Novels by Amaka

The helicopters had finally retreated, their rhythmic thrum fading into the distance like a dying heartbeat. Silas had managed to scramble a "No-Fly Zone" through his legal contacts in Abuja, but the peace it brought to the villa was brittle. It felt like the silence after a car crash—ringing, heavy, and full of ghosts.I found Julian on the private stretch of beach behind the villa. The moon hung like a silver sickle over the Bight of Benin, casting a ghostly glow over the white sand. He had stripped off his tactical vest and his torn linen shirt, sitting on a massive piece of driftwood that looked like the skeleton of a prehistoric beast.I didn't say anything. I just sat beside him, the sand cool and gritty beneath my palms. In the moonlight, the scars on his back—the jagged, systematic "Sequence 4" marks from his time at the De Luca clinic—looked like a roadmap of a war I was only beginning to understand."You should be inside, Elara," he whispered, his voice a jagged rasp that bar

The helicopter didn't land. It hovered like a mechanical dragonfly, its rotors whipping the humid air into a frenzy that shredded the hibiscus petals in the garden below. I stood by the nursery window, my hands pressed against the vibrating glass, watching the black-clad figures rappel down thin, silver lines."Elara, get away from the glass! Now!" Julian’s voice wasn't a request; it was a command that sliced through the roar of the engines.I didn't move fast enough. A flashbang detonated on the terrace, a blooming flower of white phosphorus that turned the world into a blinding, silent void. My ears rang with a high-pitched whine, and for a terrifying ten seconds, I was back in the De Luca basement, waiting for the lights to come back on.Then, a pair of strong, calloused hands grabbed my waist and hauled me into the hallway just as the nursery window shattered inward, raining diamonds of tempered glass onto the crib where Leo had been sleeping only moments before."He's safe," Juli

The morning air in Benin was thick, heavy with the scent of ozone and the salt of the Atlantic. In the distance, a storm was brewing, dark clouds bruising the horizon. It felt like a mirror to the chaos currently unfolding on every social media platform in West Africa."They're calling it the 'Vane-De Luca Blood Scandal,'" Silas said, his voice cutting through the humid silence of the villa’s study. He was staring at a wall of monitors, his face illuminated by the flickering data of a thousand news cycles. "Isabella didn't just leak the files, Elara. She’s framing the narrative. She’s telling the world that Julian 'stole' the genetic material to create a super-heir."I looked at Julian. He was sitting on the edge of the stone terrace, his head in his hands. The bandages on his shoulder were slightly pink—a sign that the stress was physical as much as mental."I didn't steal him," Julian whispered, his voice a jagged rasp. "I protected him. I spent five years in a concrete basement so

The morning in the Republic of Benin arrived with a deceptive, golden peace. The Atlantic was a shimmering sheet of mercury, and the air smelled of salt and the heavy, sweet scent of wet hibiscus. For a few hours, the villa felt like a dream—a place where Elara Bliss wasn't a fugitive and Julian Vane wasn't a phantom.I stood in the kitchen, watching the steam rise from a cup of bitter black coffee. My lips still burned from Julian’s kiss on the terrace—a kiss that had tasted like a confession."He’s still sleeping," a low, gravelly voice said behind me.I turned to see Silas. He was dressed in a dark linen shirt, but his eyes were fixed on a tablet screen that was glowing with the frantic red of breaking news alerts. He didn't look like a man on vacation; he looked like a general watching his front lines collapse."The fever broke an hour ago," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Julian is resting. Silas, what’s happening in Lagos? Why are you looking at the horizon like the wor

The villa in the Republic of Benin was a sanctuary of white stone and crawling bougainvillea, hidden from the world by a high perimeter wall and the constant, rhythmic roar of the Atlantic Ocean. Leo was finally asleep in a room that didn't smell like antiseptic, his small chest rising and falling in the first peaceful sleep he’d had in years.I couldn't sleep. The silence was too loud after the sirens of Owerri. I found Julian on the wide stone terrace, his silhouette a jagged, dark line against the silver moonlight reflecting off the waves.He was staring at his hands—the hands that had performed Josh’s "experiments," and the hands that had held Leo’s wooden blocks in the fire. His bandages were stark white against his skin, a reminder of the price he had paid to pull us out of the dark."The fever is down, Julian," I said softly, stepping onto the terrace. I had swapped my power suit for a simple cotton wrap, the sea breeze cool against my skin. "You should be resting. Silas’s doct

The rain wasn't just falling; it was an assault. It drummed against the windows of the Federal Medical Centre, blurring the world into a grey, watery cage. Downstairs, the screech of tires and the slamming of car doors signaled the arrival of the De Luca "cleaners.""They have a court order, Silas," I whispered, my hand trembling as I checked Leo’s pulse. He was still sleeping, oblivious to the fact that his entire identity had just become a legal battlefield. "They’re calling him 'State Property.'"Silas didn't panic. He reached into his coat and pulled out a encrypted satellite phone. "They’re calling him an asset. I’m calling him my nephew." He spoke into the phone, his voice like cold iron. "Alpha Lead, the LZ is the roof. Two minutes. Total blackout protocol. If anyone tries to intercept the lift, neutralize the signal.""We can't leave Julian," I said, looking at the bed.Julian had struggled into a sitting position, his face pale beneath the bandages. "Go, Elara. If they find m