Chapter Eugene Mga Nobela at Kwento

And he would make sure that he suffered as much as possible. ******** Eugene’s debts soared to astronomical heights. It was amusing how easily it played out. He kept tabs on Eugene, often popping up on him at unexpected times. Eugene plotted against his cousin. He wanted to take Reynolds Industries over and it use it as his own personal piggy bank. Eugene had some connections in Singapore from his time there, and it proved useful. However, when left to his own devices,Eugene proved to be a touch dramatic. “Hello, sir,” Eugene said over the phone, sounding too much like an overstuffed peacock. “I have something for you that I think you’ll like.”

Mica didn't understand what Eugene was trying to do, but in a solemn place like this ancestral church, Eugene probably couldn't do anything bad. She walked in, the lights in the room were on, candles were burning in front of the tablet, and the whole room was filled with the smell of sandalwood, clean and pleasant. Eugene placed a cushion under his knees, his phoenix eyes stared intently, covering his amber pupils, he lit incense to worship his ancestors. Hearing footsteps, Eugene solemnly bowed his head one last time. He stood up and turned to look at Mica standing at the door. He calmly smiled, his voice was very gentle: "Mica, do you remember the last time we met?"

At the far end stood what looked like a massive radio tower, compressed down to fit in the underground space. "This is it," I breathed. "This is where Eugene worked. Where he built the prototype." "Then let's find what we came for," Fabian said, but his voice was tight. "This place feels wrong." He was right. The air down here wasn't just cold, it was oppressive. Like the weight of centuries pressing down on us. Like we were standing in a tomb that didn't want visitors. I went straight for the section labeled Augustus-Gustav Research Archives. The shelves here were organized, almost obsessively so. Eugene had been meticulous in his record-keeping.

I still had no idea where the hell I was or what this place was. "Ahh, just in time," "Eugene, what treats do you have for us today?" Eugene opened the gate with two buckets in one hand. A chair with straps attached to the arms and legs in the other. He set down the chair and buckets and then walked towards me. His eyes were emotionless as he approached me. I tried to move away, but all the effort was pointless. So I steeled my expression and stared him down as he gripped my arm and yanked me upwards.

The design of the study was both antique and elegant, with a solemn and dignified atmosphere, which was quite impressive to me. "Have a seat for a while, I'll go take a shower," Eugen said to me. I nodded and played with Spring, who was really adorable and surprisingly well-behaved. After a short while, Mr. Eugen came out. He had just finished bathing and was dressed less formally than before. The top three buttons of his clothes were unbuttoned, revealing Mr. Eugen's muscular chest. There was still some moisture on his body, and his hair was casually scattered, softening his overall appearance and adding a touch of casual sexiness. I blushed and almost couldn't dare to look at Mr. Eugen. I

Eugene answered as he looked at the bloody knife Chris is holding. “Don’t you think we have so many things in common? Isn't funny?" Eugene laughed, obviously to taunt Chris. “Shut up. We’re nothing in common, you’re a killer.” Chris stuttered. He’s getting swayed by Eugene’s words. “And you’re not? Aren’t you supposed to kill me?” Eugene’s gaze went back to Damien.

Eugene stated and he turned to leave much to Pauline's horror as that meant he was going to follow through with his word. “Eugene, please,” she called as she followed him. “My decision is final, Pauline,” Eugene deadpanned. ****

And Eugene, who was limping downward with wound on his arm, also halted his pace when the ground shook. Eugene lifted his head and saw that underneath the top of the mushroom cloud, stem of smoke extended to the ground. There are rigged vertical lines on the side. “My brother,” Eugene cried. “My brother!”

“Don’t be so down, I’m sure my nieces and nephews will inherit all the beautiful genes from our family.” I elbowed him, cringing at the sound of Egor’s cry echoing through the speakers. “I can’t think that far in the future.” It’s strange to talk about these things with Klaus. This is more of the Devin kinda conversation. My friend hummed, “why not? That girl is gonna break Egor any moment now.” Egor’s weep is distressing. He can’t speak, he’s trying to but Rylee is not yet done with her ‘thing’. With an electric drill in her hands, she rounded Egor, taunting her prey, inflicting fear that’s showing in his pale green eyes.

Eugene's POV I walked into my master bedroom, the heavy double doors shutting out the suffocating silence of the corridor. I didn't turn on the lights. Instead, I stripped off my casual grey shirt, throwing it toward the armchair, and paced the length of the dark room. My mind was working at lightning speed, shifting into the cold, calculated state I used to dismantle failing corporate boards. I needed a strategy. Last night had been a tactical disaster, but I was not a man who allowed disasters to dictate his life. I was Eugene Vance. I controlled my outcomes.