บททั้งหมดของ THE PRICE FOR HIS NAME : บทที่ 111 - บทที่ 120

Nine years ago, Mikael vanished. So did the H²O engine. Not a trace of either since. But Gina—Gina must have known something. That day, she had removed a core part of the engine.That core part was now buried in the place where Gina Frazer was supposed to lay.Supposed to.Nine years later, they still hadn't found the engine. Or Mikael.Luca was still looking, but not actively. The past had a way of staying silent until it wasn't, and for now, SpitFire Technologies moved forward as if nothing had ever happened. The company was bigger, stronger. Luca ruled it with the same ruthless precision as always.Maria was still here-still his partner in every way that mattered-but now, her kingdom was built from power suits and couture, not cold steel and code. As Chief Human Resources Officer of SpitFire, she held her own, but most of her focus had shifted to A√ancii, her fashion empire. It was an understanding between

One would think the danger was over. One would assume that Maria and Luca Avancii could finally settle into a peaceful, happily-ever-after after everything they had endured. But fate had other plans. Fate was never that kind—not to them, and certainly not to their son. If only they knew. If only they knew that the moment they sent Fiero Avancii to Thornecrest Academy, they weren’t just sending him to a school. They were sending him straight into the fire. Because whatever wars they had fought in the past, whatever enemies they had defeated? None of it compared to what was coming. Thornecrest Academy was more than just a school—it was an empire, hidden away in plain sight. Tucked deep within rolling greenery, far from the noise of any city, it stood like a fortress, the embodiment of wealth, power, and untouchable prestige. It was a place where futures were forged, where the elite sent their children not just to be educated, but to be sharpened, honed, and molded into so

The hallway stretched long and empty as they walked in perfect rhythm, their footsteps echoing softly against the polished marble floors.Their destination?Class Six. It was at the far end of the building, tucked away like a secret. The moment they reached the door, Miriam’s nose scrunched in mild distaste.“Why does this feel like we’re about to enter a haunted crypt?” she muttered, a frown tugging at her lips.Mika smirked, her tone sharp. “Because we probably are. Have you seen this place?”Fiero, standing closest to the door, pushed it open without hesitation, his hand brushing against the cool metal handle.The moment they stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted.Dark wooden shelves lined the walls, each crammed with thick, ancient books, their worn spines hinting at knowledge long forgotten or deliberately concealed. The low hum of the dim lights flickered, casting long, eerie shadows that seeme

The night had been peaceful—until it wasn’t.After a satisfying meal at the dining hall, they returned to their common room on the fourth floor of the dorms.The room was cozy, dimly lit by warm-toned lamps and the soft glow of a crackling fireplace. The boys' rooms were to the left, the girls' to the right, but they always gathered here before bed, unwinding from the day’s events.Joy was comfortably perched in Fiero’s lap, her back against his chest as she talked animatedly with Mika, who sat cross-legged on the couch with a book in hand. The scent of old pages and lavender lingered in the air. Miriam leaned in, completely engrossed in whatever Mika was saying, her glasses slipping down her nose, the dim firelight catching the gleam of her thoughtful expression.Across the room, Moses and Samuel were deep in conversation, their quiet voices blending into the background. Fiero half-listened, his attention divided as he nuzzled

7:00 PM.Detention?What detention?The room was dimly lit, bathed in the sterile, flickering glow of overhead lights that buzzed faintly like an insect caught behind glass. The walls, once white, were now yellowed with time and apathy. Desks were shoved to the sides in a haphazard mess, as if any attempt at order had been long abandoned.No teacher in sight. No authority. Just chaos—resting on tired furniture and cracked linoleum floors.If anyone had checked on them, they would’ve found nothing remotely resembling remorse. Or discipline. Or even structure.Instead—Moses was slouched in his chair like he’d melted into it, head tilted back at an unnatural angle, earbuds jammed in tight. His hood was up, eyes closed, mouth slightly open. The music in his ears was so loud that the bass trembled through the air, shaking Joy’s boots all the way across the room. Every few seconds, he’d twitch—whether from