Disaster Apocalypse: Farming, Family, and My Hidden Secret Space - Chapter 128. Eager to return home

Augustus Cross was a man close to his 30s with nothing to his name. People rolled their eyes at the seemingly useless man and he remained helpless even as his daughter was at the brink of death.When all hope seemed lost, the hidden dragon within him was unleashed when the seal broke accidentally as his birthmark was stained with his own blood. Knowledge of ancient arts filled his subconscious, granting him powers to cure his daughter and other incurable illnesses.A man who was once looked down by everyone is unstoppable now. What lies beyond this man with the power he now possesses?

Cheated on by her fiancé weeks before their wedding, Sara, vowed to never love again. Men could not be trusted, especially with a woman's heart. She had made the mistake once, and that was more than enough for her. Never again would she make the same mistake to give her heart to another.But her resolve began to waver when she came across her new boss, Alexander Legend, a man whose reputation in his expertise and ruthlessness in business preceded him. Respected and feared by many, but to Sara, he was an annoying pest she wished she never met. Too persisted for her liking yet, she finds herself falling, slowly melting in his presence. Getting used to his stolen kisses and hugs and sometimes anticipating them.°°°°°Excerpts“You will fall for me, Sara. One day, I'll have your heart too,” Alex drawled. His voice had a seductive allure that had her heart racing. The fact that his hand was leisurely resting around her waist didn't help her either.“Try as much as you want to,” despite her body begging for his touch, Sara was determined to reject him today and any other day. She couldn't make the same mistake again. “You won't succeed in your seduction. NOT NOW. NOT EVER.”Alex smirked, kissed behind her ear and her body trembled, much to his satisfaction. That was all he needed to keep purising the stubborn woman in his arms right now. “We shall see, Miss Ambrose,” he cooed and then released her. He returned to his seat and asked in a professional tone. “What is my schedule for today?”

“The Second Cult Leader and the Prophet of the Voodooists died during the Holy War seven years ago.”

Florence Academy was a prestigious clergy academy.

“Now that the Voodooists are considered as a cult, who is the Third Cult Leader, where are they now, and what are they up to?”

Only I knew the answer to this question.

The Third Cult Leader was a freshman at Florence Academy. He was here, standing amongst the others in the auditorium.

How do I know this, you ask?

Because I’m the Cult Leader.

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