Ark Dossier Book Novels & Stories

PLEASE! Dakor is a gerontophilic sociopath of the Romanov family. This scene ties to the main plot and world. You'll know him more as you explore deeper into the book. Don't drop nasty comments. Also, I'm not perfect in third-person POV. You might see head-hopping or imperfections. I'm a human with flaws and a learner too. If you're okay, then proceed. Thank you. DESECRATION. (THIRD PERSON’S POV)

not “the loud, pretty one who came later.” A footnote read: Security archive for that date period is listed as corrupted/ missing. Awaiting data recovery specialist assessment. I closed the dossier. The weight of it was physical, a slab of granite on my lap. This wasn’t just evidence against Isabella. It was the blueprint of my own annihilation, drawn in someone else’s hand. “He is beginning to ask the right questions,” Don Rossi said, lighting a cigar. The smoke curled between us, a fragrant veil. “But he is asking them three years too late. Do you wish him to see this?”

It was unlocked. I slipped inside, closing it softly behind me. The room was dark, lit only by the moonlight streaming through a large window. It smelled of him—sandalwood and frost. And power. My eyes swept the room, searching for a filing cabinet, a desk. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely function. And then I saw it. Sitting on the large, polished mahogany desk, as if waiting for me. An old, blue leather-bound dossier. My breath caught. It was real. It was here.

The security office fell into a stunned silence. Noah remained motionless, his eyes fixed on the first page of the leather-bound journal. My name is Adrian Voss, and if Noah Volkov is reading this, then I have already been dead for ten years. He read the sentence again. Then a third time. Every instinct told him the words were impossible, yet the handwriting matched the damaged journal from Black Ridge perfectly. Daniel was the first to speak. “Who is Adrian Voss?”

"But Voss was right. We have no place to hide." "Then we don't hide," Dax said, his eyes turning a soft, warm amber. He reached into his vest and pulled out a small, leather-bound book the original charter of the Iron Wolves. He opened it to the last page and handed me a pen. "We build a nation. A place where the road never ends." He leaned in, his kiss a slow, deep promise of a life that was finally ours to write. The heat of him, the scent of leather and victory, made the world feel solid and real.

“Go apologize to Lydia. Apologize for everything you’ve messed up.” “Why should I apologize?” Josie shot back. “I tried my best!” “Tried?” Milton snarled. “Your ‘best’ nearly destroyed our entire clan! Now apologize, or every single one of your couture gowns and limited-edition sports cars goes back!” The words “limited-edition sports cars” made me laugh coldly. I remembered thirty years ago, I’d found an ancient manuscript on the First-born bloodline that cost three million euros. I wanted to buy it to study, to strengthen the clan.

I did a little twirl in the middle of the room and started combing the bookshelves to see what treasures I could find. I was just too excited to have found this place. I came across a smaller leather-bound book that had a weird symbol on the front and when I opened it, I realized that it was a history of the Hunter's. I decided to keep that book just in case I needed it. I was totally in my own world when I felt someone’s arms go around me and breath in my ear. "I see you found my favorite place in the house." My body shivered at the contact. I thought that I was going to melt into a puddle right then and there.

The digital trace of Anton Volkov filled the laptop screen, a dense network of offshore accounts, encrypted messages, and carefully hidden transactions. It was the kind of deception built over years, quiet, patient, and deadly. Dante’s earlier words still lingered in the air: He will be dealt with. The promise was calm, unhurried, and absolute. There would be no mercy, only certainty. The dossier had already been handed over, its contents impossible to deny. Dante now lay resting, the doctor’s orders forcing stillness upon a man who thrived on control. But the hunt was not finished. The warehouse remained tense, every shadow heavy with the expectation of what was coming next.

“What you expect of me. What I expect in return. And what happens if either of us breaks the agreement.” “You have a sharp mind,” he said. “I like that.” Darius stood without another word and moved toward the towering bookshelf that lined one wall of the study. His fingers skimmed the spines of leather-bound ledgers and ancient texts until he paused, reached up, and pulled out a black folder marked only with a single silver insignia—his crest. He walked back to the desk with the same calm control he carried into every room. Cassandra tracked his every move, a quiet suspicion growing in her chest.

" Ethan said, but made no move to pick up the underwear. In fact, neither did I nor Felix. We only stared at the little black box, and the books that also fell out. Felix exchanged a look with me. "No." I said, knowing that he wanted us to snoop. "Oh come on, what if it shows like all the women he targeted?" Felix took up one of the book. "Holy shit." He said, then showed me what he was looking at. The first two pages were nothing but my face. The following pages were like diary entries.