جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 60

“He’s… he’s like the God of War,” a woman in a sapphire gown whispered, her voice trembling as she clutched her companion’s arm, her rings digging into his sleeve. “No, like the invisible kings of war—untouchable, unstoppable,” another stammered, his cane shaking in his grip. Nero dismantled the third bouncer with a fist to the jaw, the impact ringing like a gunshot. The fourth was hurled across the hall, his body slamming into a pillar with a force that sent a spiderweb of cracks through the marble. “No one fights like that,” a man hissed, his face drained of color, his hand trembling as he loosened his cravat. “He survived the Purgatory—this isn’t human.”Nero’s strength was a spectacle, each move a defiance of the death sentence that should have claimed him. The crowd’s scorn wavered, replaced by a mix of fear and fascination. They had branded him a rapist, a murderer, a pariah exiled by their righteous judgment. Yet the man before them was a titan, a warrior carved from myth. An o

Just then a sturdy figure burst into the grand aurreum hall, his boots echoing against the cracked marble floor. Jason, Nero’s adjutant general, his face etched with urgency, weaved through the frozen crowd of silk-clad elites. His eyes, wide with anxiety, locked onto Nero, who stood like a dark god amidst the chaos, his weathered jacket a stark contrast to the glittering chandeliers above. Jason leaned close, his breath quick, whispering, “General, the lady you asked me to investigate… something has happened to her.”Nero’s face shifted, the cold steel in his eyes softening for a fleeting moment, a crack in his unyielding facade. His jaw tightened, and his gaze flicked back to Otumba Magnus, seated on his throne-like chair, his presence a shadow over the hall. Nero strode forward, each step deliberate, his boots clicking like a metronome of doom. The crowd parted, their goblets trembling in jeweled hands, their breaths held as if the air itself feared him.His voice was a low growl,

Meanwhile, in the city’s highest hill, cloaked in dense trees and tangled vines, cradled an enclave of obscene wealth. Mansions sprawled like slumbering giants, their marble facades glinting under moonlight, affordable only to the 0.0001%—the barons, presidents, tycoons, and the untouchable elite. In one such fortress of opulence, a black SUV roared through iron gates, tires crunching gravel as it skidded into a sprawling parking lot. Headlights flickered off, and four men spilled out, their movements sharp and synchronized. Each wore black suits, crisp and tailored, crowned with a red beret tilted to the right. Pinned to the front-left of each beret, a gleaming insignia caught the light: eight crossed hammers and axes forming a wheel, the “Eight Legs of Odin,” etched with Norse runes that whispered of strength and vigilance. The badge, gold-plated and heavy, was no mere decoration—it marked them as soldiers of the Supreme Vikings Confraternity, a shadowy brotherhood ruled by the city

The boys’ voices pierced the air, trembling but clear. “They took our sister upstairs to the old man’s chamber. He ordered them to tie her to his bed.” The words hit Nero like a blade to the chest, his mind reeling with the grotesque implications. His fists clenched, knuckles whitening, as a storm brewed in his dark eyes. Silas Marwood, the vile loan shark, was planning something unspeakable.Victor, the captain of the Supreme Vikings Confraternity, stood defiant despite the blood pooling around his fallen men. His red beret, adorned with the gold-plated “Eight Legs of Odin,” tilted slightly as he barked, “I’m the seventh captain of the Supreme Vikings, co-founded by Baron Cassian! Lay a hand on me, and your entire family, your generation, everything you hold dear will be obliterated!” His voice quivered, betraying his fear, though he masked it with indignation. The name Baron Cassian, a titan whose mere mention made men kneel, had always been his shield. It worked every time—until no

Samantha’s heart pounded as she clutched her triplets, their small bodies trembling against her on the dusty road outside the police station. The military G-Wagon loomed behind them, its gold insignia glinting under the streetlights, a stark reminder of the power she’d once been tied to. Seven years ago, her life had shattered. Magnus Otumba, the city’s undisputed king, had cast her out on their wedding night, his voice thundering, “Shameless slut!” He blamed her for Nero’s crime, her parents for offering her up to save their crumbling business. In a public spectacle, Magnus ensured their ruin—her father sentenced to prison for debts he couldn’t pay, her family stripped of everything. Each time she visited the prison, her father turned her away, his eyes burning with hatred. It was her fault, he believed, and the weight of his rejection crushed her.Now, in the Glades, her mother scraped by, selling food in a rundown restaurant, while she taught physics by day in a school with low wag