The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations Novel Novels & Stories

"Deal. But remember, don't try and pull one over me. I can't promise she'll stay intact if you do. She might lose a finger or two." The call ended. However, Dad was much calmer than he had been before. He stared into the distance, his eyes unreadable. Soon, the day of the exchange arrived. Yannis accompanied him to an abandoned warehouse. As instructed, Dad only had to slip the agreement under the door of the warehouse and leave. Just as they turned to leave, Dad struck Yannis, knocking him unconscious. I was stunned for a moment. I watched as Dad kicked open the old, decrepit door of the warehouse and dragged Yannis in.

The mercenary let out a weak chuckle, despite the pain wracking his body. "You can beat me all you want! I’m not saying a damn thing!" Arthur growled in frustration before slamming the man’s head against the cold pavement. A pained gasp tore from his lips. Arthur could feel his resistance crumbling—one more push, and he would crack. The mercenary’s breath came in ragged gasps. His swollen eye barely opened as he whispered, "I… I might know something…" Arthur leaned in, grip tightening on the man’s collar. "Then start talking!"

Hello once again people i am here with my new book, if you haven't read my previous book , check it out and all the old books are completed., Second book - Greatest regret (it on soulmate) Third book- Rich jerk innocent bride.(it on billionaire man and poor girl setting) And this one on (Mafia) . enjoy

He just came out of nowhere to attack Kyle? Why? "Miss, do you know the half-blood? Do you have something to do with him?" Rita was asking me. I couldn’t bring myself to reply. The sergeant grinned, making me want to run and hide. This was not the male I'd attacked that day at the mansion back in the city. Neither was he the calm, detached male who said he wanted nothing to do with me this just afternoon. This person was possessed. Another warrior appeared. The Chief Warrior's own number two. Tony or what was his name. He took hold of the sergeant and began dragging him away. I started to follow them when someone said,

Varo kept shaking his head while one of my men tied a cloth around his mouth to keep his cock inside and when his eyes fell on the bright reddish-yellow tip of the metal rod, he tried to shift back. I leaned into his face again and whispered, “This is for looking at her with anything but respect.” I pushed the rod into his eyes, the smoke rising from the melting iris, like poison. Varo fell on the ground on his back, writhing in pain, with the rod still in his eyes. “I should gift your melted eye to Vitale as a tutorial on how fuckers like you should be dealt with.” Putting my leg over the end of the rod, I stamped on it, pushing it deeper into his eyes, the sound of something breaking audib

came me. “Kill them all!” The voices called out. I enjoyed the strength that was flowing through me, even though I had no understanding what was occurring. He coughed up blood and was panting for air. His black-stained lips and tongue were visible to me. He belonged to a small group of lethal mercenaries known as the Children of Shanahara. I once read about them in an old passage, but why was one attempting to murder me now when they were thought to have been exterminated long ago? His heart escaped his chest as I balled my fist. Someone was trying to assassinate me by employing a group of extinct assassins, so I had to find Dimitri and we had to leave immediately. Two additional black-clad

I scrolled further down the ledger, past the payments to Vexley, until I reached a series of entries marked only with a symbol: a jagged, vertical line. Ironwood. The payments to the mercenaries were astronomical. They weren't just being paid for a hit; they were being paid for discretion and retrieval. "Wait," I said, pausing on a specific entry from three years ago. "Look at this date. This payment was made forty-eight hours after the fire was declared a total loss." "A bonus?" Fenric suggested. "No. Look at the memo. It’s a single word in Latin: Reliquiae." "Remains," Fenric translated, his brow furrowed.

Nicole shrieked from the balcony, her laughter ringing out clear above the roar. I hit the bloody canvas hard, coughing up a mouthful of copper-tasting crimson as the mercenary stalked over me, lifting a heavy boot to crush my chest into the floorboards. My vision flickered violently. My lungs burned for air, and every muscle in my body screamed in total surrender. I was losing. The fifty thousand dollars, my apartment, my independence—everything was slipping through my bleeding fingers. Then, right as his steel-toed boot descended toward my face, a violent shift ripped through my entire central nervous system.

"You were part of everything! She's not going to spare you! The Mercers are demons, Jacob! None of us are getting out of here alive!" ​I listened to their frantic betrayals with cold indifference. In the face of death, their ugly, selfish natures were laid bare for everyone to see. ​"Don't worry," I said quietly, raising my barrel. "I'm just sending you to join the rest of your family. Say hi to Valerie and Dad for me." ​BANG! BANG! ​Silence returned to the room as their bodies fell still. I lowered my gun with a quiet breath. Four debts settled; only one remained.