บททั้งหมดของ The Blackwell Claim: บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 7

The air in the penthouse office of Saati Town tasted like expensive scotch and unwashed ego. Samon Lity slammed his fist onto the mahogany desk, the force rattling the crystal decanters."I want him alive!" Lity roared. "The boy stays breathing, or nobody gets paid."Kan Nelblack didn't blink. He just leaned back in the leather chair, watching the vein throb in the older man’s forehead. Beside him, Gideon Blackwell shifted, the movement subtle but lethal. Lity was a heavyweight in the New Orleans underworld, a man who thought money bought immunity from the consequences of being a prick. He was wrong.Gideon tossed the thin manila folder back onto the desk. "What’s your stake in him, Samon? You don't hire the best trackers in the South for a simple debt collection."Kan pulled a single black-and-white photo from the file before it slid away. It was a grainy shot of a young man—slender, sharp-jawed, with dark eyes that seemed to be looking right through the lens.Timothy Gal. No last na

Gideon swigged vodka straight from a glass bottle he’d raided from the hotel mini-bar, the burn in his throat grounding him. He kicked the balcony doors open. The New Orleans humidity clung to his skin like a wet shroud, thick with the stench of Saati Town—garbage, exhaust, and the copper tang of blood from a dozen street fights happening blocks away. Below, the Sopttyi District was a cesspool of tourists and bottom-feeders, all grinding against each other like rats in a cage.He hated this place. The congestion made his skin itch. He was a tracker, a man used to the wide-open shadows of the bayou, not this neon-lit tomb. But the contract was the contract. Or it had been, until they’d told Samon Lity to go fuck himself.Timothy Gal. The name tasted like metal in his mouth. In the bar, the kid hadn't even flinched when Lity’s name came up. Zero recognition. That made Lity a liar. The "Siren" of the Nash Rebellion wasn't just some thief who’d seduced a mobster’s son; he was something el

Timothy leaned into the grime of the brick alleyway, his lungs working like bellows. He’d seen plenty of transactional filth in Saati Town—desperate hacks, cold-blooded kills, and street-level hookers—but this was different. This was raw. It was high-stakes.The man on the balcony, Kan Nelblack, didn't just have the eyes of a predator; he had the focus of a sniper. Kan turned his head, silver-grey eyes cutting through the darkness of the street to the exact shadow where Timothy stood. The man didn’t flinch. He didn't call for the Enforcers. He just swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, blew a mocking kiss, and then clamped his hand on the back of Gideon’s head, forcing the shifter deeper onto his length.Timothy tried to swallow, but his throat had turned to sandpaper. Air felt like lead in his chest. Eleanor Nash was back at the rebellion headquarters counting on him to find the leak, and here he was, rooted to the spot, watching two high-level Blackwell associates claim each othe

Kan shoved Timothy back against the same marble mausoleum where the street trash had just expired. He didn't give him room to breathe. He leaned in, the cold scent of the cemetery mixing with the metallic tang of fresh blood on Kan's lips. Timothy didn't flinch. He glared, his jaw set, lavender eyes defiant. A slow, mocking curve touched Kan’s mouth."Get your hands off me," Timothy rasped."No.""I'll put a bullet in your head, Nelblack.""You're welcome to try, ghost." Kan lifted a hand, a single finger tracing the line of Timothy's shoulder, dragging down to the pulse point at his wrist. "I’ve survived better men than you. It won't be that easy to put me down."Timothy’s skin hummed where Kan touched him. It felt like a low-voltage current. Kan stepped back suddenly, adjusting his top hat with a flick of his wrist."What’s with the hat?" Timothy asked, his voice steadying.Kan flashed a sharp, boyish grin. "It’s a statement.""And what’s it saying? That you’re a circus act?""It sa