The Black Book Book Novels & Stories

He showed her no compassion and that's when the young woman felt that her cause was truly lost. For a moment, the young woman could hardly breathe. No! Not now... she said to herself. Not now... She began to make the hundred steps under the vigilant eye of the man. She was choking... She had more and more difficulty to breathe and in a last look of pity towards the man, she felt herself losing her balance... She closed her eyes and fainted. Before closing her eyes, she had time to see the face of the stranger who had caught her in time... Black hole... ***

She unlocked it and brought out her black book that could tell what would happen next in her life. "Do you know what this means?"

As I returned to the manor to pack my luggage, the door to the study was pushed open. Gina walked in, holding a black ledger bound in lambskin. That was the core secret of the Corleone family—the "Black Book" recording every money laundering channel and every bribed official. "Leaving so soon, Elena?" Gina smiled with a look of pure innocence, yet her hands moved quickly to shove that heavy ledger deep into the luggage I had just packed.

Calming down for a bit, Serena replies as she rubs her face roughly while sweating like a pig, "Did you by any chance read any black diary?" "Yeah, I read a book with black cove~… wait, what? A diary?!!" Erin asks in her surprise to which Serena replies with only a silent node before explaining what has happened. "Anything that has black cover is related to Edward when it comes to books. They're his diaries that he doesn't write with a pen but type!" "As expected of a CEO who likes his work as firm as possible!"somehow an invisible big exclamatory sign appears on Erin's head.

His way of letting me know he’s got my back. Letting out a sigh, I looked in King Chaos’ direction only to find him already looking at me. I gave him a nod to signify my readiness. His response was a curt nod before his voice thundered across the backyard. The regal looking men and women relocated to the centre of the backyard and it was then that I noticed the black and gold urn they clutched between them on a wide platter. Something about that urn called out to me and I knew subconsciously that it contained my dead mate’s ashes. I took everything in me not to rush forward and grab it but I resisted.

He hung there, suspended upside down over the inferno of the foyer, his face inches from the rising flames. “Victoria! Help me!” he screamed, his voice once again that of a terrified child. I hung from the tapestry, my muscles screaming, watching him dangle. I could see Zander below, moving through the smoke, his gun raised. But then, I saw something else. Behind Daniel, in the shadows of the nursery wing that hadn’t yet been touched by the fire, a door opened. It wasn’t a guard. It wasn’t the police. It was Michael Blackwood. He was holding a small, leather-bound book—the original Vermon ledger. He looked at his son hanging over the fire, and then he looked at me.

It felt good to laugh again, even if it hurt my head. We settled on her couch, and I told her everything. The files. The ciphers. The names. The things no one was ever supposed to see. “I’ve unlocked so much, Raina,” I said, sliding the notepad across the table. “Detailed records of meetings. Blackmail lists. Offshore accounts. All connected to the Order.” Her eyes widened as she skimmed through the pages. “You’re kidding…” “And that’s not all,” I continued, my voice dropping. “There’s something called the Black Book, a hidden digital ledger. It documents every transaction, every cover-up, every crime. And it’s tied directly to Mr. Everhart.”

I rounded a corner, turned left down a tighter row, and— Stopped. There, nestled between two massive grimoires, was a book that didn’t belong. It was smaller, wrapped in black hide, no title. A circular crest gleamed faintly on the cover, a silver wolf’s head bisected by a black sword, the same we saw in the tunnel the other day. I knew that crest, its Blackwood sigil. My lungs tightened. My hand moved before my brain could catch up. I pulled the book free. Dust billowed, I coughed hard.. My heart beat faster.

I argued. "Your brother was the accountant for a gang—a family rather—The Black Rose." The Black Rose. It was the name Elijah had called his company, and now they were saying it was a gang? "And now that he's gone, they won't stop until they wipe out the rest of The Black Rose," Silas took a step back. "You signed your fate the second you stepped foot in Italy with that passport. If they get their hands on you, they will kill you or worse."

I swallow the lump in my throat and descend. The air down here is cooler, thicker with the smell of leather and dust and secrets. Torches have guttered out, but faint violet light clings to the edges of things—my new sight, maybe, or the contract’s gift. The shadows dance ahead of me, playful almost, skipping along the shelves until they reach a particular bookcase. One tendril stretches, points. A heavy black tome launches itself from the highest shelf and thumps into my waiting hands. I stagger under the weight. The book is bound in leather so dark it drinks the light; no gold leaf, no embossed sigils, just smooth, inky blackness. The title is etched in silver that seems to shift when I ti