The Bloody Baron Novels & Stories

Rather he and his men saved her. Bright light flooded the room and Rosy pulled the duvet down to see a very furious Sergio glaring down at her. “What happened? Who was that?” She stammered at him. Instead of answering, he withdrew a military knife from his waistband. Still staring hard at Rosy, he slid it across his palm and Rosy gasped in terror. She tried scrambling away from him but he was faster. He caught her by wrist and in one swift motion sliced her palm, droplets of her blood ruining the bed covers.

Alexander pulled out the metal pole from the man’s body. Marco junior was one of the biggest scums Alexander had come across in his entire life, the bastard did so many wrong things and caused so much harm to innocents, women and children and every single time he ends up getting away with it. Alexander wanted to send a message to the council members through Marco Domenico’s grandson but then he got carried away as he usually did at the sight of blood.

Wanni followed, with her face pale and tight. They walked right into my wall of soldiers. Baron stopped dead on his tracks and he looked around the lobby and saw the armed men surrounding him. “Baron. Wanni.” My voice echoed. “It is over. Let them go.” Baron scowled. “Over? It is just the beginning.” His hand moved toward his jacket— A dart whistled through the air and struck Baron’s neck with a soft thud. He staggered with his eyes wide with terror. His hands reached for the dart, but his fingers barely touched it before his knees buckled. He crumbled to polished floor, unconscious.

The baron gasped but didn’t dare to argue. He relied on his weapons and armor—and he miscalculated. Jack’s armaments turned out to be no worse than his. It all took twenty minutes. Jack and the baron stood in a circle. The baron carefully defended himself, while Jack leaped ahead, forcing the former to step back, trying to get away. A barrage of blows forced the baron to let his guard down and lose his ground, taking a hit that separated his head from his body. The decapitated body stood tall for a few moments before collapsing, covering the ground in blood from his arteries.

The room dipped into even more silence as blood continued to pour down my arm, I knew it would be better if I take all the glass out so my body could begin the healing process, even if that task hurt like a bitch. “I had assumed we would have a more peaceful breakfast, but it seems as though any situation with you involved becomes rather explosive.” Baron spoke breaking through the silence as he watched me, I thought he would be angry that I’d just assaulted one of his workers, but deep in his eyes seemed to be a mixture of pride and odd desire for what I’d done.

We thrashed in the dusty clearing, bodies twisting as each of us traded blows—my knuckles cracking against his face, his elbow snapping against my ribs. When his energy dipped, I twisted him over onto his back and rained a trio of heavy punches to his temple. He kicked me off, scrambling to his feet with one hand pressed to his bleeding cheek. "Okay, I think that's enough, boys. I see blood," Baron called out to us as he pulled his son back to look at his bleeding nose. I clenched my fists, ready to beat his ass some more, but a panicked wail cut through the tension. "Mama! Mama! Mama!"

Flint's physique dwarfed mine completely. A terrifying curl twisted across his coarse, severe face. "Don't struggle. I'll do my best to make this less unpleasant for you." This was the largest foe I had ever faced. I could not even tell if Flint wanted to inspire fear or heap humiliation on me. He could have dropped me to the floor with a single strike, yet he dragged it out, savoring the moment. He wanted to torture me. "Stop! Stop, you don't know what you're doing!" Baron shouted, lifting his head from the floor with difficulty. He coughed and spat blood. "He's not just any man! His real identity is—"

It was a grand event that promised to gather all the elites of high society. An invitation personally delivered by the Howe family heir… There was no escaping that social battlefield. When I arrived at the party wearing ten-centimeter heels custom-designed by a French designer and a blood-red evening gown, the first person I saw was someone I had not expected at all. Ethan West. He had changed a lot. He still looked like a polished member of high society, but the noble grace and cold aloofness were long gone. His presence felt like that of a beggar wrapped in luxury. His entire being was radiating darkness and decay.

"At sa bawat minutong lumilipas, ang pressure ng tubig sa Danube Dam ay tumataas. Kapag umabot ang tubig sa level 4, wala nang kawala ang iyong apo, Frederick." ​Hinigpitan ni Xander ang hawak sa kanyang kamao. Ang kanyang mga mata ay nakatuon sa Baron. "Kung may mangyaring masama sa asawa ko, Baron, sisiguraduhin kong ang maze na iyan ang magiging huling hantungan mo. At huwag mong isipin na mapoprotektahan ka ng 'royal blood' mo." ​"Isang banta sa isang miyembro ng Council?" tawa ng Baron. "Masyado kang agresibo, Mr. Black. Kaya siguro hindi ka kailanman tatanggapin ng pamilyang ito."

Barrett snapped at Serena to leave, then instructed Tara to dismiss all the servants, allowing only his father and older brother to remain in the room. Lately, Barrett had been drinking more than usual. His complexion appeared sallow and haggard. His hair was a mess, like wild grass growing unchecked. His beard, likely only shaved a few days ago, had already grown out in a thin, patchy circle around his pale, cracked lips. To any onlooker, he resembled a wild, mangy dog.