How Does 'All The Old Knives' End?

I gave Julian Marchetti thirty years of my life after the war ended. I built his empire, raised his children, and held the family together behind the scenes. But when he died, his will didn’t even mention my name. Half his fortune went to our children. The other half went to Lydia Carter, the daughter of the man who’d saved his life in Normandy. The same Lydia who’d stolen my identity.The same Lydia who’d built her entire life on the ruins of mine. All he left me was a single note, scrawled in his familiar handwriting. I loved you. We had thirty good years. But I owe Lydia. This is the least I can do. I dropped dead of a heart attack right there in his study, clutching that pathetic piece of paper. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn in 1945, when the war had just ended This time I will not swallow my anger and suffer in silence; I will fight back. And I will take back every single thing that is rightfully mine.

Katherine Salazar. A girl from Spain whose life changed the day she first held a knife. She learned early that silence can be sharper than any blade. Her weapon a slender knife, always hidden beneath her clothes. Her adopted parents named her "Ghost Knife". She moved like a shadow—silent, precise, deliberate, clean. As she grew into a woman, her beauty captivated—and haunted— people around her in ways almost impossible to resist. When she took a mission she wasn’t supposed to handle herself, it tore her world apart, everything changed. She was caught by two brutal twin—opposites in behavior, different in power, identical in blood. Instead of ending her life, they chose to use her skills for their own dirty work. But then things got complicated. When both twin fell in love with her. A forbidden love, dangerous and consuming. Her next mission was supposed to be simple: eliminate the twins’ greatest enemy. But the target… was her “dead” father. "Dad?” My voice barely escaped, thick with disbelief, my vision blurred by unshed tears. “Kat?" His voice trembled with shock, more startled than I had ever seen him. In a fluid motion, he lifted his left hand, swift, precise—and the guards froze, stopped as if caught in a web of unseen power. " Y..You , I saw..." My words faltered, the knife quivering in my grip.

Three years into my fake death, my wife and daughter showed up at my door. To get rid of them, I grabbed a knife and threatened to end my life. Then my seven-year-old daughter put her hand on my father's ventilator. Claire Harrison stood beside her, her voice trembling as she delivered her ultimatum. "Wesley, either you see your father suffocate to death, or you come back and be my husband again. Your choice." I was shaking with rage, but I put down the knife and remarried her. Walking back into that familiar villa, I became the Harrison family's model "devoted husband and father." When my foster brother needed her company because he was feeling down, I cleared out and booked myself a hotel. I ended up with a perforated ulcer, went into surgery, and never once called her. When my daughter got picky and said she only wanted her uncle's cooking, I went straight to Dylan's place and brought him back to live with us. Even on my birthday, when Dylan suddenly started crying and said, "I'm so jealous of you, Wesley. You've got such a wonderful wife and kid. Me? I've never even gotten a decent birthday present," I didn't hesitate—I slid the onyx bead bracelet off my wrist and pressed it into his hand. The deep black beads gleamed against his pale skin. But Claire's eyes went red. She grabbed my wrist, her voice sharp as a blade. "Wesley, that was the love token I prayed for you—step by step on my knees—all the way across the Mojave."

Machines of Iron and guns of alchemy rule the battlefields. While a world faces the consequences of a Steam empire. Molag Broner, is a soldier of Remas. A member of the fabled Legion, he and his brothers have long served loyal Legionnaires in battle with the Persian Empire. For 300 years, Remas and Persia have been locked in an Eternal War. But that is about to end. Unbeknown to Molag and his brothers. Dark forces intend to reignite a new war. Throwing Rome and her Legions, into a new conflict

Grace Anderson is a striking young lady with a no-nonsense and inimical attitude. She barely smiles or laughs, the feeling of pure happiness has been rare to her. She has acquired so many scars and life has thought her a very valuable lesson about trust. Dean Ryan is a good looking young man with a sanguine personality. He always has a smile on his face and never fails to spread his cheerful spirit. On Grace's first day of college, the two meet in an unusual way when Dean almost runs her over with his car in front of an ice cream stand. Although the two are opposites, a friendship forms between them and as time passes by and they begin to learn a lot about each other, Grace finds herself indeed trusting him. Dean was in love with her. He loved everything about her. Every. Single. Flaw. He loved the way she always bit her lip. He loved the way his name rolled out of her mouth. He loved the way her hand fit in his like they were made for each other. He loved how much she loved ice cream. He loved how passionate she was about poetry. One could say he was obsessed. But love has to have a little bit of obsession to it, right? It wasn't all smiles and roses with both of them but the love they had for one another was reason enough to see past anything. But as every love story has a beginning, so it does an ending.

Adrian has spent his entire life surrounded by death. As the human executioner of the Demon King, he is the blade that ends traitors, monsters, and enemies of the crown. Cold. Efficient. Unfeeling. At least, that’s what everyone believes. But when the ancient Demon King Vaelreth begins to take an unusual interest in the quiet man who carries out his judgments, something dangerous begins to grow between them. In a world where demons and humans were never meant to stand side by side—let alone feel something deeper—the line between loyalty, obsession, and love begins to blur. And in the Demon Kingdom… Love can be far more dangerous than death.