Novel & Cerita After I Died A Tycoon Went Crazy

"What are you doing?" Dad looked at Mom in disbelief. But Mom only let out a cold laugh, no hesitation in her eyes as she plunged the syringe deep into Denise's back and yanked it out just as swiftly. Watching Denise grimace and wince in pain, Dad's face instantly turned crimson with fury. "Nicole, have you lost your mind? Do you even realize what you've done?" His voice cracked. Mom let out a bitter, tearful laugh. "Yes, I've lost my mind. I lost it the day Mary died."

Karly glanced sideways at Woody and confidently declared, "As long as I'm backing you, no one would dare to mess with you! "I refuse to believe it. In front of so many people, he wouldn't dare kill you unless he's also lost his will to live." Before he could finish speaking, Woody extended a finger and pointed at Tyrell. "No..." Tyrell was shocked and utterly terrified, letting out a cry of despair. It was already late! Boom! Tyrell's head exploded like a watermelon. The shattered pieces of brain, along with bright red blood, burst and splattered all around. Karly was standing nearby and got splashed all over her face and body!

His palm on my back does nothing to soothe my fraying nerves. Tyler is dead. Tyler is dead. Tyler. He is dead. Dead. Oh God. Oh God. This is bad. This is worse than if he showed up to kidnap me again. I will actually take that over this. Oh God. How can he be dead? Dead? Just like that.

Emily wanted to make sense of what was happening but a lot seemed to be going on all the once. “You would divorce me over my shares?” if his desperation wasn’t so sad, she would be laughing. One moment she was looking at Owen staring daggers as her, she heard what he was saying. The only thing she wanted to do was to get some fresh air and find a bigger pitcher of water to quench her thirst. She pushed her chair back to stand and go out but instead she collided with a tray carrying hot coffee, that spilled all over her chest. She staggered backwards feeling her chest burn, her head spinning.

Whoever won would be appointed as the next helmsman. "The assignment was to be completed in another country. Things went bad as Tyler died in a horrifying accident shortly after. Ethan had won him, and after landing back from the country, he angrily went to a club, got drunk, and out of lack of control on himself drove his car off a cliff. "He died on the spot and was buried. However, my father made mention that they were not allowed to see his corpse. That is all my father said. This man is definitely a liar! He can't possibly be Tyler."

This wasn't happening—Tyler was supposed to be the male lead. He was supposed to defeat the forces of evil, why was he dead? My mind was in a dark pit of confusion, it only took the cold feel of blood splashing on my skin to put me back to my senses. “Player 78, 90, 67, 64, and 88, are dead," the system announced. A cold chill ran across my body as I glanced upon the ground, now covered with huge chunks of human flesh and blood. Immediately, I felt sick to my stomach, and without a moment of hesitation I slumped to my knees, puking my guts out.

A small plan started to form in my mind but I needed to gather as much knowledge as I could. “Who is he, truly?” I turned to face my grinning father and for a moment he seemed to enjoy Declan’s misery so much that he forgot his hatred for me. “Robert’s bastard son. He’s made a name for himself in Italy, Spain, Paris and South America. They call him The Tycoon of Rome. He’s quite brilliant.”

"That tells me all I need to know. The mate bond breaking was for the best!" He lifted the gold case meaningfully. "Now I'm here to have their names struck from the records. Even in death, you'll have no claim on their souls." The council guards watched with interest. Such drama rarely played out in their halls. Liam stumbled back as if struck. "What... what do you mean ashes? Who died?" The confusion in his voice only fueled my father's contempt. "You really don't know?" he asked quietly. "Your own mate and pup died, and you didn't even notice?"

His fingers brushing my neck. The way the entire world had seemed to disappear until there had been nothing but us. I closed my eyes briefly. It hadn’t meant anything. It couldn’t have. People who had spent an entire day fighting to save a company didn’t always behave rationally afterward. Relief did strange things. Exhaustion did stranger things. Killian had spent forty-eight hours watching his empire teeter on the edge of a regulatory abyss; he was exhausted, emotionally vulnerable, and suddenly handed a lifeline by the last person in the building he’d have expected.

The once-powerful head of the Harrington empire died in that tiny apartment, wearing the same clothes he'd worn the day they first met, clutching a torn marriage certificate to his chest. The young reporter, who'd been up all night editing footage for her senior thesis, was about to take a break. She picked up her phone and saw it immediately—Dominic's suicide was trending everywhere. She clicked the article and recognized him at once: the man from the cemetery that morning. After my burial, a guide from the other side led me away and I joined the long line of souls waiting for reincarnation. But then I heard a voice behind me—Dominic's voice.