Novels by Beni Alexander

Moretti Tower in the heart of Milan rose like a monument to greed, forged from glass and black steel. On the top floor, the city’s lights reflected off polished marble floors until they resembled a flawless mirror. Elena Rossi stood before the gold-plated elevator, smoothing the black silk dress that clung perfectly to her body. She could feel the weight of the small pistol strapped to her thigh and the transponder device concealed inside her compact handbag.“Breathe more evenly, Elena. Your heart rate is at one hundred ten beats per minute. That is too fast for a woman who has come here to surrender.”Dante’s voice sounded crystal clear through the micro earpiece embedded deep in Elena’s ear canal. In Tuscany, hundreds of kilometers away, Dante sat before a monitor showing nothing but darkness, yet his ears were linked to the audio feed from the transmitter Elena carried.“You can hear that from there?” Elena whispered as she stepped forward when the elevator doors slid open.“I can

Dawn in Tuscany brought no color to Dante Moretti, only a change in temperature and a subtle shift in the frequency of the air. He stood in the center of the villa’s vast main hall, bare-chested, letting his skin absorb the cold creeping up from the marble floor. In his ear, a small earpiece hissed softly, an encrypted channel provided by Marcus.“Elena is on her way to Milan, sir,” Marcus’s voice came through the frequency. “She is carrying the forged documents. Lorenzo has taken the bait. He agreed to meet her at headquarters tonight.”“Good,” Dante replied. He did not move his head, yet his ears caught the sound of heavy footsteps in the upper corridor. “What about The Ghost?”“He moves like a shadow, sir. My intelligence says he is already in the Tuscany area. He is the type who observes his target for forty-eight hours before executing. He is dissecting your routine.”Dante smiled faintly. “Let him dissect. He will discover that the routine of a blind man is a lethal labyrinth. M

The Tuscan sky gave way. Torrential rain poured over the Moretti estate, turning the ground into mud and creating a wall of white noise deafening to normal ears. Yet in the abandoned back garden of the villa, Dante Moretti stood perfectly still. He wore no shirt, letting the ice-cold water strike skin carved with scars.Dante closed his eyes, eyes that no longer functioned. He was not bracing against the cold. He was mapping.“You will die of pneumonia before you ever get the chance to kill Lorenzo if you keep this up,” Elena’s voice called from the terrace, nearly swallowed by the roar of rain.“Be quiet, Elena. Do not disrupt my frequency,” Dante replied without turning.“Frequency? You are standing in the middle of a storm like a madman. What are you even looking for?”Dante inhaled slowly. “I am looking for form. Every raindrop that strikes the objects around me sends back an echo. In my head, there is no darkness anymore. I can see the silhouette of the olive trees at two o’clock

The night in the Tuscan countryside should have been quiet, filled only with the symphony of crickets and the whisper of olive leaves in the wind. But for Dante Moretti, that silence was a canvas stained with sound. As he sat in the dark corner of the room, his ears never stopped processing information. He heard the irregular rhythm of Elena’s heartbeat on the bed, a sharp cadence of unease. He heard Enzo’s heavy breathing as the man slept downstairs, punctuated by the faint murmur of a television broadcast.Then he heard something that should not have existed.The soft scrape of synthetic fabric against the rough exterior wall of the villa. About thirty meters away on the northern side. Extremely faint, almost impossible for ordinary humans to hear, yet to Dante it was like fingernails dragged across a chalkboard.“Elena, don’t move,” Dante whispered suddenly.Elena, who had been staring at the ceiling with her thoughts in turmoil, flinched. “What now, Dante? Do you want me to scream

The shrill ring of a satellite phone on the fragile wooden table shattered the silence of dawn in Dante’s room. The sound pierced the air, echoing off the cold stone walls. Dante, who had been awake since four in the morning training his auditory sensitivity, reached out with startling precision for a man who had been blind for only two weeks.He slid the screen upward. “Speak,” he said curtly.“How was your sleep in your new palace, Brother?” Lorenzo’s voice came through with chilling clarity, accompanied by the clink of ice in a glass in the background. “I hope the rats weren’t too loud.”“The rats here are far more polite than the ones in Milan, Lorenzo. What do you want?”“I just wanted to give you a wedding present,” Lorenzo chuckled softly. “Good news. You’re getting married this morning, in less than two hours.”Dante was silent for a moment. He could hear his own heartbeat, steady and controlled. “Who’s the victim?”“Elena Rossi. You remember the Rossi family, don’t you? The o

The roar of the black SUV’s diesel engine sounded like a monster’s growl in Dante’s ears. Since his sight had been stolen, sound was no longer mere background noise. It was an indicator of speed, vehicle load, and road surface. The smooth vibration of tires on asphalt shifted into harsh jolts as the car climbed a rocky, sloping path.“Tuscany, Mr. Moretti. Welcome to the most beautiful dumping ground in Italy,” said Enzo, a stocky man whose breath always reeked of cheap tobacco and stale coffee.“You talk too much for a courier, Enzo,” Dante replied flatly. His eyes were hidden behind pitch-black sunglasses, but the burn scars around his temples gave his face a chilling look.Enzo chuckled, his raspy laugh echoing inside the cramped cabin. “A courier? Maybe. But this courier has eyes, and you? You do not even know we just passed through a rusted gate.”“I know the gate was rusted from the scream of its hinges in the wind two hundred meters ago,” Dante answered calmly. “And I know Rico