The Secret Whisperer
Leila, a young Austrian aristocrat and student in Classics, is drawn into a world of conspiracy and danger when her aunt is involved in a suspicious car accident. Leila travels to her aunt’s chalet to take care of her husky, but soon discovers a body in the drawing room. Terrified, she runs out and bumps into Dick, a nosy English banker who becomes entangled in the mystery.
When they return to the drawing room, the body has disappeared. Leila takes the husky for a walk and discovers that the body has been moved to a house recently purchased by another branch of her family. She finds a notebook with encrypted entries in the drawing room and uses her linguistic skills to decode them. She discovers the initials, address, and phone number of someone involved in the plot.
Leila calls the number and is warned against getting involved. Undeterred, she discovers a bizarre research center where a conference on German mystical past is taking place.She suspects that there is a bizarre cult operating underground. Leila learns about their plan to topple every democracy in Europe. The cult is after an artifact that may be hidden in her aunt’s chalet.
However, this is only the tip of the iceberg. Leila discovers that the aristocratic cult members are pawns in a larger game. They are unknowingly being manipulated to cause disruption in the European banking system using an AI virus.The chaos will cause turmoil in the Euro zone.
As Leila and her aunt race against time to stop the virus from being unleashed, they uncover an even more shocking truth: Leila’s own family members are part of the conspiracy. With betrayal and danger at every turn, Leila must use all of her wit to outsmart the cult.
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Chapter: 26Christina’s eyes went dark, like someone had just switched off the chandelier in a grand ballroom. “My father had an old mask in his collection,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s still somewhere in the attic. He used to tell me this wild story about Nazis organizing a secret expedition to find it. He was pleased to have it, of course. You’re telling me it’s a fake?”Dick Jones gave her a look that could’ve cut through stone. “Not quite. Your piece is a replica—at least three hundred years old, according to Yellen. What bothers me is Yellen came here looking for it and ended up dead. Yet the attic didn’t look disturbed. The mask was still there. That’s what makes my skin itch.”A faint cloud of hesitation swept over Christina’s face, and her eyes misted like fogged glass. “Oh my God. That poor man. I can’t stop thinking about him.”Dick didn’t bother softening his words. “I wouldn’t if I were you. It’s likely Yellen came here to kill you. Somebody else intervened. I’ve
Last Updated: 2025-03-24
Chapter: 25Nosy Dick—or rather, Agent Richard Jones—sat at Christina’s Black Forest table, stripping off his black leather gloves like he was settling in for afternoon tea. Snow dripped off his blue puffer coat in mournful little puddles. Wolfie eyed him suspiciously from her spot by the fire, giving the occasional low grumble just to make sure Dick knew where he stood on the guest list.Leila folded her arms and leaned against the 18th century cast iron stove, casually holding the rifle. “You scared the light out of us, Mr Jones. Sneaking around in the dark is a great way to get shot, you know. Or mauled. Wolfie’s pretty territorial about her lounge space.”Dick gave her a weary smirk, not bothering to even glance at the unnerved husky. “You’d be amazed how often I get shot at. Mostly by people more competent than you.” He pulled a neat silver flask from his coat pocket and took a swig, pulling his face as if the whisky had punched him in the throat. “Honestly, I didn’t think I’d have to break
Last Updated: 2025-03-23
Chapter: 24The snow was still falling when Leila pulled the threadbare quilt tighter around her shoulders and glanced over at the notebook lying open on the low table. It looked innocent enough, the cracked leather and yellowed pages giving it the vibe of something that ought to be filled with long-forgotten recipes or notes on which fertilizer worked best for dahlias. But inside she found something else —a mess of Gothic architecture sketches, topographical diagrams and hastily written notes that looked like the fevered scribbling of a medieval cartographer gone mad.“That’s remarkable. Where did you find it?” Christina asked with a notch of suspicion.“Here, in the chalet, in that hidden place I’ve told you about. Wolfie and I were saving the owl that managed to get in through the broken attic window.”Christina leaned closer to the lantern’s dim light, tracing the hasty ink sketch with her finger. The combination of drawings, faint script and crude shapes made the page look like a treasure ma
