In the space between them, it was like walking a tightrope-move too close, and you're shattered beyond repair; step back, and you're strangers forever. Jade's instinct was to pull away, yet Andrea was hell-bent on narrowing that gap. Diving deep undercover to untangle the threads of a terror plot, Jade became Andrea's shadow-his hand, his weapon. She had fooled herself into thinking her cover was bulletproof until Andrea cornered her against the desk, his voice cutting through the air like ice, "The bug you planted-Is there a man listening on the other side?" Jade's heart skipped a beat. But instead of anger, he leaned in closer, his lips grazing her neck, "Do you, like him?" Caught between the impulse to break her neck or claim her lips, Andrea knew deep down he'd always opt for the latter.
In the heart of New York City, well past midnight.
The streets are veiled in the vaporous exhalations of the subway below.
Towering skyscrapers, endless boulevards, and colossal edifices soar skyward, cutting through the shroud of misty night. Gentle breezes carry a light drizzle, creating shimmering reflections on the glass buildings, as the city's inhabitants gather in a bustling, yet uncertain, late-night rendezvous.
At the dimly lit mouth of an alley, a resplendent red Bugatti comes to a standstill, exuding an unapologetic allure, akin to an elusive phantom fire in the depths of the night.
Jade leaned against the car's hood, lighting a cigarette.
"I ain't doin' that no more, I swear," the guy sobbed, blood running from his nose, his shirt soaked from her beatdown.
In the cold misty air, a white vapor emanated from her pale lips as Jade looked down at the guy lying on the ground. She crouched down.
"I-I messed up..." The man stammered in fear, stumbling backward, "I really won't do it again, I swear."
Jade remained silent, taking another drag of her cigarette. The tip of the cigarette glowed brightly in the night. She nonchalantly responded with a vague "Hmm" and leaned closer.
"Ah!!"
A piercing scream ripped through the nighttime silence. The man winced as she pressed the lit end of her cigarette against his arm, the pain nearly making him faint.
"You gonna remember this?" Jade asked.
"Yeah, yeah," the man nodded frantically, "I got it."
"Then scram," she said, straightening up and flicking away her cigarette butt.
The man scrambled away in a hurry. Only when she was sure he had gone far enough did Jade pick up the paper bag from the ground and straighten her disheveled clothes.
"Arf~"
A soft sound came from beneath her feet. She paused as she reached for the door handle of the car, looking down at the stray dog she had just rescued.
That rogue from earlier, whether he was drunk or just plain crazy, had been squatting in the alley in the middle of the night, using the glowing tip of his cigarette to burn the poor dog.
Jade pulled out a few Band-Aids from her pocket and patched up the dog's wounds.
"Arf~~"
Seemingly finding a sense of safety from Jade, the stray dog clung to her and refused to leave.
Jade had no choice but to crouch down again, patting its head, and said, "I can't take you with me, okay? I can barely take care of myself."
The dog's ears perked up, as if he understood.
"Go on," she said. "Don't trust just anyone like a fool from now on, got it?"
The puppy wagged his tail and slowly walked away.
On this March night in New York, the temperature remained low.
The car quickly fogged up, and the radio was playing the evening news, with a somber tone from the female anchor.
"...Two years since the Metropolitan Theater terrorist attack, New York citizens have gathered spontaneously at Lincoln Center, in the square..."
The radio signal disappeared into the rain curtain, and after a few blocks, Jade parked the car outside the Pinnacle Building.
The top-floor gothic-style luxury apartment is still brightly lit.
A sense of unease washed over her, and she turned off the radio. In the rearview mirror, blurred by the streetlights, a fair face appeared.
Under the thick feathered lashes that shade the mist-like black eyes, she has a delicate face. Yet, her high, arched brows added a touch of cool elegance to her soft beauty.
She covered the remaining bruise on her forehead with a band-aid, pulling her black hair into a ponytail.
This injury was from Andrea Caruso's engagement banquet earlier tonight.
Thinking back to the gang shootout, Jade felt a shiver in her stomach.
As bodyguard of Andrea Caruso's fiancée, she had some knowledge of his background. On the surface, he was the CEO of the Navoi Group in New York, controlling most of the shipping market in the Americas. But in the shadows, he's involved in international arms smuggling, wielding significant influence in the Americas, Africa, and the Middle East.
Those wanting to kill him are naturally countless, including tonight's hitmen from the Branconi Family.
Jade rubbed her head in frustration, picked up the paper bag from the passenger seat, and got out of the car.
