Inquisitormaster Jade New Look Novels & Stories

Jimmy fell to the ground and groaned with pain once again. "Damn it!" he frowned and rubbed his bottom. "I'm sick of these painful landings!" He heard someone laughing behind. He quickly turned around and found the gorgeous red-haired woman staring at him with a big smile. He looked around him and realized he's in the dungeon where all the Gemmas were jailed before Adalis' death. The woman approached him slowly and said, "I knew you would be back." Jimmy gulped and stared at her, "M-mother?"

"And I definitely don’t like whatever this new group is. It’s creepy." I nodded in agreement. "We’re trying to figure it out, Lila. We just need a bit more information." Lila sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "All I know is that Maya met him at one of the old meeting spots in the woods. After that, she was different." Another dead end. Whoever this person was, he was careful. It was like he’d erased any trace of his identity. * * * Our final interview was with a boy named Jared, who had a reputation for being a bit of a joker. He leaned back in his chair, twirling a pen between his fingers.

She exuded an air of authority and glamor. Ula sat up instinctively, anxiously asking, "Who are you? Where is this?" "Welcome to the world of dreams. I'm delighted to meet you. I am Jade, the mistress here," the woman replied with a proud tone and a haughty smile. "Why am I here?" Ula asked, terrified, continuing, "I don't know you. What do you want from me?" "Calm down, Ula," Jade requested as she noticed Ula's pale complexion and trembling demeanor.

Her heart was already beating fast. “Come in,” a deep voice called. They stepped inside. Professor Damien Blackthorn sat behind his desk in a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled up. He looked up from some papers and his eyes moved slowly over both girls. Nova was twenty-one, curvy with long dark hair and full lips. Jade was the same age, petite but with a tight body and blonde waves that fell past her shoulders. “Close the door and lock it,” he said without wasting time. Jade turned the lock with a soft click. The room felt hotter already.

She was intelligent; she would understand the implications. “I see,” she replied, her voice even. “A sudden development, then.” “Indeed,” Damon confirmed. “And an immediate need for a replacement. I require someone capable, discreet, and available immediately. Someone who can handle highly sensitive information without question or compromise. Someone who understands the absolute necessity of confidentiality.” His gaze was piercing, a silent challenge. “Do you have anyone in your department who fits that description?”

They tore my clothes, hit me, and slapped me until my vision swam. I begged them to stop. I said there had to be a mistake. The bride planted her stiletto heel down onto the back of my hand, grinding it cruelly. She leaned in, her voice low and mocking. "There's no mistake. This ring is one of a kind. It's custom-made. If you have it, then you're the mistress." My hand split open under her heel. Blood smeared the diamond. Then, she took out a small knife and carved "mistress" across my face. She dragged me by the hair out of the mall and into the street.

Poor Henry. “Eureka!” an excited voice said, and it snapped the heir apparent—and me—out of our thoughts. Henry whirled around while I just looked up and our eyes landed on a girl wearing a short white coat. It was my twin sister, Jade. She was standing near her laptop on the far side of the granite counter. She had papers and Petri dishes with tissue and blood samples piled high on her table. I always assumed scientists were orderly, but she was the opposite. When there was chaos, Jade thrived and could think more clearly. Or so she says. Maybe she’s just untidy and lazy.

Not because she believed Mina capable of causing trouble, but because the situation itself had been strange. Madam Hawthorne sat in her study, the quiet rustle of paper the only sound in the room as she examined the first investigation report. The investigator had been thorough. Jade August. Age, education, employment history. From what the report described, Jade was an exceptionally hardworking young woman who had climbed her way through school with scholarships and relentless effort before eventually joining the Hawthorne Empire. There was nothing inherently suspicious in the file. In fact, it painted the portrait of someone diligent and disciplined.

A few more minutes passed and I suddenly caught Jade staring at me again, but this time I didn't look away and forced her to keep the eye contact. I expected to see that familiar flash of competitive fire or the usual anger that she carried like a shield, but to my absolute shock, her gaze was filled with something entirely different. Her eyes were wide and filled with a fear I had not seen before, she looked so troubled that for a second she didn't look like the arrogant intern who had been making my life a living hell. She looked small and vulnerable, like a trapped animal looking for a way out, and the sight of it made the air leave my lungs.

By the time she opened the front door of her own apartment on the third floor, the first gray beams of the dawn were breaking through the living-room blinds. “You are tracking wet leaves onto the rug,” a dry voice noted from the kitchen. Quin stopped in the entryway, taking off her boots. Jade was sitting on a high wooden stool, swathed in a faded hoodie, sipping on the steaming cup of green tea. Her laptop was open to some test questions in a course but she was not looking at the screen. Instead, her eyes swept up, looking at her in an assessing glance, windblown hair, smudged make-up, slight shadows of weariness under her eyes, and defensive stiffness in her posture.