Novel & Cerita Investi-gator Book

From the very moment he thought of ever sabotaging my launch he was already planning his downfall unknowingly. Right on schedule, my private phone buzzed. The investigator never called the main line; he liked to keep things clean. I picked up before the second ring. “What is the update?” I said. His voice came calm and collected. “You wanted the collector, the investors, and the gallery. You’ve got all three.” “Go ahead.”

Dimitri hadn’t slept. He sat in Valentina’s study, surrounded by half-drunk glasses of whiskey and scattered pages from the investigator’s report. The name Charles Rivera glared back at him from every file. Every document said the same thing, international investor, Italian ties, philanthropic beginnings. But something in the clean perfection of it all felt wrong. Too polished. Too deliberate. He’d seen men like that before, the ones who built empires in the dark. And now one of them was circling his wife.

There were fewer than I expected. A few clothes, some books. The gray dish towel I bought months ago. I would leave most of it behind, walk out of this apartment and this life without looking back. That was what I always told myself I would do. The story would run. It would run well, the way it needed to move. Then the investigations would start from regulatory bodies, into financial crimes. Questions in parliament would start up. Dominic and Hargreave’s carefully built world begins to crack and fall apart. The truth does that when it is this well-documented.

“Or you’ll miss.” Like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t just crossed a line— And pretended it didn’t exist. ** The meeting started shortly after. The investor was exactly what Estella expected. Polished. Measured. Dangerous in the way quiet men often were. They didn’t waste time. Numbers. Risk exposure. Future projections. Estella handled her part cleanly. Precise. Untouchable. Until— “Project Orion is ambitious,” the investor said casually. “Reminds me of an older case.”

Elena walked down the steps of the Spire, her sisters—Celine, Mara, Mona, Gaia, and Selene—forming a phalanx of power behind her. "The Northwoods were your local managers, weren't they?" Elena asked, her eyes narrowing. "And the First Investor was just a glorified clerk." "Clerks are so messy," The Broker sighed, flicking a piece of stardust from his sleeve. "They get attached to the assets. They start thinking about 'Love' and 'Sacrifice.' We don't care about your romance, Empress. We care about the Return on Investment. Earth has been a 'Non-Performing Asset' for the last year. No debt cycles, no resource extraction, no neural harvesting."

" Sorry to bother you. But . . . Well, I met with the investigator today. And I have told you, I was not that impressed. I don't think he is up to the task. I doubt if he would be able to handle this matter well because his styles of doing things are not technical at all if you are there, you would feel irritated and get angry. With him in charge, the chance to recover those missing books is slim. The director kept quiet for a while. She did not alter a word in response to what Jacquard had just said. She looked at his side ones and continued with what she was doing. The director looked away from the books placed before her. She had been studying and frowned. " He seemed quite professional."

I took a deep breath while Clara pushed the door open. I walked in, straight to my chair at the head of the table, greeted by a few tight nods which I returned with a small smile. The moment I took my seat and straightened my spine, one of the investors spoke. “We have a promising new investor who's shown serious interest—” I cut him off, not wanting to hear any more. “I’m aware. And I strongly object.” The room fell silent, each investor passing confused glances to each other. I rose from my seat, drawing down my blazer. “We’re a publishing firm. His background is tech. He’s a mogul, yes—but he knows nothing about the literary world.”

“I’m an investigative reporter for the Chicago Sun-Times, I know a lot of shit in this town. I write under a pen name, nobody knows it's me but my direct boss. Even he won’t give me up because my shit is too good. But saying a Reznikov is writing snitch stuff on other crime families? No way. I cover everything from police brutality to gang shit to organized crime. I’ve never written anything about our family, but you wouldn’t believe the shit I know about the Italians and the Chinese,” Ivan said, smiling. “How the fuck did we not know this,” Mickey said, slapping my leg. “I got a man you should talk to. He’s out running with the family right now. Ex-military, one of the best hackers in the w

I've learned to take it. What else can I do other than immerse myself in books and fantasize about being the female lead being dominated by the billionaire boss who could change my life? I grabbed the book and shoved it between my files before rushing to the boardroom. Not one minute after I settled did the door swing open. The investor walked in and the air left the room. He was tall, broad, and dressed in an expensive suit, and the second I saw him my stomach dropped. He looked exactly like I had been picturing the man in my book. Every single detail.

"No, Viviana, wait! We have a deal!" "We have a deal when your books are clean," I corrected him sharply. "I have officially paused the investment. I will not send a single euro to your firm until those overseas accounts are fully explained, investigated, and cleared by my team. You need to prove to me exactly where that money is going."