Riley Ross - Chapter 175: Club

For Marco, Lucas is his meek little brother. For the rest of the world, he is the menacing Ghost of Vermil.“Angels endow blessings. Demons sow curses.” A hundred years ago, angels and demons descended on earth. It is said they are still here.Annointed with potent holy power, Marco is set to join the Kingdom's Holy Army to fight off the demonic legion. But before that, he must confront the trail of blood and ash that points to Lucas's involvement with the dark side.As mysteries unfold and loyalties fracture, Marco is faced with the question: where does holiness end and damnation begin? If all lines are blurred and the fate of humanity is at stake, will he have enough resolve to strike down the brother he once swore to protect?

Tristan never thought his life would lead where he would be signing all his freedom away, makeup masking his true identity, and walking toward a bond he never agreed to. All to protect his family and survive a world that thought little of him.Alpha King Mitch is powerful, feared, and completely uninterested in love. For him, this is just another duty—an arranged union meant to quiet the pack elders. But when their eyes meet, something shifts. Tristan feels it, even if he’s terrified of what it might mean.Tangled in secrets and bound by a lie, Tristan must navigate a fragile dance between duty and desire… all while hiding the one truth that could destroy everything.

CONTENT WARNING:/This novel contains mature themes, explicit sexual content, strong language, and adult situations. Reader discretion is advised./---She ran from the devil who raised her…And married the one who wore a crown.After her parents’ tragic death, Lydia Andreyevna’s life became a nightmare. Stripped of her name, inheritance, and freedom by her uncle—Lord Alexander—she was treated like property and promised to a Count four times her age.Desperate to escape, she fled into the cold night… and straight into blood.A stranger. Wounded. Beautiful. Terrifying.She should’ve left him.But she didn’t.She touched him once—and fate branded her forever.Her uncle caught her the next morning. Her escape failed. But when she begged Queen Olga for protection, the Queen offered her a deadly bargain:Marry the masked Grand Duke of Zolotaria.The king’s hunting dog. The butcher of the East. The devil in a crown.The man feared by kings.The heir to the throne.The same man she once saved.Ivan Romanov.They say he bathes in blood. That he kills without blinking. That he conquered kingdoms with a smile behind a mask. That no one sees his face—and lives.Some call him the devil. Others call him Death’s favorite son.But behind the mask is the same man she found dying in the dark.The same voice that haunted her dreams.The same hands she once held.Now, he’s her husband.Her jailer.Her obsession.She doesn’t know if she’s his prisoner, or his weakness.Cold and untouchable, Ivan doesn’t share his bed. Doesn’t share his secrets. But she sees it—the hunger in his eyes. The pain in his silence. The way he looks at her like she’s the only thing keeping his demons at bay.She should fear him.She should hate him.But the moment she dares to take off his mask… it’s already too late.Because Ivan wants her—her fire, her body, her heart.And in his world, what he wants, he keeps.Even if it means burning down the kingdom.She thought she was running from hell.She ended up in his bed.And the most dangerous thing of all?She doesn’t want to leave.

Welcome to NecroCorp – Where War is Always in Stock!“Now with 15% off main battle tanks, because peace is bad for business.”Hello, traveler!Looking for a bone-forged sword? A modular mana cannon? Perhaps... a discounted main battle tank for your next kingdom raid?Oh wait, you're not a customer, you're a reader.Right. This is probably where I give you my “tragic backstory.” Fine.I used to be human.Then I died.Now I'm a Lich with a factory in a dead dungeon, a skeleton workforce that doesn't need lunch breaks, salaries, and a magical system that rewards me for selling stuff. So, I did what any sane undead would do: I started an arms corporation.Now I sell weapons to orcs, goblins, elves, humans, anyone with a grudge and a pile of magic stones. Need siege engines? Got 'em. Crossbows that reload themselves? Yup. Flamethrower golems? In development.But here's the trick: you can’t sell weapons if there’s no war.So when the world started calming down... well, I may have encouraged a few border skirmishes. For marketing purposes. Nothing personal. War drives demand, after all.So, if you're here for drama, explosions, undead capitalism, and morally questionable business strategies wrapped in bone and steel, you’ve come to the right dungeon.Just don’t ask about the warranty.There isn’t one that lived to tell and ask about it.