Novels by Amadi

The engine growled as Ethan pushed the car past its comfort. Red lights blurred into streaks. The city bent around him, familiar roads turning sharp and narrow as he cut through traffic with ruthless precision.He didn’t use sirens. Didn’t need them. Fear cleared paths faster than authority ever could. Jonas’s voice crackled through the earpiece. “Teams are five minutes out.”“Too long,” Ethan replied.“You’re not equipped for direct engagement.”Ethan turned hard onto Maya’s street. “I’m equipped for inevitability.”Silence followed. Jonas knew better than to argue now. Ethan parked three buildings down, engine still running.He stepped out, jacket unzipped, movements unhurried. Anyone watching would mistake him for another late-night passerby. That mistake would cost them.He crossed the street, eyes scanning reflections, windows, parked cars, puddles of old rain. The building loomed ahead, lights dark except for one apartment on the third floor. Maya’s.The front door was ajar. Eth

Lucas liked to talk when he felt safe. Ethan had learned that years ago, back when Lucas still borrowed money and promised repayment with dramatic sincerity.Now, safety looked different. It was confidence inflated by victory, by the belief that Derick Hale was dead and buried. That belief made men sloppy.The feed played silently on the wall. Lucas paced his apartment, phone pressed to his ear, drink in his other hand. His laughter was loud, careless.The kind that came from thinking the storm had passed. Jonas watched Ethan from the corner of his eye. “We can mute the audio if you want.”“No,” Ethan said.Jonas nodded to a technician. Sound filled the room. “…telling you, man, it’s clean,” Lucas said. “No body, no mess. Guy just cracked. Happens all the time.”Ethan’s jaw tightened, just a fraction. Jonas leaned closer. “You recognize the voice on the other end?”Ethan listened. The voice was distorted, filtered, but the cadence was sharp. Professional. Curious. “No,” Ethan said. “B

Ethan didn’t leave immediately. That was the first deviation. He stood just outside the building, under the wash of white security lights, letting the city’s night air cool his skin.The rooftop’s laughter still echoed faintly above him, distorted by glass and height. The phone vibrated.Unknown: You were instructed to exit.Ethan typed with one hand. ''I did. I just didn’t vanish.''A pause. ''Careful.''Ethan slipped the phone into his pocket and stepped into the street. He walked instead of driving. That was the second deviation.The city rewarded walkers with truths drivers missed, arguments spilling out of bars, quiet deals in shadows, the real rhythm beneath curated noise.Ethan moved with the crowd, head down, posture unremarkable. His reflection appeared in a shop window. Adrian Cole looked comfortable. That disturbed him.A familiar voice cut through the air behind him. “Hey.”Ethan didn’t turn. The voice came closer. “Adrian.”He stopped. Caleb stood a few feet away, jacket

The file arrived at 4:03 a.m. Ethan was still under the overpass, engine off, city noise muffled by concrete and distance. The encrypted phone vibrated once, no warning, no urgency.He opened it. Identity Packet — ACTIVEA face appeared first. Not his. Mid-thirties. Clean haircut. Forgettable in a way that felt intentional. The kind of face people remembered only after it left the room, and even then, vaguely.Name: Adrian ColeOccupation: Independent logistics consultantHistory: Plausible. Boring. Verified.Digital Footprint: Eight years. Clean.Social Access Level: ModerateFlags: NoneEthan scrolled. Bank accounts. Rental history. Travel stamps. A handful of photos at networking events. Smiling beside people who didn’t matter. “Adrian Cole,” Ethan murmured.The phone buzzed. Unknown: Say it.Ethan didn’t hesitate. “I’m Adrian Cole.”Good.Tonight, you’ll attend a gathering, Invitation already sent.Ethan frowned. To who?The reply came with a location pin. His old world. Maya’s wo

The SUV stayed two car lengths behind him. Not close enough to be aggressive. Not far enough to be coincidence.Ethan merged smoothly into traffic, posture relaxed, hands steady on the wheel. Speed didn’t change. Breathing didn’t change. Panic was loud, and he had already buried loud things.The encrypted phone vibrated once. Unknown: Confirm tail.Ethan checked the rearview mirror casually, like any bored commuter. Headlights. Same grille. Same patience. Confirmed, he typed.Good. Don’t lose them.Ethan’s lips twitched. So this was the lesson. He turned left at the next light. The SUV followed. Right turn. Followed.Three blocks later, Ethan slowed just enough to let a taxi slide between them. The SUV adjusted instantly. Professional.The city stretched out around him, late-night Lagos energy still alive. Street vendors closing up. Music bleeding from open windows. Neon signs flickering like tired eyes.Ethan didn’t rush. He let the SUV believe it had control. The phone buzzed again.

