High Rise Invasion Yuri Novels & Stories

Devin caught her mid-air, his coat catching fire as he shielded her. “You’re reckless,” he said, coughing through the smoke. She grinned. “You love it.” Inside the Mansion – Yuri’s Stand Yuri slammed her fist onto the console. “We’ve got breach teams in the west wing! I need support there now!” The door behind her burst open. Council infiltrators. Three of them. She didn’t hesitate. A blade slid from her sleeve. She threw it. One man fell. The other two lunged. Koji arrived just in time, slamming a shock baton into one’s back. Yuri ducked the second and shot him point-blank with a hidden pistol.

"Are you sure?" said Eshan. But Sebastian didn't answer his question. He just turned his back on Eshan and continued walking towards the meeting hall. So Eshan did nothing but follow Sebastian to their meeting and they just left Yuri. When the two Alphas left. Yuri took a deep breath. His face showed his tiredness that day. Yuri walked over to go to his office to rest for a while. But as he walked his whole body felt a tremor which was the cause of his weakness at those times. At those times he seems not to be at his job because of his sudden shuddering, and this attitude pisses him off. And all of this is because of Sebastian's pheromones. Just by remembering Sebastian's scent, he feels lik

Suspense filled the air as they harnessed the cosmic forces bestowed upon them, preparing to face extraterrestrial entities that sought to exploit the joint empire's vulnerabilities during the convergence. As the cosmic invasion commenced, suspenseful battles unfolded across the joint empire. Citizens witnessed the celestial clash, their hope wavering with each twist of the cosmic conflict. The charismatic leader, now a beacon of cosmic energy, led the charge against the extraterrestrial forces, their every move dictated by Seraphina's visions and the guidance of the cosmic entity within the artifact. Elara, having made the difficult choice to fully align herself with the joint empire, fough

The hall exploded into whispers, rising like the foam of an agitated sea around us. My gaze met Nikita’s across the room, her eyes stoic yet searching. In her gaze, I found the silent understanding we shared, a connection that needed no words. She stood stiffly, chains clanking slightly in a subtle reminder of her vulnerability. The Elders called for order, but Yuri's frenzy gained momentum, fueled by fear and frustration. He yelled, his voice cracking under the strain of his shattered ambitions. "If you won't do it, then I will!" There was a terrifying clarity in his eyes—one driven past sanity. Yuri lunged, grabbing a sword from a guard. I reacted instinctively, leaping forward, but I was

Strobe lights flickered over designer drugs, silk shirts, and Bratva soldiers in fitted blazers pretending not to be watching everyone. Yuri leaned against the VIP bar, a drink in hand, his smirk too polished, like he’d rehearsed it. A girl clung to his arm, her lipstick smudged, but his eyes locked on me. He shoved her aside, not gently, and the flicker of cruelty in his gaze made my stomach twist. “Thought you weren’t coming,” he said, pulling me close, his fingers digging into my waist a shade too hard. “I was bored,” I said, forcing a smile, but his touch felt wrong, like a lie I’d been ignoring.

Yuri covered the rear, his knife a blur, carving through anyone who got close. Alarms blared as they hit the service elevator, blood pooling at their feet. “Basement garage,” Yuri said, hacking the controls with Alexei’s help. “We steal a car, vanish.” As the elevator descended, Yuri’s mind raced. Vincent’s trap had been clever, but he’d underestimated Yuri’s resilience, his loyalty to Dmitri. The aphrodisiac’s haze lingered, urging him to pin Natasha against the wall and fuck her senseless, but he shoved it down.

He exerted immense effort to reach this point. Unsure of Gena’s desires, he suspected her confusion and rebellion. Her mindset mirrored that of a child seeking undefined fun, oblivious to its nature or consequences. Yuri found it challenging to enjoy her presence, but he derived pleasure from pushing her to the point of fear. He loved hearing her pain, but to hear her beg for more, as if he gave her the greatest pleasure. Yuri remained uncertain whether it aroused him or repulsed him, the most intense reaction he had ever experienced.

"Ah, that may be true, but my pride is still injured." I try hard not to laugh. Unfortunately though, I gave Xavier the exact opportunity he's been waiting for. Without flinching, he takes aim. He fires, and I barely have enough time to duck. I can hear as he begins to make his way up the silo. No where to hide, I stand up at the far end of the silo, waiting for Xavier to approach. The sound of him climbing unwavering, I get ready for his head to appear at any moment. Before I realize what's happened, I feel a sharp pain in my chest. I look down to see a purple dot over my chest. I ben my head down in defeat, and wait as Xavier makes his way up. To my surprise, Jax climbs up the ladder.

“Yuri has a place in the swamps. We are going to hold him there for a day or two. I want to break this man for everything he’s done to me. Not only that but he’s trying to put me out and take my place in New York.” Sergi sneered. “His appointment would never be approved by Russia.” Yuri took them to his own private elevator. This one would take them straight to the security floor. When they got off the elevator, they were in a short hallway. To the right was a large open room with many monitors that showed every part of the hotel and restaurant. There was one bank of monitors that displayed the inside of an old fort.

While it's technically for Kendrick's protection, to keep his presence off the radar, it's become our secret passageway. By the time I push open the tiny garden gate, it doesn't feel like I'm stepping further into the Harrolds' estate anymore. It feels like stepping into a secret. "Hello, beautiful." I freeze, phone halfway out of my bag. That voice. Deep, familiar. And not coming from the phone. I spin around. There he is, standing. Standing. No wheelchair. Just Kendrick, upright, a stick gripped tightly in one hand, sweat lining his forehead, chest rising fast. My breath catches.