Novel & Cerita Michael Ian Black Book

I waited, counting my heartbeats until I heard his footsteps fade down the hall. I didn't head for the bookshelves. I headed for the desk. Elijah was a creature of habit. He believed that because I was a "distressed woman," I wouldn't have the stomach for logistics. He was wrong. I began rifling through the papers on his desk with surgical precision, moving nothing out of its exact place. Then, I saw it. Tucked behind a false panel in a heavy ledger was a smaller, leather-bound book. The Black Ledger. I opened it, and my breath hitched. It wasn't just a record of trade, it was a record of sabotage.

Killian was dressed fully in black and the black mask was covering his entire face except for his eyes. Killian still looked hot as hell. Mike was dressed in the same black suit, covering everything besides his eyes. He looked away from Killian and they both stood before the artwork. “It’s pretty ugly, actually. “ Mike concluded and he could tell Killian was smiling underneath the mask. “I mean. “ He went on. “It looks terrible. I’m sorry. “ “No, you're right. It’s pretty ugly. We still have to steal it, though. “ “Yeah. “

JJ shows Daniel into my mother’s sitting room. “Hi Mr Fields, please call me Lily.” I narrow my eyes at JJ who blushes. I should really take what I can get, at least Lillian is not, Miss Blackwood. I shake Daniel’s outreached hand. “I wouldn’t be comfortable with Lily; may I call you Miss Blackwood?” he asks politely “No, you may not” his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “Okay. Lily.” I smile. “This is Lucas Craven.” “Mr Craven is fine.” I narrow my eyes and roll my eyes at Luke. Men! JJ starts to leave.

Brinda slowly climbed out of bed, her pulse hammering against her ribs as a thousand thoughts raced through her mind. If Francesco had truly pranked Marshall and Alessia with The Black Book, then they were walking a razor-thin edge of disaster. She could already picture the storm brewing on the horizon, a tempest of blood and vengeance waiting to swallow them whole. She turned sharply toward him, her voice low, uncertain. “Is this really The Black Book?” Francesco, lounging against the headboard, stretched his arm out lazily, dangling the infamous book between his fingers. A knowing smirk played on his lips. “Why don’t you check for yourself?”

Ian pulled out a black folder that looked thick. "First of Sandy Byron is not the man you think he is, so maybe signing with him is a bad idea," "I know, I did just beat up his daughter. It's about to get a whole lot worse." Ian whistled at that, shaking his head. "I have records and files of his wrongdoings. We're talking Mafia dealings, money laundering, ghost companies-" "Ghost companies?" My eyes widened at that.

“That’s him.” Nathan Blackwood. I recognized that face instantly. CEO of Blackwood Industries, headquartered in New York. The man was always in the news. His face was plastered all over the business magazines I loved to read. He was tall, like his cousin, Julian—handsome, with the kind of presence that commanded attention, even in a photograph. And his fiancée—Kimberly—she looked exactly like me. I swiped back to her picture with trembling fingers, my stomach twisting in confusion and disbelief.

"Isla. If you're watching this, I'm already gone. And you've found the key." He coughs, a wet, painful sound. He wipes his mouth and continues. "The Black Swan isn't a bird, Isla. It's a Registry." He pulls out a document, holding it up to the lens. The paper shakes in his grip. "A list of every politician, judge, and CEO Michael Hale ever bought. From 1988 to the day I recorded this." He sets the document down and leans closer to the camera. His eyes are haunted, dark circles bruising the skin beneath them.

Black hole. Hamish was looking at the woman who was lying on his couch with a frown on her face. Or rather, the thief... He had carried her into his living room and then he had looked for anything on her to identify her but she had no papers so he had to take a picture of her to send to a friend to search in the American databases... He would like to have a drink but he was afraid that the young woman would run away... He wondered why he was unable to call the police... That's what all normal people do after discovering a thief in their house...

She fidgeted in her seat, her eyes darting anxiously to the entrance each time someone walked in, her heart leaping with false hope again and again. Until finally—A man in a tailored business suit entered. “I’m sorry for the delay,” he said, approaching the officers. “The boss is currently in a meeting. I was sent as his representative.” Belle looked up. Her heart sank. It wasn’t him. “This is the CEO’s black card,” the manager explained eagerly, showing it to the man. “We recognize it anywhere. Only a few people in the country own one. Yet today, it was used by… her.” His tone carried thinly veiled disdain.

I lock the screen and drop my bucket of Ben and Jerry's ice cream as I walk towards the front door. God I hope it's not George. I'm not in the mood for a conversation right now and I didn't tell George the company I was supposed to get a job at was Killian Black's company. I don't think I'll be able to answer his questions. It's not like I owe him any answers. I unlock the door and pull it open, revealing no other than the devil himself. Killian fucking Black. What's he doing here? How did he find me? And why on Earth is he looking so damn hot in that fine custom tailored suit?