Next Strike Novels & Stories

Chapter 176 — The Workaround "Dante," she said, her voice deliberately even, the same careful steadiness she'd use talking R down from a nightmare. "I found it. It's not on a timer — it's tied to GPS. The bomb only fires if your car's tracking unit registers you crossing inside a specific radius around the finish line." "Okay," Dante said, breathless, the engine roar swallowing half the word. "What do I do."

Elise yelled, storming toward Athena. Her heart pounded as rage consumed her. She couldn’t let this woman taint her grandfather’s memory. Not after everything she had sacrificed. “Eli, i warned you!” Before she could grab Athena, Lucas' hand shot out, yanking her arm. His slap came fast and hard, sending her stumbling. Her heel caught the edge of the stair, and she tumbled down, pain shooting through her body with every step. She landed on the cold tile floor, her head striking something sharp. A sickening crack echoed in her ears.

Waiting for the strike that would end it. Adrian’s fist came down—and I moved.

I know she'll be very angry and her next strike was definitely going to be all out and extremely brutal. She won't be playing no more games when she strikes again, it'll be sudden death. We have just angered a lioness and the sickening thought of death is all I can think about. But the same couldn't be said for the both of them. Lucian patted his back softly and dropped to the chair, his bones and muscles creaking as the blood still gushed out from his skin. “So? What next?” I asked. I had to because it kind of seemed like their minds had synced and they knew exactly what they were up to, keeping me in the dark.

he asks. I shake my head once. “No.” I move first this time. The strike I throw forces him to step back quickly, sand spraying under his boots. He blocks it, but I follow with another swing and another, pushing him across the circle until his back almost hits the wooden post. “Think,” I tell him. “Don’t just swing.” Micah bares his teeth. “Maybe I like swinging.” He throws a reckless strike toward my ribs. I catch it easily. Then I twist the blade out of his grip.

The city was quiet that morning, but in Daniel Reeves’ penthouse, the air was electric. His fingers drummed rhythmically on the polished glass table. Lucas Harrington’s counterstrike had rattled him, exposed his operations, and turned the public eye on his empire. But Daniel was no ordinary adversary. Calm, calculated, and patient—he had prepared for this. The first strike had failed to unseat him. Now it was time to remind Lucas that every action had a reaction. And Daniel’s reaction would be precise, personal, and inescapable.

Separate them. And when they were far enough apart, strike.

“Also, it seems Patrick and his son, Hector, are dead as well. “As for Tre-strike… If he comes to Clouspring to avenge his brother, there’s no telling who’s going to walk out of the fight alive.” “That can’t be possible, right? You’ve overestimated Kayson, Father.” Hogan could not refrain himself from querying, “Tre-strike has been growing more and more powerful over the past decade, and no one can survive a third strike from him.” “Go and do it when I order you to do something. Stop talking nonsense!” Bradley said sternly, “Even though you’re the patriarch of the family, I believe that I still haven’t lost all my authority in speech, right?”

“They’ll expect us to defend, not strike. That’s why we hit them first. Fast. Ruthless. We take their shipments, torch what we can’t use, and leave nothing but ashes.” Gia’s dark eyes glinted. “And what about retaliation? They’ll hit back. Hard.” “Then we make sure they can’t.” The words came easy. Too easy. My mind was already mapping the violence: where bodies would fall, where screams would echo, how long it would take to break them so badly they’d never rise again. Alana leaned forward, her fingers brushing the edge of the map. “Gia takes shipments. Niko runs the perimeter. But Zach and I lead the strike. They need to see us. Both of us.”

“Face forward, Nightingale, and brace yourself. Make sure your hands remain on the desk. You chose this option, remember that, and I already warned you that I wouldn’t go easy on you. If you make it to strike number twelve without giving up, I will reward you for being a good girl.” As soon as I faced forward, he struck me on my left thigh, just underneath my ass. I yelped in shock, firstly because I wasn’t expecting him to start so quickly, and secondly because I wasn’t expecting the strikes to hit so low. The pain had been overshadowed by my initial shock, but as soon as that shock passed, I could feel the burn. And this was just strike one. I was more prepared for the second strike, but i