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Chapter 33: The First Strike
Last Updated:
2025-02-09 19:03:36
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Rise Of The Heiress Chapter 34: The Deadliest Game
The warehouse was eerily silent, save for the distant sound of waves crashing against the docks. The smell of rusted metal and oil lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of rain from the outside. Shadows stretched long across the floor, illuminated only by flickering industrial lights. Isabella remained crouched behind the stack of crates, her breathing steady despite the rapid pounding of her heart. Ryan was a few feet away, gun drawn, his eyes locked on the darkness beyond. They weren’t alone. The Ghost had lured them here. A soft chuckle echoed through the empty space. “You have good instincts, Camilla,” the voice drawled smoothly, calculated and unhurried. “But instincts alone won’t save you.” Ryan tightened his grip on his weapon, scanning the shadows for movement. Isabella, however, remained focused, her mind racing. Jonathan Laurent had sent one of the most elusive assassins after her. That meant two things—one, Jonathan was growing desperate, and two, h
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A dim light flickered from the lone bulb hanging above Isabella’s head, casting elongated shadows across the cold concrete floor. The room smelled of damp metal and faint traces of blood. The cuffs around her wrists bit into her skin, but the dull ache was the least of her concerns.She had been captured.By The Ghost.And that bastard had called her Camilla.The name rattled inside her skull, stirring up memories she had long buried. He knows something. But how? Jonathan Laurent had spent years erasing Camilla from existence, replacing her with Isabella Devereaux. There was no trace of her past left in the world—no records, no photographs, no living soul who could tie her back to her old identity.Except now, The Ghost had said it like a taunt. Like a fact.Her heartbeat slowed as her mind sharpened. This wasn’t just a random contract—this was personal.And if it was personal, it meant she could use it.She exhaled softly, tilting her head back against the chair. There were no visibl
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A Warehouse in the City – 2 AMRyan stood in the center of the abandoned warehouse, his hands curled into fists as he waited. The air smelled of rust, oil, and old concrete, but he barely noticed. His mind was focused on one thing—getting Isabella back.The heavy steel doors groaned open, and a tall figure stepped inside. Clad in a dark trench coat, he moved with the effortless confidence of a man who had been in too many wars to count.Nikolai Sokolov.A legend in the underground world. A mercenary, a weapons dealer, and a ghost in his own right.Ryan had once sworn he’d never ask for Nikolai’s help again. But desperate times called for desperate alliances.Nikolai’s cold blue eyes swept over Ryan before he smirked. “Haven’t seen you in years, Kingston. Thought you were playing the ‘clean life’ these days.”Ryan didn’t have time for small talk. “She was taken.”Nikolai’s smirk faded. “Who?”“Isabella.”The Russian exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders. “And who was stupid enough to t
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Ryan’s War Room – 4:15 AM Ryan’s eyes locked onto the figure stepping out of the shadows. Dante Laurent. A man who had supposedly **died** years ago. And yet, here he stood. **Alive. Breathing. Very much real.** The tension in the room was suffocating. No one moved. No one spoke. Finally, Ryan’s voice cut through the silence. “You’re supposed to be dead.” Dante smirked, his green eyes gleaming with something between amusement and danger. “You’re not the first to say that.” Ryan’s fists clenched. He had **dug** into Isabella’s past—**no records, no leads, no traces** of a surviving brother. If Dante had been alive all this time, **why now? Why appear now?** “Where the hell have you been?” Ryan asked, his voice cold. Dante tilted his head. “Waiting.” Ryan’s patience snapped. “For what?” Dante’s smirk faded. “For the right moment to burn Jonathan Laurent’s empire to the **ground.**” The room tensed. Nikolai let out a low whistle. “Well, shit. Looks like this ju
