Romans & histoires What Was Raditz Power Level

Six years ago, my sister and I fell for the same man, Edmund. But he only had eyes for Rosalie, the sweet, innocent type. With them, I was always the third wheel. They got married, of course. And on their wedding day, I overheard my parents whispering. "The company's strapped for cash," my father said. "What if we marry Corinne off to our business partner? That'd solve our problem..." This "partner" was over fifty and twice divorced. So I ran. I fled to Sicily with the only five thousand dollars to my name. I ran on pure bitterness. In four years, I brought dozens of small-time Sicilian crews to heel and forged my own family: Vexille. In another two, I came back to New York and quietly became the most powerful woman in the North American underworld. By then, Edmund's power was crumbling, hit hard by a rival family. That's when my mother called, her voice full of that same old entitlement. "Your brother-in-law's in some trouble. Figure out a way to help him." Then a text from my sister, Rosalie, dripping with contempt: "Sister, I remember you have a little casino in Sicily, right? So you must know something about that Vexille family." "Edmund needs their help. See what you can dig up." They still don't know. I'm the Don of the Vexille family. I glanced at the schedule my advisor had prepared. Tomorrow, 9:00 AM. A sit-down with some minor family looking for a handout. The name on the file: Edmund.

I was blind for three years. The day I saw again, I watched my billionaire husband betray me—and I smiled. I was blind for three years. The day I got my sight back, I watched my billionaire husband in bed with my cousin. He thought I couldn’t see him. He thought I was still his fragile, obedient wife—his experiment. He was wrong. While he whispered, “She’ll never witness this,” I stood in the dark… and chose revenge. He broke my heart. I’ll dismantle his empire. Alexander Kane doesn’t know the truth: I’m not just his wife. I’m the woman behind the most dangerous secret powering his fortune— and the only one who can destroy it. Now three powerful men are closing in: The crime prince who claims I was always his The investor who helped erase my past And my husband… who would burn the world before letting me go They want to control me. They want to use me. They want to own me. But I’m done being powerless. Phase III launches in seven days. Twelve lives will be destroyed—just like mine was. Unless I stop it. Unless I outplay them all. Unless I win.

Emma Blanton twists her ankle, and my fiance, Matthew Harrison, insists on becoming her personal chauffeur. When I voice my disapproval, he makes an even more outrageous decision. He moves Emma into my apartment at Bellemont District—the apartment I bought with my own money. He argues like he's the victim, "You're being selfish. She's injured, and living alone is too dangerous for her right now. I'm just being a decent human being. "And that place is sitting empty anyway. Having someone there helps with security." On the morning we were supposed to get our marriage certificate, he doesn't show up. I call, expecting apologies. Instead, I hear, "Emma had a fever this morning—101 Fahrenheit. I had to take her to urgent care. We can postpone getting the marriage certificate. Her health can't wait." To hell with postponing! I grab my phone and call David Rockefeller. "Do you want to marry me? Then get to City Hall. I'm serious—right now."

The day I married Santino Connor, he went from the infamous heir of a mafia fortune to a broke nobody. When he handed me a plastic ring in a shabby basement and asked if I would start from scratch with him, I looked at the man I had loved since I was a girl and nodded without a second thought. "Santino, as long as it was with you, I would do anything." For him, I worked more than ten hours a day until my stomach bled from the stress. Our son, from the moment he could walk, trailed me from one odd job to the next. I thought my love could eventually build us a life in the sun. Until, at a lavish banquet where I was serving the elite, he showered me with cash from his seat at the head of the table. "What's that thing crawling on the floor? It's blocking my view!" "Take the money and get out of my sight!" When I saw the woman by his side, her face an eerie copy of my own, I finally understood. To him, this was just a game, and I was the only one playing for keeps. If he was going to go to such lengths to deceive me, then it was time for his game to end. What he didn't know was that one month later, he would be tearing the world apart to find me.

Three years after I died, my mother sent me twenty dollars for living expenses. Three years before that—the first time I ever asked my family for money—she said to me, offhand, "Sometimes I think you're just putting on an act. What's so unsanitary about a thirty-cent boxed meal? And why can't you wear a five-dollar down jacket? Face it, you're just more high-maintenance than your little brother." Later, when I needed twenty dollars to buy some cheap medicine for my stomachache, she blocked me immediately and cut off all contact—along with every relative we had. "Don't contact me anymore. I'm clearly not a good mother. I can't afford to give my son a life of luxury." But for my younger brother, who had just started high school, she spared no expense—renting him a three-bedroom apartment. Even the family dog got its own room. In the end, on the day my brother became the top scorer in the state, she finally remembered me. She took me off her block list and transferred twenty dollars. "It's only twenty dollars. Was it really worth giving your family the silent treatment for three whole years?" What she never knew was this— On the night my stomach ruptured, three years ago, I had already died. I couldn't afford to go to the hospital. I froze to death in the snow.