Last Updated: 2025-03-23
Chapter: 23Leila pulled up to Christina’s hideaway, the car’s headlights slicing through the frostbitten gloom. The house sat hunched against the snow, a dark silhouette of pine and cold secrets. She’d driven fast—too fast for the icy roads—but when your aunt called with that tone, you didn’t stop to admire the scenery. Inside, the room was a furnace. The black iron stove glowed like it was working overtime, and the wood stacked high in the corner promised it wasn’t getting a break anytime soon. Christina was in her usual spot, a blanket over her knees, looking like the queen of a tiny, crumbling empire. Her eyes, though, were sharp and on point, pinning Leila like a hawk spotting prey. “Lock the door,” Christina said. No hello, no pleasantries. Leila did as she was told, the click of the deadbolt echoing louder than it should. “What’s going on?” she asked, pulling off her gloves. She kept her tone light, but her gut was doing flips. Christina didn’t answer right away. Instead, she pulled
Last Updated: 2025-01-30
Chapter: 22That afternoon Leila was waiting for him in wane, as Tom got distracted. His boss decided to pay an unexpected visit. The winter sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting a soft glow through the tinted windows of Tom’s high-tech office when Mikhail Grossman decided to darken the door. The man loomed like a storm cloud in an Armani suit, his scowl deep enough to hide a weapon. “Evening, Mikhail,” Tom said with the ease of a man greeting an old friend rather than a mafia boss who snaps necks like breadsticks. He wondered whether Mikhail Grossman heard the news about Vlad. Tom leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” “Cut the pleasantries, Tomas,” Grossman growled. His voice was a low rumble, the kind that preceded an earthquake. “You know why I’m here. Your work. The Green Dragon virus—you’re going to hand it over. Now.” Tom chuckled and tapped his fingers on the scratched surface of his desk, where beneath lay layers of encrypted
Last Updated: 2025-01-29
Chapter: 21A tiny, no larger than a pack of cigarettes, combat drone silently fell off the roof two floors above the office where Vlad Voronin was glued to the computer screen. It smoothly descended to his window, peeked out stealthily from behind the wall and froze in the upper left corner. The cameras adjusted the focus to Vlad’s stand-alone laptop. The camera was filming the program commands running in a fast line on a black background.The owner of the computer had no idea about all that. He was busy with the guest. Smiling snottily, Voronin pulled the flash drive out of the laptop and put it inside a small brown envelope.‘That’s perfect,’ he patted his guest on the shoulder.‘I have to return it,’ the guest muttered nervously stretching out his hand. ‘My share, as agreed?’‘Don’t worry,’ Voronin frowned. ‘Assume that you don’t owe us anything anymore. '‘Fine. You have to give me a receipt. For the records.’‘OK,OK. You’ve become too suspicious, Ash,’ Vlad pulled out a four-fold piece of p
Last Updated: 2025-01-29
The Vision She Hid
She pretended not to see. He pretended not to care. Now the whole mafia clan watching them burn.
When Leo Christofides saved a man’s life, she lost everything—her sight, her future as a prima ballerina, and her freedom. For two years, she’s lived in darkness, relying on the man who once promised to be her eyes. But when her vision returned, the first thing she sees is betrayal: her fiancé tangled up with her nurse, wearing the same smile he used to give only to Leo.
Before Leo can escape this nightmare, she’s handed over like a pawn in a blood-soaked stand-off between two gangs. She is sold to an attractive, enigmatic mafia boss with a gun on his hip and secrets in his eyes. His name is Vic, and he introduces her to his clan not as a hostage but as his wife.
Now Leo must play blind in a house full of killers, where power is the only hard currency and trust is a suicide. But she’s not the helpless girl Hermano thinks she is. Leo has a dark secret of her own. She is watching. Waiting. The next move is hers, and it can be deadly.
The Vision She Hid is a dark, seductive thriller dripping in secrets and slow-burn heat, where power struggle meets mafia romance with a blade between its teeth.
