Novels by Confidence C. Eze

The second kiss happened because they broke a rule.Not the obvious one.It was the quieter rule, the one neither of them had spoken aloud but both had been obeying, don’t be alone when things feel like they might tip.They failed at that around eleven thirty on a Tuesday night.Rain pressed against the windows of Lena’s office, blurring the city into streaks of silver and shadow. The flash drive lay on her desk like a loaded question, its contents now cataloged, cross-checked, and locked behind layers of encryption that only two people in the building understood.Her and Eli.He stood by the window, jacket off, sleeves rolled, tie loosened just enough to suggest fatigue rather than carelessness. The day had taken something out of him. She could see it in the way his shoulders sloped when he thought she wasn’t looking.“You should go,” she said, not unkindly.He didn’t turn. “In a minute.”She waited. Counted breaths. The hum of the city felt louder tonight, closer. As if the world we

The first thing Lena noticed was the silence.Not the peaceful kind but the intentional kind. Phones unanswered. Sources suddenly busy. Emails that bounced back with polite errors that didn’t feel accidental.Someone had closed ranks.She stood in her apartment kitchen, coffee cooling untouched on the counter, eyes fixed on her laptop as if it might blink first. The map on her wall had grown denser over the past few days more lines, more notes, more questions but the center remained stubbornly empty.The method without a face.It was working, whatever it was doing. That was the problem.Her phone buzzed.ELI: You’re being boxed in.She didn’t bother asking how he knew.LENA: I noticed.ELI: That wasn’t meant to sound smug.LENA: It didn’t. It sounded worried.A pause.ELI: Are you?She considered lying. Considered deflecting. Instead, she typed the truth.LENA: I’m alert.ELI: Good. Stay that way.She closed the laptop with more force than necessary and grabbed her coat. Sitting still

The next week unfolded like a dare neither of them had spoken aloud.Lena worked harder than she had in months long hours, sharper questions, fewer distractions. Or at least fewer obvious ones. Eli kept his distance exactly as promised. No surprise appearances. No late-night texts. No gentle interventions unless she asked for them.Which, irritatingly, made her think about him more.She chased influence the way she’d said she would. Not money trails those were too easy to obscure but outcomes. Decisions that shifted quietly. Projects stalled without explanation. Communities spared because someone, somewhere, had nudged a lever at the right moment.She built a map on her office wall. Photos. Names. Lines in red and black. Patterns emerged, not clean but compelling.At the center was a blank space.Not a name. Not a company.A method.That unsettled her more than any villain ever had.By Thursday, Marcus stopped by her desk with two coffees and a look that meant trouble. “You’re circlin

Lena didn’t invite Eli inside.She stood in the hallway with her door locked behind her, phone still in her hand, adrenaline fading into something colder and more deliberate. Fear sharpened her instincts, but it didn’t cloud them. If anything, it clarified what she already knew.This wasn’t random anymore.“You knew they’d come,” she said into the phone.“Yes,” Eli answered. No hesitation. No denial.She closed her eyes briefly. “Then you used me as bait.”A long pause. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, steadier, as if he were choosing each word with care. “I used myself as bait. You were collateral and that’s on me.”“That’s not comforting.”“It’s honest.”She leaned her forehead against the cool wall. “Start talking, Eli. I’m done being managed.”“I can’t give you names yet,” he said. “But I can give you motive.”“Go on.”“There’s a group inside E.C. Holdings that doesn’t know I exist,” he said. “They think the company is leaderless. Automated. Easy to steer.”“And you let t

Lena didn’t sleep that night.She lay on her back, staring at the faint crack in her ceiling that looked like a map to nowhere, replaying the warehouse in her mind. The order of the files. The careful way the damage had been limited but never erased. Whoever was behind it hadn’t acted like a hero and hadn’t acted like a villain either.That was what unsettled her most.By morning, she was running on stubbornness and caffeine. She showered, dressed, and tried to organize Eli Carter into a mental box labeled useful but unreliable source. It was a lie, but it was one she could work with.At the office, the air felt different. Conversations dropped when she walked past. Her editor, Marcus, waved her into his glass-walled office without his usual sarcasm.“You stir something up this week?” he asked, folding his arms.“Define ‘stir,’” Lena replied, taking a seat.“You’ve had two requests for reassignment,” he said. “And one polite inquiry from legal asking whether you’re ‘comfortable’ with

Lena didn’t like coincidences. She trusted them even less.By Thursday, she had three cups of coffee in her system, a wall of digital notes open on her laptop, and a growing sense that someone was rearranging the truth just ahead of her reach.E.C. Holdings refused to resolve into anything solid. Every time she tugged a thread, it slid sideways into something adjacent, subsidiaries dissolving into consultancies, consultancies folding into nonprofits, nonprofits quietly acquiring land. It was elegant. Annoyingly so. Whoever was behind it understood scrutiny the way chess masters understood sacrifice.She paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard.Someone wants me to see part of the picture, she thought. Just not all of it.Her phone buzzed. A message from a number she didn’t recognize.UNKNOWN: You’re looking at the wrong door.She stared at the screen. Journalists got cryptic tips all the time. Most were nonsense. Some were traps. A few were gold.She typed back.LENA: And you know t