpowering. Above him loomed a figure, a woman with a face he couldn't grasp, always obscured by shadow and malice.She was heavy. Suffocating. “You will never be strong enough, boy,” a voice hissed, not deep or rough, but smooth and cutting like polished glass. “If I can't have your father, then I can have you, right?” She laughed crazily and proceeded to take off his shorts.He struggled, his twelve-year-old limbs powerless against the pressure. His mi












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