Ruthless Empire Pdf Mga Nobela at Kwento

A menacing laughter erupted from my lips as thoughts of what I would do to her ran down my head. I was certain that she felt I would fire her as a result of what happened the previous night. But I wouldn't. No matter what Lilith does to me or anyone, she will never be sacked. Rather, I would chip off her wings, feather by feather, until she was left with nothing to fly with. I would break her beyond repair. Only then would she submit to me as her Alpha. When I was done with her, I would dump her. She won't challenge me now or in her next life. She would understand why people referred to me as the Ruthless Alpha.

The angle made him look domineering, her look trapped. The caption below was a single, chilling line: Every empire has its cracks. How much is a picture worth?

I knew how quickly empires crumbled when a single crack went unsealed And she was my crack. I gripped the railing , the night air sharp against my skin. Every headline, every whisper of gossip, every slip in investor confidence traced back to her absence. They called her naïve, pitiful, tragic. They painted me as ruthless, unhinged, dangerous They weren’t wrong. My empire was a reflection of me, and if I faltered, so would it. I couldn’t allow it, Iwouldn’t allow it I left the roof, my pace quickening, almost feverish now.

I kept my head down, my focus on the screen, ignoring the way Dominic’s thigh brushed against mine every time he shifted. He hadn’t said much during the meeting—he didn’t need to. His presence was enough to command the room. When he did speak, people listened. Immediately. Obediently. He ran his empire like he ran everything else—with ruthless precision. My phone buzzed in my lap. I ignored it. Then it buzzed again. I glanced at the screen. St. Bartholomew’s Hospital. My heart dropped. I silenced it, trying to keep my hands steady, my expression neutral.

She must have hidden them and completely forgotten about it. “That was taken in spring break, years ago” Cyrus muttered, holding onto a picture of the three of us smiling together and rustled up news papers that were wrapped close to the pictures with a carving of the headline ‘THE CONNERS ARE NOT THE TRUE OWNERS OF THE EMPIRE, GIVE BACK THE COMPANY TO ELIZAR’ it read. The paper dated back to twenty years ago, I stood there, frozen, unable to understand what was happening. “My parents stole the empire?” I muttered.

My jaw clenched as I turned out of the block and onto the sleek road. I hated everything here. I hated the expectations, the scripts that were written for us long before we could even form sentences. Why do our fathers think they had the right to dictate our lives? Why does his father keep shoving royalty and legacy down Alex's throat like it was the only reason he had him? Why does mine keep trying to mold me into a man I can barely recognize? The perfect son. The future president. They didn't know us. At least, mine never really did. I exhaled, shaking my head. There was one person who probably would understand me right now. Who would relate to how I feel right now—but she wasn't reachable

We were fighting it the way we loved each other. With violence. With precision. With inevitability. With a bond reckless enough to reshape kingdoms. And God help anyone who stood in the path of a story like that. Because empires crumble. But storms with names? Those live forever.

The ancient stone cracked beneath the impact, fracturing the imperial sigil carved into the obsidian. "I declare the Laurent Pack completely independent of the High Council," I roared, the declaration tearing from my chest like a physical shockwave. "We no longer answer to your fear. We no longer follow your blood-soaked scripts. From this heartbeat forward, we are sovereign." A collective gasp rippled through the gallery of lesser Alphas and enforcers standing in the shadows of the arches. The silence that followed was thick, suffocating, and heavy with the realization of what had just occurred.

I want to see my son, train him, and have become like me, his father. I thought about Don Vito. How would I convince him it's a trap? That La Routage has been rigged from top to bottom and was like leading the sheep to its slaughter? La Routage was one of the events Don Vito shows how much power and influence he possesses. It was a massive show-off for him. “A guy named Ruckus, is he one of yours?” Rivera interrupted. How does she know Ruckus? “Uhmm, yes but he was killed two nights ago.”

He had an intense look on his face as he was solely focused on his tablet. Wren and I observed him closely. He broke down all the account jargon so easily. He had the magic touch while balancing the accounts. "This is a very good deal Boss." Erik's eyes wide opened like a child in a candy store. "Empire holding is a strong company. Their debts are short term. They have paid up most of their loans. The remaining was used for expansion. With the right guidance and discipline, their projection can reach a billion in five years." I and Wren gasped at the figure Erik told us. He kept going through the numbers trying to confirm it, as it felt like a fantasy dream.