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Chapter: 139The room felt stuffy. Not because anybody moved in but because the air gave up circulating around rude people. The champagne sweated like it owed money to a gangster squad. The sashimi was starting to shine in a way that made your appetite shrink. The lawyers didn’t blink anymore; they looked awake in that reptile way men get when they smell a fat contract forming in all that cigarette smoke.Lucia watched Elky like he was a chess piece she hadn’t used yet. Elky’s jaw was getting tight. His shoulders had a stiffness I knew too well. The kind that says a guy is one shove from putting his fist into something expensive.“Ok, ok, mother. Lets be straight with each other. You spread the results of fake trials,” he said. “You faked scientific data. You bloody faked everything. And you expect us to trust you?”Eljy’s voice had a wide range, but now he kept it low. It sounded worse than shouting. Shouting is like a storm. A calm fury like his was a concealed knife.Lucia gave him a long, pati
Last Updated: 2025-12-11
Chapter: 138I have to say, the conversation got kinda more exciting. It wasn’t getting any friendlier though. The toro sat on Lucia’s plate like a bribe nobody wanted to take. The champagne sweated in the bucket. Lucia watched me over the rim of her glass. And the two lawyers watched Lucia like two beta males watching their alpha making a fool of himself. Elky, too, watched the space in front of him like someone had taken his past and hung it there for inspection.“Ok, ok. Since you’re in an evidence mood,” Lucia said at last, “we might as well look at the ghost you’ve been chasing all this time.”She turned her head a notch. The French lawyer got the signal and reached somewhere behind his chair. He lifted a slim black tablet case with his two pale fingers, the way you handle something contaminated with deadly poison. He laid it on the table between us, rotated it so it faced me, and tapped the screen.The tablet woke up. A familiar header slid into view. Δ-12 ADVERSE EVENT SUMMARY. Underneath,
Last Updated: 2025-12-10
Chapter: 137The champagne was cold enough to make a silver bucket sweat. That was about the only cold thing in the room. The heat was in the air, and it was about to melt down our confidence big time. Stunning Lucia Jennings lifted her glass, still smiling that soft, reasonable smile that had signed more death warrants than the Roman procurator. The two lawyers watched her like altar boys waiting for the bell to ring. Elky sat beside me with his hands flat on his knees, the way men usually sit when they want everyone to know they’re not reaching for a gun yet.I set my little LV purse on my lap and fussed with the clasp like I thought I might freshen my lipstick up. My thumb found a tiny button inside the clasp. One click. No light, no sound. Just a small vibration that told me the mic was awake and ready to earn its upkeep.Risky move if Lucia was smart enough to notice. Then again, if she had noticed I was as good as dead. Then the recording would be the least of my problems.I hung the purse
Last Updated: 2025-12-09
Chapter: 136I caught myself thinking that even if Elky was right, and “they” were really fighting with pens, “they” seem to excel in it. That morning Palermo had the kind of heat that didn’t come from the sun. It came from very old grudges and even older engines and the kind of air that took its time crawling off the warm water. You walked through it like through a sauna room. Even the seagulls looked fed up.Elky and I had been pretending to rest in the hotel lobby — the sort of lobby that smelled of too new leather. The hotel staff accustomed to talk softly because the walls had been known to have particularly good hearing. We sat in matching, fancy brown armchairs that probably had names. Mine felt like it didn’t want me there.The receptionist was a small girl with dark Sicilian hair and soft brown, old-soul eyes. She approached us with a practiced smile that was all tact and polish but somehow felt like a fruit that’d gone bad on the inside. She held a cream envelope between two fingers with
Last Updated: 2025-12-05
Chapter: 135The storm came in sideways over the hills. You could hear the vines complaining through the old stone. Christofides house held the noise the way it held everything else—behind thick walls, under a roof that had seen more convincing threats. We had taken the long dining table away from food. No plates, no candles. Just laptops, printouts, three cold coffee pots, and enough wires to trip a small army. The crystal chandelier above us looked confused. It was built for weddings and gala dinners, not for corporate autopsies. I sat halfway down the table with a stack of shipping logs on my right and a legal pad on my left. The pad stayed mostly clean. The logs did all the talking. Novazene LLC. Novazene Holdings. NovaZ Therapeutics. Then the same thing in Maltese, Cypriot, Greek, and whatever language tax men can dream of. Corporate addresses in Wilmington, Valetta, and Limassol. One phone number that rang in Zurich but nobody picked up. Nicos sat at the head of the table because he a
Last Updated: 2025-11-23
Chapter: 134There was an obscure modern building on the edge of Buenos Aires. It felt the way a bad idea sits at the edge of a man’s mind—half in shadow, half pushing him to do stupid things. That white container building used to be a language school. You could still see the painted vowels under the sun-bleached posters for “Phase II: Community Renewal.” A row of white plastic chairs lined the clean enough corridor, the kind you find in underfunded government offices. They creaked despair even when nobody sat on them.Inside, the fluorescent hummed like old men bad dream. The white tiles were cracked in the lazy way tiles crack when nobody expects the flooring to make a good impression. A woman in a blue hairnet pushed a mop around without bending her back too much. She’d seen better messes; this didn’t scare her off.Room 4 smelled of antiseptic and sweat. The fan on the ceiling spun slow and lazy. A man in his thirties sat on the metal cot with his hands clenched between his knees. His legs sho
Last Updated: 2025-11-23
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