Novel-novel oleh J. Cross

AvelineTHE GRAND ballroom of the Villa d’Este on Lake Como was a sea of glittering crystal chandeliers, gilded arches, and towering floral arrangements of white orchids.Classical violin music floated gracefully over the hum of low conversation from Europe’s most powerful corporate elites, diplomats, and high-society figures.Through the floor-to-ceiling glass doors, the dark, calm waters of Lake Como reflected the warm terrace lights, creating an illusion of peaceful elegance.Underneath the glamour, the air was sharp with lethal tension.Every waiter carrying silver champagne trays was a trained security operative. Every discreetly placed guard along the perimeter balconies carried suppressed firearms beneath their tailored tuxedos.Alejandro and I had arrived in Northern Italy under absolute secrecy four hours ago.By hosting this exclusive, high-society maritime summit, publicizing our presenc

AvelineTHE SUBTERRANEAN war room inside Alejandro’s high-security mountain compound in Lucerne was cold, silent, and illuminated by the blue glow of glowing tactical monitors.Outside, a light alpine snow dusted the pine trees, but inside, the atmosphere burned with laser-focused intensity.Maps of Southern European maritime routes, financial flowcharts, and satellite tracking feeds covered the wide digital screens mounted along the reinforced concrete walls.For seven years, I had been a pawn—hiding in closets, fleeing through dark streets, and praying that the shadows of my past wouldn't swallow me whole.Not anymore.I stood at the central glass command table, wearing a dark fitted blazer and trousers, my burgundy hair swept back into a tight, practical knot.In my hands, I held an encrypted military tablet linked directly to the core databases of the Dela Costa master ledger.A

SebThe high-ceilinged study of the Villa d’Este on Lake Como felt like an ornate marble tomb.Outside the heavy arched windows, a dense gray mist hung over the still, dark water.Inside, the quiet was broken only by the crackle of a dying log in the stone fireplace and the soft, steady scratch of my pen against thick parchment.I sat behind a heavy walnut desk, reviewing the financial transfers from our newly acquired Southern shipping routes.Don Bernardo was locked in the basement vault in Naples. His capos were either dead or working for my private payroll.The entire Southern territory was now under my direct control.Yet, I felt no victory. I felt no peace.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Belarina standing on the marble stairs of the burning villa in Geneva, pointing a pistol straight at my chest.I heard her sweet, steady voice telling me she loved Alejandro Vance with her entire soul.

SebTHE MIDNIGHT rain over Naples tasted of salt, ash, and heavy diesel fuel.I stood on the glass balcony of the Moretti syndicate headquarters in the heart of the harbor district, watching my tactical mercenaries drag three dead bodies across the wet cobblestones below.The dark red blood mixed with the rain, washing straight down the iron storm drains into the bay.Inside my chest, there was no fear, no hesitation, and no regret.I had left Geneva in ruins. I had seen Belarina standing on the grand staircase, pointing a pistol at my heart, declaring her total love for Alejandro Vance.She had chosen his light over my dark. She had chosen to stand beside the son of her father’s victim rather than step back into my arms.“I despise you, Sebastian.”Her words burned through my blood like pure acid, burning away the last thread of human mercy left in my soul. If she wa

AvelineThe safehouse high in the Swiss Alps was silent except for the low crackle of wood burning in the stone fireplace.Outside, thick snow drifted down against the heavy glass windows, insulating the secluded cabin from the rest of the world.Inside, the room smelled of dry timber, pine, and lingering smoke.I sat on the edge of the large plush sofa, my knees pulled tightly to my chest, wearing a thick wool sweater and dark leggings.My hands wrapped around a glass of water, but I couldn't bring myself to drink.Alejandro stood near the fireplace, his back turned to me. His dark navy shirt was unbuttoned, exposing the fresh white bandages wrapping his ribs and shoulder. He stared into the dancing flames, his broad shoulders stiff, his body rigid as stone.He hadn't spoken a single word to me during the two-hour drive from the estate ruins to the mountains.The silence between us was heavier than any ocean,

AvelineI stood beside a temporary medical tent on the muddy driveway, staring at what remained of Villa Vance.The grand estate was gone. Only blackened stone walls, collapsed sections of the roof, and smoking rubble remained where my new life had once stood.Dozens of emergency vehicles filled the grounds. Blue and red lights from Swiss tactical police and federal authorities flashed through the damp morning fog.Officers in dark tactical gear moved between the ruins, clearing debris while search dogs worked through the wreckage.I barely noticed any of it.My eyes were fixed on Alejandro.He stood several yards away beside a folding metal table that had been turned into a temporary command desk. He had refused medical evacuation to a hospital. His dark navy shirt was stained with soot and blood, hanging open over the gauze wrapped around his chest and shoulder.He looked exhausted.But that was not wh