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: 94We had to make it alive to the “tomorrow at dawn” to take over Jennings empire. Council wouldn’t care if we are dead or alive if we don’t turn up. It didn’t look that promising. Whomever organized the assault was good at it, and we were running out of places to hide. Midnight snapped like a bad violin string and the house answered with security sirens. Red strobes licked the ceiling and turned the study into an emergency chapel—Adriatic blue washed in arterial light. The first shot came from the Soyth of formal gardens, a flat crack that made the window glass flinch. It didn’t break though. Elky was already on the move, jacket open, hand on steel, the calm of a man who keeps his pulse in a locked drawer.“South fence cut,” a voice rasped over the comms—one of his guards, the one who always sounded like neurotic robot in distress. “Thermals show three vans breaking in. They are likely armored. East hedge line breached. Looks like they are heading to the vault.”“You have another vault?
Last Updated: 2025-08-14
Chapter: 93“Brother,” he purred, and there it was—the affectionate contempt of someone who practiced being an only child in a house full of strangers. “You inherit ashes; I inherit fire. That’s the deal, bro.”Behind him, workers doused a container. It sloshed onto the polished concrete flooring.“Keep the girl if you must, loser,” Andros said. “But stay out of my ports.”He gestured with the match—a conductor leading an orchestra of morons—and someone struck a torch. The container bloomed into heat. The thermal camera overlay flickered, numbers climbing like a fever. A man in a lab coat—God help us, a chemist—shouted from somewhere off screen, voice cracking the way men’s voices do when their paycheck doesn’t clear: “Formula traces!”Panic unspooled. Workers swore in three languages and ran in one. Flames licked up the container’s ribs, ecstatic and indiscreet. You could smell the plastic through the dancing pixels.Andros turned to the lens, face lanterned by hellish flames. He smiled the way
Last Updated: 2025-08-13
Chapter: 92The lights came on one by one, motion sensors reacting to the only motion that mattered. It was like watching a church wake up for midnight mass—if the congregation were soldering stations, conveyor belts, and the dubious equipment that made your fingerprints itch just by looking at it.Copper coils hung where silk skeins used to live. Servo arms rested in their cradles like dangerous birds pretending to be tame. Conveyor belts ran nowhere, waiting for orders. Vision rigs blinked, adjusted, blinked again. There were glass microfluidic chips under the glow of cold LEDs, delicate as snowflakes briefed in chaos theory.The hum wasn’t that loud; it just had the presence of something permanent, like silence you find in a chapel after the priest’s gone home and God’s still deciding whether to answer your prayer.Elky didn’t introduce the place. He just walked into it like a man walking into an intimate part of himself he didn’t show to strangers. His coat brushed the edge of a table covered
Last Updated: 2025-08-12
Chapter: 91Then I saw Andros, young, fresh, with dark eyes that looked already dead. He entered frame and he didn’t see the lens. He went to the desk, scanned something, and slipped a keycard into his jacket. His face didn’t change. He left.“Look at the date,” Elky said. “Do you notice something peculiar?”I looked more carefully, putting two and two together in my head. Then I realised what Elky meant: the date-stamp told a simple truth: the night before Rupert’s “accident.”Elky froze the frame. The projector whirred, a small machine carrying a heavy silence. The room smelled like hot dust and old wool carpet and the kind of sweat you can’t shower off.“Rupert kept keycards to the floodgates?” I asked, because if you don’t crack a joke, grief thinks it can move in.“Uh-huh, he was a controlling type, our grandpa. Only he had keys to things. In fact, to pretty much everything: logistics, vaults, server rooms. The old guy loved to be in charge,” he said, catching himself before a word slipped o
Last Updated: 2025-08-11
Chapter: 90“Of course they know it,” I said. I had no doubts who it was.Elky reached for the whiskey he’d poured and abandoned earlier. He didn’t drink it. He looked at the glass like it had a face he recognized in a crowd.“There’s a reason I brought you back here,” he said.“Let me guess. Because running is for people who can afford new names?” I said.“That’s also a part of it. Because the truthful answers are heavy weight,” he said. “And this is how you build the spine to carry them with pride.”The hearth popped, one ember remembering how to dance and then forgetting again. I thought about the mills—Florence and Manchester, the sound of looms like rain on old tin roofs, women laughing over thread that would turn into dresses made to outlast wars. I thought about ministers with somebody else’s sins in their pockets, and port chiefs who counted the same money twice because they loved it too much. I thought about Andros Jennings, his cold grin, his gun, his certainty that fire is a cure for a
Last Updated: 2025-08-10
Chapter: 89The safe room had the personality of a prison warden hired as a mansion decorator. Steel shutters were down. Hearth sulking to embers. Maps on the walls faded away like polite lies. The kind of room that pretends to be civilized while counting bullets that missed your head if you were stupid enough to stay outside.Somewhere in the south garden, a sensor had screamed for help but then decided to be all shy about it. The breach alarm cut off. The silence afterward had a lot of weight, one could have minted coins from it.Elky rolled in the trunk like he’d just come back from digging up an ancestor. Old cedar, stamped in a serif that remembered being touched by human hands:JENNINGS & SONS – FLORENCE–MANCHESTERThe corners were iron-bitten and border-burned, scarred the way passports would be if they traveled places. The trunk smelled like resin and salt and whatever pride becomes when it stops being useful.He set it at the long table and flicked the latches. The lid came up slow, as i
Last Updated: 2025-08-09
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
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