Next Strike Novels & Stories

“Could you by chance know the reason for this annual meeting?” Red shook her head. “I don’t really know much. Whenever they’re there for the meeting, they make all the strippers and bottle girls wear these customized headphones they bring along themselves. As a stripper, you strip to whatever song you can hear through the headphones. As a bottle girl, you have loud music playing. Whenever they want a bottle, your music stops, you get the orders, and then your music automatically comes back on. I don’t know why they do it, but there’s no way you can hear or see anything even if you’re right in front of them stripping. They’re so organized and don’t make too much noise.”

The air seemed to freeze. Every camera was trained on us. Even the livestream comments paused for a brief moment. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the storm. Would he slap me in public? Or coldly spit out, “Get lost?” I could already imagine tomorrow’s headline: [Righteous Gentleman Publicly Slaps Gold-Digger, Defends True Love.] Anthony lowered his gaze and looked at me. The next second, he pulled me into a tight embrace, his voice trembling. “Honey! Why are you in such a mess? Who bullied you?”

She’d been riding Mireille’s coattails these years and never took Raina seriously. But before her palm hit Raina’s face, Raina caught it. Next second — smack — like thunder breaking the silence. Raina returned the slap hard, sending Odessa sprawling. “Ah! Odessa, you okay? Someone call a doctor!” Mireille rushed over, panicking. No one expected the seemingly delicate Raina to strike like lightning — one slap and Odessa was down. Odessa was dazed, stunned for a long moment, shame flooding her face. Then, bloodshot eyes blazing, she lunged at Raina and grabbed her neck with both hands.

"So I use their size against them." "Exactly," Lucius said. "Don't ever try to block a strike. Slip right past it. Wait for them to miss, step inside their guard, and hit them where they're soft. The throat, the eyes, the back of the knees. Forget about playing fair. Just survive."

“YOU TOOK HER—!! YOU—!! YOU—!!” Alexander’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t take anything. But if you touch her— if you hurt her—” His glow flared. A pulse rippled through the clearing. Jay stumbled back from the force. Alexander’s voice dropped into something feral: “—I will stop you.” Jay lunged. The First Strike Jay moved faster than anything human. He slammed into Alexander with enough force to throw him ten meters through the snow. Alexander hit the ground hard. Blood filled his mouth.

“Strike One.” “Strike Two.” Beckett had almost made the jackpot. The crowd erupted. My breath caught. My grip turned white-hot. He was leading me on, toying with me. I saw it in his grin. In the way he danced around the edges of my fury with ease. And I snapped. I lunged forward hard. No more patience. Just brute, burning force. Our blades clashed again and again. He stumbled . “Strike Two.” I panted, we were even now. My body burned. Sweat dripped down my jaw. He was so fast, his footwork exeptional and his blade struck fast like a cobra.

Is there somebody help me stop this maniac? "Sir!" A man's hurried voice came from the side. "You have an urgent call!" "I said don't disturb me!" While the man turned his head, I raised the thigh to the man's lower body to kick him. I feel like my knee is touching a hard rock. Then I heard curses. I ran away and saw Radleigh walking away with my sister in his arm towards the door of the bar. I'm going after them! But when I ran outside the bar, I couldn't find them. They are was out of my sight. Damn it. I need to find and confront them.

But his son’s assault was only just beginning. “Second strike” “Third strike” “Fourth strike” “Fifth strike” “Sixth strike” *Bam*

I nodded while smiling and waving at everyone I recognized. "Yes, I am. It's Dante's night!" I said into the microphone. "Of course, of course. We all know there is no one here who supports Dante Solano more than you do. How sure are you that he will win this season? I mean, we all know the Solano brothers are the best strikers there are. Voss Solano was also nominated this season. He played well this year as well," she said. My stomach dipped, but I still held my smile.

I told him. "Fine. Don't move." He ordered and moved behind me. I held my breath in anticipation of the strike. He snapped it across my lower ass and the slight sting flared into a burning sensation. This was too light to truly feel anything. It hardly touched me. "Again?" I need to be sure. The cane made a low swooshing sound in the air as Nik laid another strike an inch below the previous one. "Fuck." A cry wretched out of my mouth and tears spurt in my eyes at the searing sting.