Stark Tower Novels & Stories

So she cannot say 'No' for two weeks straight. She smirked as an idea formed in her head. "Pack some clothes for Iris. I will take her with me. She will be my stand in until I could recover" she suggested. Candace frowned. "I don't think she will agree" she muttered. Natasha huffed. "She doesn't have to" Natasha replied with a calculating glint in her eyes. ..... Obsidian is the residential tower of 56 floors which the Knights group built under one of their projects. This tower is in the center of the city, and almost only millionaires reside there. Xavier has a penthouse villa in the tower on the 56th floor with 6 bedrooms.

I guess she’s completely clueless about him. Once I got out of the car, I realized how big the building was. It was hard to explain the way Axis rose above the city like it knew something the rest of us didn’t. Maybe that sounds dramatic—but then again, so was the building. Stark black glass, 19 stories tall, with a sharp, clean lines that sliced into the sky like it had been designed to intimidate.

She decided to report it to Farrah after her appointment with that man Bill Sky. “I just missed you. Let’s grab dinner together later. Okay?” Arabella continued without giving Farrah a chance to ask ‘where?’. Farrah without any hint replied excitedly, “Sure! I will see you later.” Arabella ended the call with relief and exited her apartment. Sky Corporation is the tallest building in Capital Z. It has been the landmark in the city because of its grand and luxurious design comparable to a 5- star hotel. Holding the business card on her hand, she entered Sky Corporation and went to the reception area.

The stairwell leading to the 50th floor was steep, hot, and heavy with the metallic tang of blood and gunpowder. Ethan moved carefully, each step echoing through the concrete shaft like the slow beat of war drums. Kane’s tower had once been a monument to control—a spire that looked down on everything below. Now, it was a dying beast with its throat exposed.

“Come back soon, okay?” “Okay,” she hung up then. “I’m going to town. Am I needed for anything?” I asked Mr Stark when he walked in. My eyes were glued to the tattoos littered all over his upper body. His left sleeve looked like a forest scenery of some sort. Right at the back, he had numbers, a date, with a tiny baby handprint. I wondered what they meant. “You can go,” he said his back to me. ***** | Emmanuel Stark |

Nicole's eyes fixed on the expensive lawyer she paid. "Just do your job and get me out of here ASAP!" Nicole growled, and the lawyer nodded. "I will try my best. See you tomorrow!" the lawyer got up from his chair, leaving Nicole another night in a cold prison. IL ROSSO TOWER James walked into an office building, one of the fourth tallest in New York. He looked over the beautiful and pleasing view of the lobby. The steps then enter into the elevator, which is open, particularly for tower owners. The tower belonged to Gabriel Moretti, and Bryan Alexander got he inherits after Moretti gave all of his wealth to Bryan as his son.

"Sterling Tower... the security... the Faraday shielding..." ​"Sterling is a man who trusts his eyes and his sensors," Ruth said, sitting in a velvet armchair that hissed as she sank into it. "He forgot that the people who built his tower the plumbers, the electricians, the janitors they have grandmothers too. There are tunnels under this city that don't show up on a GPS, Elara. Pipes that carry more than just water." ​I tried to sit up, but the world spun. The "noise" of the city was still there, but it was different here in the Bronx. It wasn't a roar; it was a distant murmur, filtered through layers of brick and old wood.

Manhattan rose out of the fog like a jagged crown of glass and light. We didn't go to Hawke Tower. We didn't go to the Reed Plaza. We headed for the "Dead Zone"—a pre-war limestone building in the Financial District that didn't appear on any modern digital maps. This was the Sovereign Trust Repository, the only place on earth where a Van Dyne heir could legally dissolve the Foundation.

The 100-story Mordrake Headquarters stood like an obsidian needle piercing the clouds of the city skyline. On the 83rd floor, the air was thin, cold, and smelled faintly of ozone and expensive leather. Behind a desk carved from a single slab of volcanic rock, Czar Alexander Mordrake sat as still as a predator in wait.

Meanwhile, The ATG Tower in Chicago was a spear of obsidian and cold LED light, piercing a sky that had never truly recovered its natural color. It didn’t pulse with the rhythmic, organic heat of the St. Louis Arch; it hummed with the high-pitched, predatory whine of a machine that was hungry.