"Boss, Madam said you were exploiting her labor. She wants to resign." "I don't allow." He wore gold-framed glasses, focusing on the stack of documents in front of him. As he looked up, it seemed the summer sun's brightness could only match his handsome face, "Has she not realized her mistake?" Seeing his calm demeanor, his assistant panicked, "This time, Madam wants to resign as your wife." Impossible! Even when his son went to school, he had teachers to care for him. How could he work so hard in this office but not receive a bit of care from his wife? He wanted to meet her right now! After only a few minutes without seeing her, he already missed his little girl. --------------------- It's still the same 'him' from four years ago. "Emma Garcia, I'm so tired. If you're so heartless towards me, never let me see you again!" Who dared to say that to his wife four years ago? He'd hit them! After pursuing his wife for so many years, no one can prevent him from pampering her anymore!

Shana‘s world turned up side down when she realized she was wolfless. However, when Shana got bullied as the wolfless transfer student in a new school, the hot hockey captain suddenly ran to her and lifted her in his arms. ____________ "You were there for me when I needed you. Now, it's my turn to be there for you." Blinking in astonishment, I found myself staring into the familiar face of Bear— the chubby-cheeked, infectious-smiled, and brilliantly blue-eyed best friend I had thought I had lost.

I lost everything in a single night—my pack, my home, my whole clan. Found by Hades, the owner of an assassin group called the Nameless, he trains me into a merciless killer called Viper. But all I can think about is avenging my parents. I can’t stop thinking about the fire, the screams, the look of terror in my mother’s eyes as she hid me in our closet. And to my greatest surprise, Hades offers me a deal: kill Alpha Tyler, one of the strongest Alphas in the werewolf territory, in exchange for my parents’ killers. Everything crumbles when I realize Alpha Tyler is my fated mate, but that isn’t what freaks me out—it’s the fact that I’ll have to live with him and spy for Hades. What if I get caught? What if Alpha Tyler discovers that the woman living under his roof is an assassin sent by the Nameless? What if getting close to him, feeling things I shouldn’t, ruins everything and makes me fall for the one I’m supposed to kill?

Everyone in the underworld knew Rosalie Thorne, the "Thorn Principessa" of the North. Wild, rebellious, notorious. Street racing, high-stakes gambling, guns, and drinking, she had mastered them all. The rose-and-thorn tattoo on the nape of her neck drove countless men wild. But what they didn't know was that for Rocco, the new mob boss of the South, a single sentence, "I prefer a more obedient woman," was all it took. At his word, I had the tattoo lasered off and swapped my leathers for long, conservative dresses. I am Rosalie. For five years, I hid my identity and played the porcelain doll Rocco wanted. Until the night he eliminated all his rivals and was crowned the new Don of the South. That was when he let his men bow to another woman, hailing her as their "Donna." I watched Rocco. The same hands that had just executed a traitor were now gently placing a pair of red high heels on the feet of his adoptive sister, Vivian. "Rosalie, she has a temper. She'll make a scene if she doesn't get the title." "You're the good one, the obedient one. Just let her have this." That day, I walked straight out into the rain and never looked back. I was never truly obedient. I just made myself smaller for him. My family had already chosen a husband for me. They had been waiting five years, just for me to say yes.

My parents always said the world had no sympathy for the weak. So from the moment my younger brother and I could walk, they put us through what they called the 'Strong Child Program.' At five years old, we had to run five kilometers every day. If we could not finish, we were not allowed to eat. At seven, my brother broke his arm. My parents refused to let the doctors use anesthesia, saying enduring pain was a lesson every strong person had to learn. At nine, I burned with a 104℉ fever. Instead of taking me to the hospital, they wiped my body with ice water and forced me to endure it because 'sick children grow stronger immunity.' Then, on the first day of summer vacation, my father announced this year's special training: We were going to learn to swim in the Roaring Spine River. No life jackets. No safety gear. "You only learn after choking on water a few times," my father said. But my brother choked over a hundred times and still could not swim. I desperately swam toward him, trying to pull him back to shore, but somehow the distance between us only kept growing. I called my father, screaming for help, begging him to call emergency services. But after listening to me, he only snorted coldly. "Who learns swimming without swallowing some water? "Your brother isn't made of paper. "Stop yelling and focus on learning to swim." But by then, my brother had already been swept away by the current…