The elevator stopped on the fiftieth floor, and the doors slid open, allowing cold light to flood in.
The apartment seemed different.
It had been a gift from Andrea to his fiancée, Willow Wen, after their engagement. Jade had lived here with her for a few months, and it was rarely visited by anyone, not even Andrea.
But today...
Jade hesitated and walked into the living room, her gaze falling upon the deep gray men's coat draped over the back of the sofa, facing away from the elevator.
Someone's here.
However, Willow doesn't have friends in New York, let alone male ones.
The chaotic scene of the Branconi Family's attack at the engagement party flashed in her mind. Her emotions tensed, and she took light steps, preparing to check the situation inside.
But a strange scent approached from behind. Jade lowered her head and saw a tall shadow on the ground moving towards her.
In a split second, the instinct engraved in her blood made Jade react instantly. With a muffled sound, the man fell, groaning as she gripped his throat.
Brown hair, blue eyes, clean and deep facial features. He was tall and robust, wearing a well-tailored suit. The calluses on his right hand which she had pinned down, especially on the index and middle joints, indicated long-term use of firearms.
In New York, only Mafia members would have these features.
Her thoughts paused, and the captive man reacted. He forcefully twisted his wrist. Taking advantage of his height and strength, he quickly turned the tables.
His fists were fast and dense, accompanied by a powerful force, raining down like hail. Jade couldn't confront him head-on, but she agilely dodged, moving like a slippery fish.
Change happened in an instant.
The man's muscular forearm lifted, suddenly changing direction, heading straight for Jade's neck!
"Crack!" A crisp sound of teeth clashing.
In a flash, a shadow moved from the wall. The hand reaching for Jade's neck froze in place.
The action was so fast that the man had no time to react to how she evaded the attack and kicked him under the jaw.
"Damn it..." His already thin patience was exhausted.
With a metallic clash, the gun was loaded. The man, covering his mouth, stepped back two steps.
But the next moment, the gun he hadn't raised yet was kicked away by Jade.
The man fell to the ground with a groan, and Jade grabbed a decorative vase from the nearby cabinet, ready to smash it onto his forehead.
"Ugh..."
Mid-action, she felt her neck tighten, and a soft, cold thing, large and powerful, like a predator biting onto its prey's neck.
"Viktor."
A clear and indifferent voice instantly cooled the tense atmosphere.
The man's voice was low and powerful, erupting from deep within his chest, neither rushed nor slow.
Just two words, but full of authority.
The man on the ground hesitated. He didn't immediately retreat, but the hostility in his eyes diminished.
Silence enveloped the surroundings, suffocatingly quiet.
Jade realized, in a daze, that it was a leather glove gripping her.
Lost in thought, the tall shadow descended. The air around became heavier, suffocating.
In the next moment, she was flipped over, pressed against the wall by the man.
Their eyes met, dark eyes with misty gray, overwhelming and penetrating, like a graceful leopard.
By female standards, Jade was considered tall. Yet, facing this man, it seemed like even tiptoeing wouldn't reach his chin.
The clean scent of cedarwood, sandalwood, and ocean surrounded her, reminiscent of the earth after a storm.
"Miss Ouyang," he spoke again, "that was a misunderstanding. I'm letting you go. Just relax."
His commanding tone turned an explanation into an order. Jade nodded.
Only then did the man release her, taking a few steps back.
Finally, Jade got a clear look at him.
A solitary lamp by the vast floor-to-ceiling window cast moving shadows in the living room.
The light flowed, running along his sleek black hair until it reached his sharp jawline, where it stopped. His eyes were hidden beneath a few stray strands of hair, indifferent and deep.
Perhaps it was the soft lighting that softened his sharp features, but Jade could strangely sense a touch of tenderness on his face.
Black hair, black eyes, and a blend of Eastern delicacy and Western ruggedness in his facial features.
Mixed race.
But Jade remembered that most members and associates of the New York Mafia were Italians, with no obvious Eastern features.
Seeing that Jade had regained her composure, the man walked over and sat on the sofa near the window.
"We've met."
"What?" Jade was a bit confused, unable to recall where she had seen him.
Expressionless, the man intertwined his fingers, resting his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. The blood vessels on his forearms were slightly raised-a pose that suggested a desire to talk, yet it carried a surge of preparation for an attack.
Her previously calm heartbeat suddenly accelerated. Jade adjusted her jacket.
"We've met before," he spoke again, without waiting for her response "Tonight, at the engagement banquet."
Jade was stunned.
So, he's...