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The Safe House – 10:45 AMRyan Kingston had seen a lot of things in his life. Betrayals. Bloodshed. Wars that left entire empires in ruins. But nothing had **hit him harder** than the image staring back at him on the screen. **Isabella.** **Standing beside The Ghost.** The timestamp was **two hours ago.** Two hours. This meant that while he was here, strategizing how to bring her back, she was **right there with the enemy.** Nikolai cleared his throat. “I know what you’re thinking.” Ryan’s voice was ice. “Doubt it.” Nikolai exhaled. “Look, I don’t want to stir the pot, but we have to consider the possibility that—” “Don’t.” Ryan’s tone was lethal. Because the **moment** Nikolai suggested Isabella had betrayed them, Ryan wouldn’t be able to stop himself from **putting a bullet in his head.** Dante, who had been silent this entire time, leaned against the desk. “You don’t think she flipped, do you?” Ryan’s jaw clenched. “No.” Dante studied him. “That conf
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The Ghost’s Lair – 1:00 PMIsabella sat frozen, her mind struggling to process what she had just heard."From Ryan Kingston."Her pulse was deafening in her ears.This had to be a lie. A manipulation. A mind game designed to break her.Because Ryan—her Ryan—was many things: ruthless, cold, dangerous.But he wasn’t her enemy.Was he?She inhaled sharply. “You expect me to believe that?”The Ghost—no, the man she once knew—watched her, his expression unreadable.“You don’t have to believe me,” he said smoothly. “But you do have to listen.”Her fists clenched. “Why would I? You wear a mask and hide in the shadows. Ryan never hid from me.”His lips curled. “Oh, Isabella.” His voice softened, almost pitying. “Ryan Kingston has hidden more from you than you can ever imagine.”A chill ran down her spine.She hated how easily he unsettled her.She had to stay in control.“I don’t care what you say,” she said, steel laced in her voice. “I know Ryan. I trust him.”His eyes darkened. “And yet, h
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The Ghost’s Lair – 3:00 PMIsabella couldn’t breathe.Her mind screamed at her to reject what she had just read.Ryan Kingston had been watching her for years.She could still see the bold letters, the cold precision in the reports. Every detail of her life—where she went, who she spoke to, what she loved, what she feared—all documented.But the worst part?The reason written at the bottom of one of the earliest reports."Subject identified as the missing heiress."Her fingers curled around the papers so tightly that the edges dug into her skin.Missing heiress?She wasn’t missing. She wasn’t some long-lost princess from a fairy tale. She had lived an ordinary life, built her success from the ground up—without anyone’s help.Hadn’t she?Her heart pounded as she looked up at The Ghost. “Why are you showing me this?”His gaze was unreadable. “Because you need to know who you’re fighting for.”“I already do.” Her voice was hoarse.The Ghost tilted his head. “Do you?”She hated the way hi
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The Ghost’s Lair – 4:12 PMThe room felt charged, as if the air itself was suffocating under the weight of unspoken words.Ryan’s gun was still raised, smoke curling from the barrel. The Ghost clutched his wounded shoulder, smirking despite the blood seeping between his fingers.But Ryan didn’t care.His focus—his entire world—was Isabella.She stood there, motionless, gripping the file of documents that had sent her world into a spiral. Her eyes flickered between Ryan and the Ghost, between the man who had stolen her away and the one who had never let her go.Only now, she wasn’t sure which was worse.Ryan took a step closer. “Isabella, it’s over. Come here.”Her grip tightened on the papers.Over?How could it be over when everything had just begun?Her voice was barely above a whisper. “You lied to me.”Ryan’s eyes darkened, his stance shifting slightly. “I never lied to you.”She lifted the papers in her hand, her fingers trembling. “Then explain this.”Ryan didn’t move.The Ghost
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Rise Of The Heiress Chapter 142: The Aftermath of a War
The world felt strangely silent.Ryan stood at the edge of the ruined shipping port, the scent of smoke and gunpowder lingering in the air. The waves crashed against the docks, a rhythmic contrast to the chaos that had unfolded just hours ago.Volkov was dead. His empire shattered.And yet, the weight on Ryan’s shoulders refused to lift.Lena stepped beside him, arms crossed. She had patched up the wound on his shoulder, but he could tell she was still watching him with concern.“You’re quiet,” she said.Ryan exhaled, his grip tightening on the railing. “Just thinking.”Dante walked up behind them, rubbing his neck. “We should be celebrating. We pulled off the impossible.”Lena shot him a tired look. “We barely made it out alive.”Dante smirked. “That’s kind of our thing, isn’t it?”Ryan shook his head. “There’s still one loose end.”Lena’s expression darkened. “The leak.”Someone had sold them out before the attack on Volkov’s hideout. Someone had warned him they were coming.And Rya
