Novels by Beni Alexander

Dawn slipped between Milan’s skyscrapers, but on the executive floor of Moretti Tower, now legally registered as the headquarters of Vanguard Systems, sunlight was nothing more than an unnecessary distraction. Dante Moretti stood in the center of his expansive private office. The room now hummed softly with the sound of new servers installed by Victor Thorne.Dante slipped off his silk shirt, letting the scarred planes of his back meet the cold air from the climate control system. He began one finger push-ups at an agonizingly slow rhythm, channeling his entire body weight and sensory focus into the vibration of the marble floor beneath him.“The signal is back, sir,” Marcus’s voice broke the silence through hidden speakers. “Fourteenth floor. Logistics Department. Someone is using the backup satellite channel that was supposed to be dead.”Dante rose in one fluid motion, as if gravity held no authority over him. He picked up a white towel and wiped the sweat from his neck.“Who’s reg

Dock 12 was a noisy jungle of steel.Here, the cold Mediterranean wind collided with the roar of massive cranes and the deafening slam of shipping containers. For ordinary people, this chaos was noise pollution, but for Dante Moretti it was a battlefield filled with lethal distractions.The black van stopped behind the shadow of stacked, rusted containers. Dante stepped out, his carbon cane folded at his belt, his right hand gripping the hilt of the hidden steel blade.“Too many distractions, sir,” Marcus whispered through the earpiece. “The waves beneath the pier are echoing off the concrete walls. I’m having trouble filtering their footsteps from the background noise.”“Use low-frequency filters, Marcus. Focus on the friction of tactical boot soles against steel plating,” Dante replied. He drew a deep breath, taking in diesel, salt, and rust. “Elena, what’s your position?”“I’m on crane number four, fifty meters north of you,” Elena’s voice came through clearly. “I see four silhouet

The darkness inside the main office of Moretti Tower now felt different. It was no longer threatening darkness, but obedient darkness.Dante Moretti sat in his large leather chair, facing not his desk, but the massive window that overlooked the shimmering lights of Milan. To him, the view was a symphony of vibrations rising from the streets below, the hum of traffic, the electric pulse of the city, and the wind striking the glass.“Sir, the funds from Protocol Ares have been fully integrated into the tier-three laundering structure,” Marcus’s voice broke the silence. He stood near the door, holding a tablet that emitted a soft blue glow. “But we need more than shadow accounts. If we keep moving this much money without a legal front, Europol will start smelling something rotten within three months.”Dante slowly rotated his chair. The faint friction of the bearing pads along the axis was nearly silent, yet to Dante it sounded like a machine growling.“I don’t want to launder money, Mar

The haze of gunpowder still lingered thinly in the air of the luxurious conference room. Dante Moretti remained standing tall, even though bullets had just sliced past him. To Dante, every projectile had a sound, a high-frequency hiss that cut through the moisture in the air.Beside him, Elena Rossi dove behind the solid mahogany table, her pistol trained on the open elevator doors.“Dante! There are three more! They’re wearing face shields!” Elena shouted over the chaos.“Don’t use your eyes, Elena. Listen to them,” Dante replied calmly. He folded his carbon cane and pulled a hidden mechanism, releasing a thin, flexible steel blade from within. “Their breathing is irregular. They’re amateurs paid with promises, not cash.”A gunman charged in, spraying his light machine gun wildly.Dante did not duck.He stepped aside with measured precision, as if he already knew exactly where every bullet would land. The moment the attacker had to reload, a sharp metallic click that rang clearly in

“What is this?!” Lorenzo jumped to his feet, pointing at the screen. “Vargo! Shut it down!”“I can’t, sir! The system is locked!”Then a voice echoed throughout the room. Deep, commanding, and cold.“Blindness is not the absence of light, Don Galante. True blindness is when a leader cannot see betrayal right beneath his nose.”The Don’s faces reappeared in small windows at the corner of the screen, all visibly startled.“Dante? Is that your voice?”“Yes, Don Galante. Forgive the interruption. I simply wanted to demonstrate that Moretti Holdings is currently run by an incompetent thief,” Dante spoke through the building’s audio system. “Look at the data in front of you. Lorenzo attempted to sell your distribution routes to Interpol to save himself. He is a rat trying to burn the barn after being caught stealing grain.”“LIES! THAT’S FABRICATED!” Lorenzo screamed, pulling his pistol and firing at the ceiling speakers.BANG! BANG!“Your anger is your confession, Lorenzo,” Dante’s voice r

Morning in Milan brought no warmth to Lorenzo Moretti.On the highest floor of Moretti Tower, the air felt thin and oppressive. Lorenzo stood before the massive reinforced glass windows, staring at a city that seemed to be pulling away from him. On his mahogany desk, reports of the massacre at the Linate hangar lay like death notices.“Ten men, Saul,” Lorenzo whispered hoarsely. “Ten elite Mossad soldiers. How is it possible that one blind man wiped them out in fifteen minutes?”Vargo, now wearing a cast on his arm and bruises covering his face, stood trembling in the corner.“He’s not a man, sir. He’s a ghost. He shut off the lights and… and he knew where we were before we even moved. He calls himself The Oracle.”“He is not The Oracle! He’s Dante! My brother who should be rotting at the bottom of the Mediterranean!” Lorenzo spun around, his eyes red from lack of sleep. “And now the Rossi family is backing him. Roberto Rossi sent his men to clean out that hangar. We’re surrounded, Va