Novels by novikod55

Ethan was loosening his bow tie in the Plaza's marble hallway when he heard her voice."Ethan. Wait."He turned. Victoria stood twenty feet away, the polished facade from earlier had cracked. Her makeup was smudged, hair coming loose from its elegant arrangement, and her eyes carried a desperation he'd never seen before."Victoria." He glanced around the hallway. Other gala attendees were filtering out, heading to cars and after-parties. "Where's James?""I sent him home." She moved closer, her heels clicking against marble. "We need to talk. Please."Ethan studied her face—the exhaustion, the strain, the barely controlled panic. Against his better judgment, he nodded toward a quiet alcove near the hotel's library. They walked in silence, the sounds of the gala fading behind them.The alcove was empty, lit by a single chandelier. Victoria sank onto a velvet bench like her legs wouldn't hold her anymore."The board is asking questions," she said without preamble."What kind of question

The tuxedo felt like a costume.Ethan adjusted his bow tie for the third time, staring at his reflection in the groundskeeper's cottage mirror. He looked presentable, the rental fit well enough but he felt like an imposter preparing to infiltrate a world he'd deliberately left behind."Stop fidgeting," Isabelle said from the doorway. She wore a midnight blue gown that somehow made her look both elegant and formidable. "You look fine.""I look uncomfortable.""You are uncomfortable. But you look fine." She smiled. "Marcus wants you there. This is important to him.""I know." Ethan straightened his jacket. "I just don't do galas.""You do tonight."The car ride to Manhattan was quiet. Isabelle worked on her phone while Ethan watched the Hudson Valley give way to the city towers of glass and steel rising against the November sky. Somewhere in that skyline was Sterling Tower, held together by his emergency retrofit, bearing Victoria's name.He pushed the thought away.The Plaza ballroom

The black Mercedes was parked beside Ethan's truck when he returned from inspecting the west wing foundation. Expensive and out of place among the construction vehicles and equipment scattered across the Harrington Estate grounds.Richard Cross leaned against the driver's door, perfectly at ease in a suit that probably cost more than Ethan's monthly rent. He held a leather folder and wore the expression of a man who always got what he wanted."Mr. Cole," Cross said pleasantly. "I hope you don't mind the intrusion.""I do, actually." Ethan kept walking toward the cottage."Five minutes of your time. That's all I'm asking.""I already told you no.""I'm not here to make another offer." Cross pushed off the car, falling into step beside him. "I'm here to give you something."Ethan stopped at the cottage door. "I don't want your money.""Good. Because I'm not offering any." Cross extended the folder. "I'm offering truth."Against his better judgment, Ethan took it. Inside were dozens of

The headlines screamed across every news outlet in New York.STERLING TOWER SAVED BY MYSTERY ARCHITECTMIRACLE RESCUE PREVENTS CATASTROPHEINNOVATIVE TECHNIQUE STABILIZES FAILING SKYSCRAPEREthan sat in the groundskeeper's cottage at the Harrington Estate, coffee going cold in his hand, Victoria's press conference on mute. She stood before a wall of microphones, looking every inch the visionary architect, describing the "collaborative effort" that had saved her building. The reporter's questions were softballs and Victoria's answers were perfect.She never mentioned his name.Ethan turned off the television.A knock interrupted his thoughts. Isabelle stood in the doorway with a laptop under her arm her expression unreadable."Can I come in?" she asked."It's your property."She entered, setting her laptop on the cluttered desk. "I've been doing research.""On what?""You." Isabelle opened the laptop, pulling up architectural databases and public records. "After watching you save that

Ethan's truck screeched to a halt outside Sterling Tower's emergency perimeter. Police barriers cordoned off the street, but he flashed his old Sterling Architecture ID, outdated but convincing enough, and pushed through.The lobby was chaos. Engineers huddled around the tablets and blueprints, shouting over each other. Emergency personnel coordinated evacuations. And in the center of it all stood Dr. Raymond Stein, Victoria's lead structural consultant, directing the operation like a general commanding troops.Stein was everything Ethan wasn't: impeccably dressed, academically decorated, and utterly convinced of his own brilliance. He stood before a digital projection of Sterling Tower, gesturing emphatically at stress points while junior engineers scrambled to implement his recommendations."We need to redistribute load through the eastern supports," Stein declared. "Reinforce from the bottom up, standard protocol—""That won't work," Ethan said.Every head turned. Stein's expressi

The Harrington Estate’s west wing had begun undergoing industrious work.Construction crews moved with purpose under Ethan's direction, excavating around the compromised foundation while portable pumps redirected decades of accumulated groundwater. Ethan stood knee-deep in the excavation, examining the original stonework with a flashlight. The pattern was exactly as he'd predicted: erosion along specific vectors where groundwater had been channeled during the 1950s renovation. Fixable. The foundation could be reinforced with steel-reinforced concrete, the drainage permanently rerouted."You make it look easy," Isabelle said from above.Ethan glanced up. She stood at the edge of the excavation, a coffee in hand, watching him with that same analytical expression she'd worn when they first met."It's not easy," Ethan replied, climbing out. "It's just systematic. Find the problem, design the solution, execute carefully.""And you can do this in six months?""If the weather cooperates and