Herzog Novels & Stories

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Xavier: When she first mentioned the name, something in me went still. “Lorenzo D’Amaris,” Valerie said with a small, almost relieved smile, setting the file on the desk. “He’s interested in investing in the new firm. It’s all legitimate, I checked everything twice. He seems professional. I am still checking things out, but the idea of someone wanting to invest is making me happy.” I forced my expression to stay neutral even as my instincts sharpened. “D’Amaris?” I repeated, slowly. “Where’s he from?”

turned around and went back to the front door to lock it. After he made sure that their home was secure he continued to run after his sister until he was right by her side. He looked ahead of them. In the not so far of distance he could see the line where trim country grass from the Farmers Open Fields met with wilderness. Such a difference between the two pieces of land. Almost like different worlds. There was a flimsy wooden gate between the farmland and Forest that seemed to be holding the later back from oozing into their village. They had entered the forest quite a few times before and they always entered in the same place right there. Where country meets wilderness at the flimsy gate.

He had no use for them. Until her. Her name was Elara Vogt. She wasn't an aspirant. She was a competitor. Or rather, the heir to a competitor. Her father, Klaus Vogt, was the aging, irascible king of Central European logistics—a man who controlled the trucking, rail, and river barge networks that were the arteries of the continent. Their paths had crossed at the periphery for years; the Bianchi organization used Vogt's routes, but the relationship was strictly contractual, coolly professional.

Zürich, Switzerland, is familiar to everyone. It is a country often nicknamed Heaven because of its mountain scenery. It is also famous for its vineyards and many valleys that spoil the eyes. Angelica Gabriella Christopher, the second daughter of Kenneth Christopher and Queenzella Perrson, the owners of a wine factory that is very famous among the old money, was born in this beautiful place, blessed with a perfect body, a gorgeous face, and a brilliant brain.

Not knowing whether it's day or night because there are no windows or light, I pinch the bridge of my nose and try to ignore the massive hangover that's making my head pound like a drumline. I vaguely remember one of my new pals calling the big man who took me Tony, but I have no idea who he is and I didn't recognize him. As I'm racking my brain, trying to figure the current situation out, I hear footsteps above and then a door opens. A bare light bulb flickers on above and I blink against the brightness. Looking up, I see a man step into view. Someone I instantly recognize. Matthias Volkanov, the ruling don of the Volkanov family.

Wilhelm gives me a confused look. Hugo doesn’t seem to notice, and his eyes swiftly turn to Zen’s towering frame. “Is this, It truly is,” He glances back at Wilhelm, then without waiting for an answer, seizes Zen’s hand in both of his “Zepherin Sigmond! My word, I never imagined I would meet the sorcerer hunter in person!” Zen stares back at him, looking completely out of his depth as he shakes Hugo hand. “The pleasure is mine,” He says, trying to pull his hand from Hugo’s with considerable effort

Tristan muttered, rolling his eyes. “Who are you guys?” Huzefa asked, alarmed at this point, knowing they are not to be taken lightly anymore. “First, tell us who you are and then we will.” Zadicus demanded sternly. Huzefa narrowed his eyes but exhaled because they didn't have another option left anymore and began to tell them who he truly was. “I am Huzefa Illes. Former Army General of Hizerl. I was a teenager when it all happened. I climbed my way up and found things are way worse than the city in the royal palace.” Huzefa said assertively.

It was from Christopher, the man knew what the meaning of urgency was. He sent me still photos of the man who had been seen walking around the warehouse before it burned. I was good with faces, I would have remembered this face, even if I had seen it once. The man had an unforgettable face. Blonde hair, high cheekbones, skinny as a rode. But all of that drew a blank in my mind. I furrowed my brows as I turned my phone to try to have a better look at him but nothing. I tossed the phone to Joseph.

(Thats enough she belongs to Leonardo now and is not to be touched, this is unless you want to explain to the don that you ruined his birthday gift) the other man said. The man hand trembles as he pulled his hand away with an audible gulp. "No, nemmeno io ho così tanto desiderio di morte"( No not even I have that much of a death wish) the man said fear evident in his voice. Isabella wondered who this Leonardo person was and why was he so feared but as she started to put two and two together her heart began racing in her chest as she remembered where she heard that name before.