ANMELDENSkyfall Over the MediterraneanThe roar of the Gulfstream G650’s engines grew harsher as the aircraft executed sharp evasive maneuvers to break free from radar locks being maintained by three unmarked fighter jets that had been tailing them since their take‑off from Dubai. Inside the cabin, gravity seemed to toy with every living thing on board. Crystal glasses shattered, documents scattered across the floor, and a faint but acrid scent of jet fuel began to sting the air.Liora Thorne gripped the edge of her work desk tightly, her eyes fixed on Isabella de Montfort, who now stood calmly amid the chaos. Isabella was no longer crying; her expression was cold, and her lips were curled into a faint, mocking smile. In her hand, she held a small detonator disguised as a cigarette lighter.“You think you are so clever, don’t you, Liora?” Isabella’s voice cut clearly through the noise of wind seeping through door seals that had weakened under the stress of the rapid turns. “You hack banks
Flight of the DamnedThe Rolls-Royce engines of the Thorne family’s Gulfstream G650 jet hummed with a low, powerful roar as the aircraft cut through the cloud layers high above the Indian Ocean, en route to a refuelling stop in Dubai before continuing the journey toward London. Inside the luxurious cabin, lined with Alcantara leather and polished walnut wood, the atmosphere felt far colder than the freezing temperatures outside at altitude. Mavric Thorne sat in his high-backed executive seat, his plaster-cast leg propped up comfortably on an ottoman, while his sharp, eagle-like gaze never wavered from the woman seated opposite him for even a second.Isabella de Montfort looked dishevelled and broken. Gone was every trace of the elegance and arrogance usually displayed by the Parisian aristocratic heiress. Her blonde hair was dull and unkempt, and her eyes were swollen and red from crying. In another corner of the cabin, Liora Thorne sat at her fold-down work desk, her fingers danc
The Alliance of TraitorsThe neon lights of Marina Bay Sands reflected vividly across the surface of the glass table inside a private suite on the 50th floor. The atmosphere within the room was as cold as ice, even though the air conditioning was set to a normal temperature. Mavric Thorne sat in an ergonomic wheelchair; his right leg, fractured during the incident in Sulawesi, was encased in white plaster that stood out starkly against his expensive tailored trousers. Yet despite his physical condition, the commanding aura radiating from him remained completely undiminished.Opposite him stood Liora Thorne who had now fully set aside her alias “The Ghost” and embraced her role as the matriarch of the Thorne Group studying a large monitor displaying real-time movements across the global stock markets.“Eleanor could never have escaped without powerful internal assistance, Mavric,” Liora said, her voice calm yet possessing a razor-sharp edge. “Someone unlocked her cell door from dee
Resurrection and RetributionGunpowder dust and limestone fragments swirled through the air, creating a suffocating grey haze inside the cavern housing the Nusantara laboratory. The deafening blast of the missiles fired from Marguerite de Montfort’s helicopter still rang painfully in Liora’s ears, a high-pitched frequency that seemed to pierce right through her. Emerging from the thick smoke, the woman who should have been reduced to ashes twenty years prior stood with terrifying grace. Marguerite de Montfort, clad in black tactical gear and possessing eyes as cold as polar ice, stepped over the rubble as though she were the very mistress of death itself.“You have your mother’s eyes, Liora,” Marguerite’s voice echoed, smooth yet sharp as a razor’s edge. “But sadly, you also inherited her foolishness the belief that a Thorne’s love could shield you from the destiny written in your very blood.”In another corner of the cavern, Mavric Thorne lay trapped beneath the wreckage of a sto
Mist Over the Land of KingsSurya’s Bell 412 helicopter sliced through thick banks of cloud shrouding the mountains of South Sulawesi. Far below, the dense green expanse of the tropical rainforest seemed endless, broken only by towering limestone cliffs a stark contrast to the concrete jungles of London or Madrid they had just left behind. To Mavric Thorne, this place felt like another planet. But for Liora, there was a strange tug deep within her chest, as if every gust of wind carried whispers from a past long buried.“We’re almost there,” Surya shouted over the roar of the helicopter’s engines. “The village down there is the gateway to your father’s place of seclusion. Here, the laws of Jakarta hold no power. Only customary law and honour prevail.”Mavric clasped Liora’s hand tightly. His tactical leather gloves felt cool to the touch, but his palm was warm. “Don’t stray far from me, Liora. I don’t care who your uncle is or who your father is. In a remote place like this, dange
Feast in the Heart of the TigerThe humid, sweltering air of Jakarta seemed to seep through the pores of Mavric Thorne’s custom Savile Row suit.However, what troubled him more than the tropical temperature was the middle-aged man standing in front of his private jet at Soekarno-Hatta Airport.The man, who introduced himself as Surya, possessed an aura that belonged only to those who had long reigned in the grey zone between law and crime.The scorpion tattoo on his arm was not merely decoration; it was a mark of authority."You brought quite a few guards with you, Mr. Thorne," Surya said, puffing on his clove cigar, its distinct aroma filling the tarmac. "But in Jakarta, the number of weapons guarantees no safety. What matters is who you know."Mavric pulled Liora closer, his arm wrapping possessively around her waist, making no attempt to hide it."I didn't come here for lessons in etiquette, Surya. I am here for business... and for answers."Liora stared at Surya with sharp yet pr
The Last Card of a Desperate ManThe Azure Gala Night was more than just a regular corporate event; it was a display of absolute power. The Royal Albert Hall had been transformed into a futuristic structure with holographic projections of white phoenix birds floating above its dome, symbolizing Li
The Half-TruthDawn had not yet broken over the London skyline, but inside the main laboratory of Thorne Manor, the space glowed brighter than midday. Liora Thorne sat upright, her fingers dancing across a transparent keyboard with the precision of a neurosurgeon. Beside her, Mavric stood like an
The Devil's TransparencyThe explosion on Level 0B of Thorne Tower slowly subsided, leaving behind a pungent stench of sulfur and burnt metal. At the shattered doorway, Silas White and Miles Thorne were forced to retreat. The Nemesis Protocol activated by Liora was more than just electronic inter
The Shadow of DoubtThe morning after the confrontation at the vault was supposed to be a moment of reconciliation. But for Liora Thorne, every sweet word spoken by Mavric now sounded like a string of encrypted code. Even though Mavric had explained about his uncle, Miles Thorne, Liora’s skeptica







