Novels by Solomon O

The Knight estate loomed like something carved from another century—stone walls softened by ivy, tall windows glowing against the dusk, and a driveway lined with lanterns that spilled pale light across the gravel. Cass had expected wealth; she hadn’t expected this kind of quiet authority. Old money whispered from every brick.She adjusted her coat as she stepped out of the car, her heels crunching softly against the path. She wasn’t here by choice, not really. An invitation from Leo Knight was rarely just that—it was layered, deliberate, a chess move wrapped in charm. And yet, she’d accepted.The door opened before she reached it. A man stood there, tall, spare, and elegant in a black suit cut with precision. His eyes flicked over her once, sharp but unreadable. Not unkind, but assessing—like a man who had seen too much to be fooled easily.“Miss Blake,” he said, his voice low, modulated, with the faintest trace of an old-world accent. “Welcome. Mr. Knight is expecting you.”Cass incl

The city at night had its language—a low hum of traffic, the occasional wail of a distant siren, the muffled clink of glasses from bars still open past reason. Cass walked along the narrow stretch of pavement outside her building, jacket pulled tighter against the wind. She’d left her laptop open upstairs, Calderón’s face frozen mid-sentence on the paused feed, but the weight in her chest wasn’t from the investigation. It was from knowing Leo Knight had been sitting across from him. She tried to replay every conversation she’d had with him since they met. The casual remarks, the carefully measured smiles, the moments that felt like honesty but now looked more like misdirection. She was good at spotting lies—she’d built her career on it—but with Leo, she wasn’t sure if she’d been blind… or if he was simply better than most. A shadow moved at the corner of her vision, and she turned to see him leaning casually against a lamppost like he’d been there all along. No phone in hand, no di

Cass waited until the deadbolt clicked behind her before she set the envelope on her coffee table. The apartment was quiet—too quiet. Even the city’s usual hum seemed muffled through the rain streaking her windows. She sat, letting her fingers hover over the silver-inked initials. Whoever had sent this hadn’t just known her name—they’d known her real one. Not the polished, harmless Cass Blake everyone met in daylight. The flap opened without resistance. Inside was a single sheet of matte black paper, the message printed in faint grey type, like a whisper in ink: You’re not the only one watching. You’ve got forty-eight hours before someone decides your past isn’t worth hiding. No signature. No mark. But the phrasing… sharp, precise. It reminded her of the way Leo Knight spoke—only this was colder, less amused. Her mind moved fast—cross-referencing jobs, old contacts, burned clients—but there were too many possibilities. She turned the page over, and a smaller slip of paper fell

The footsteps were almost on them. Leo shoved Jax flat against the cold wall, one arm braced protectively in front of him. “Don’t make a sound,” he breathed. The woman’s shadow appeared first—tall, lean, deliberate. She moved like someone who had hunted in places far darker than this. The faintest metallic click whispered across the server room—the safety flicking off. Leo’s pulse roared in his ears. He could feel her gaze, sharp and unflinching even in the dark. Then, without warning, the room exploded in light. White security strobes blazed from the ceiling, triggered by some unseen failsafe. Both Leo and the woman flinched, but she recovered first, snapping her aim toward him. The shot never came. Jax, trembling but determined, hurled his laptop bag straight at her head. It wasn’t graceful—it wasn’t even particularly accurate—but it was enough to throw her off balance for a second. That second was all Leo needed. He launched forward, slamming into her midsection, both of t

The room was swallowed in sudden darkness, the hum of the servers cutting off mid-breath. Leo’s pulse spiked—not from the dark, but from the precision of it. Power outages were messy. This was surgical. “Jax?” he called. “Already on backup,” Jax’s voice came from somewhere to his left, calm but clipped. “This wasn’t random. Someone cut the feed.” A thin beam of emergency light flickered on, bathing the room in a cold, unnatural glow. Leo’s gaze flicked to the now-dead security camera. Its single red eye had gone dark, but he could still feel it watching. His phone buzzed again. Same number. Same faceless message. This is your last warning. Jax leaned over his shoulder, scanning the words. “That’s not a bluff, Knight. Whoever this is… they were already inside before I started digging. That’s why the walls were so thick—they weren’t keeping me out, they were keeping everyone out.” Leo’s jaw tightened. “Except they noticed when we slipped through.” The silence that followed wasn’

Cass sat at her desk, the glow of her laptop screen washing over her face in pale blue light. The apartment was silent except for the faint hum of the fan and the quiet clicking of her keyboard. She wasn’t working on a client project—this was personal.Lines of code scrolled rapidly across the screen, each command pulling her deeper into a system she had no business touching. Phoenix Analytics had the best cybersecurity in the private sector because it built it. And tonight, she was about to bypass one of her firewalls.Her phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number: “Stop poking around, Cass.”Her pulse skipped. She hadn’t told anyone what she was doing. She typed back: Who is this?The reply came instantly. “A friend. Or a problem, depending on your next move.”Cass’s jaw tightened. She wasn’t easily intimidated, but this wasn’t random. Whoever it was had access—not just to her online activity, but to her private life. She minimized her work and leaned back, thinking.She had on