Andrea Caruso?
Rumors said that Lucas married an unattractive woman with no background. In the three years they were together, he remained cold and distant to Belinda, who endured in silence. Her love for him forced her to sacrifice her self-worth and her dreams. When Lucas' true love reappeared, Belinda realized that their marriage was a sham from the start, a ploy to save another woman's life. She signed the divorce papers and left. Three years later, Belinda returned as a surgical prodigy and a maestro of the piano. Lost in regret, Lucas chased her in the rain and held her tightly. "You are mine, Belinda."
For three years, Shane and Yvonne were wed, sharing heated nights, while his devotion clung to his ex. Yvonne strove to be a dutiful wife, yet their marriage felt hollow, built on desire rather than real warmth. All changed when she became pregnant, only for Shane to thrust her onto the operating table, warning, “Either you or the baby survives!” Broken by his cruelty, she vanished in grief and later returned, radiantly accomplished, leaving everyone awestruck. Haunted by remorse, Shane begged for another chance, but Yvonne only smiled and replied, “I’m sorry, men no longer interest me.”
Kallie, a mute who had been ignored by her husband for five years since their wedding, also suffered the loss of her pregnancy due to her cruel mother-in-law. After the divorce, she learned that her ex-husband had quickly gotten engaged to the woman he truly loved. Holding her slightly rounded belly, she realized that he had never really cared for her. Determined, she left him behind, treating him as a stranger. Yet, after she left, he scoured the globe in search of her. When their paths crossed once more, Kallie had already found new happiness. For the first time, he pleaded humbly, "Please don't leave me..." But Kallie's response was firm and dismissive, cutting through any lingering ties. "Get lost!"
She was a diamond covered by ashes.... King Dakota was known as the most Powerful Alpha King of all times - more powerful than any other King that had ruled from his lineage. He was cold hearted, introverted and dangerous in anger. Cursed by the Moon goddess, King Dakota had to get married to three wives all in search of a male child that would become his heir, but it was impossible as the curse would only let his wives bear she -wolves. But on a different day, the King meets a lady who offends him and as a punishment, he took her home as his fourth wife. Her name was Shilah. Shilah was a powerless wolf and as a result, was disregarded and intimidated by all. But, when she begins to do things that the King had never felt for years, he began to wonder who she really was. Slowly, she crawled her way into his icy heart and turned out to be something nobody ever expected - a storm.
Iris grew from an orphaned child to the adopted daughter of the Stewart family at age ten, finding warmth in her nominal uncle Vincent's kindness. Seven years later, she became his secret lover. When Vincent's engagement was announced, gossip spread about the notorious playboy CEO finally settling down. But only Iris knew the extent of his cold, two-faced nature. Iris fell for Vincent and, through tears, begged, "Marry me," only to be met with his frosty refusal. Defeated, she accepted a lawyer's proposal, sparking public excitement. Then, on her wedding day, Vincent pleaded desperately, "Don't marry him…"
COALESCENCE OF THE FIVE SERIES BOOK ONE: THE 5-TIME REJECTED GAMMA & THE LYCAN KING BOOK TWO: THE ROGUES WHO WENT ROGUE BOOK THREE: THE INDOMITABLE HUNTRESS & THE HARDENED DUKE *** BOOK ONE: After being rejected by 5 mates, Gamma Lucianne pleaded with the Moon Goddess to spare her from any further mate-bonds. To her dismay, she is being bonded for the sixth time. What’s worse is that her sixth-chance mate is the most powerful creature ruling over all werewolves and Lycans - the Lycan King himself. She is certain, dead certain, that a rejection would come sooner or later, though she hopes for it to be sooner. King Alexandar was ecstatic to meet his bonded mate, and couldn’t thank their Goddess enough for gifting him someone so perfect. However, he soon realizes that this gift is reluctant to accept him, and more than willing to sever their bond. He tries to connect with her but she seems so far away. He is desperate to get intimate with her but she seems reluctant to open up to him. He tries to tell her that he is willing to commit to her for the rest of his life but she doesn’t seem to believe him. He is pleading for a chance: a chance to get to know her; a chance to show her that he’s different; and a chance to love her. But when not-so-subtle crushes, jealous suitors, self-entitled Queen-wannabes, an old flame, a silent protector and a past wedding engagement threaten to jeopardize their relationship, will Lucianne and Xandar still choose to be together? Is their love strong enough to overcome everything and everyone? Or will Lucianne resort to enduring a sixth rejection from the one person she thought she could entrust her heart with?