The house hadn’t changed. That was the first thing Ethan noticed. Same porch light flickering like it always had.Same wind chimes Maya insisted were “calming.” Same white curtains that never quite closed all the way. Comfort preserved. Like nothing had happened.Ethan sat in the parked car across the street, engine off, hands resting loosely on the steering wheel. The encrypted phone lay face-up beside him, dark and silent. Observe. Do not engage.He watched Maya move through the living room, phone pressed to her ear, pacing in slow circles. “No, Victor, I don’t care how it looks,” she said, voice faint through the glass. “I want to know where he is.”She stopped pacing. Listened. Scoffed. “Don’t tell me to be patient. He doesn’t just disappear.”Ethan tilted his head slightly. She still believed she mattered enough to be chased. Caleb appeared from the hallway, rubbing his face.He took the phone from her hand.“Victor,” Caleb said, lowering his voice, “look… if he’s gone, isn’t that

“Down!”The word barely left Frank’s mouth before the gunshot echoed through the garage. Claire screamed as concrete exploded inches from where her head had been.Frank slammed into her, dragging her behind the pillar as another shot rang out, sharp, controlled, professional. “That wasn’t a warning,” Claire cried.Frank pressed her head down. “No. That was a message.”The System flared violently across his vision. Lethal intent confirmed, Shooter skill level: High, Escape probability: 31%.Frank exhaled once. Slow. Focused. “Can you run?” he asked.Claire shook her head. “My legs”“Then you crawl,” Frank said. “When I say now, you move.”Another bullet ricocheted, sparks screaming off steel, A calm voice echoed from somewhere in the shadows. “Frank Forbes,” the man called. “You really should’ve stayed dead.”Claire’s breath hitched. “He knows you.”Frank’s jaw tightened. “I know of him.”The System chimed. Identity match: Victor Kane, Private contractor. Clean record. No witnesses.Fr

“Delete this call after we hang up.”Frank didn’t answer immediately. The woman’s voice on the line was steady, but too careful, like someone walking across glass they knew would eventually crack. “You said your name was Claire Han,” Frank said.“Yes.”“And you work in internal compliance at Forbes Tech.”“Yes.”Silence stretched. Frank stepped into the kitchen, closing the door softly behind him. The clock on the wall ticked louder than it should have.“You understand,” Frank said calmly, “that if this is a trap, you’ve just walked into the wrong narrative.”Claire exhaled shakily. “I’m counting on that.”The System shimmered faintly in Frank’s peripheral vision.New variable detected.Trust probability: 42%.Frank leaned against the counter. “Why call me?”“Because Ryan is panicking,” Claire said. “And when he panics, he burns people.”Frank’s jaw tightened. “Including you?”“Yes.”“Talk.”Claire didn’t hesitate. “There are sealed reports. Misconduct reports. Promotions flagged for

“They’re running the story.”Frank was halfway down the stairs when Evelyn’s voice cut through the house, sharp and urgent. She stood in the living room with her phone pressed to her ear, pacing like a trapped animal.“No, don’t deny it,” she snapped. “Redirect it. Frame it as emotional instability”Frank stopped. The System pulsed once, slow and deliberate. Conflict detected: Narrative seizure in progress.Frank descended the last step. “Who’s ‘they’?”Evelyn spun toward him. “Ryan.”Frank nodded. “Of course.”She stabbed a finger at the television. “Turn that off.”Frank didn’t. The anchor’s voice filled the room. “…sources close to Ryan Cole allege that Frank Forbes exhibited violent and controlling behavior long before last night’s incident”Evelyn swallowed. “This is bad.”Frank tilted his head. “This is predictable.”The anchor continued. “…with claims suggesting Forbes’s public outburst was the culmination of long-standing emotional volatility”Frank exhaled slowly. The System

Frank didn’t sleep. He lay on the couch fully dressed, one arm draped over the edge, eyes fixed on the ceiling fan as it turned in slow, uneven circles.Every creak of the house sounded louder than it should have. Every vibration of his phone made his pulse spike. The System stayed silent. That worried him. At 6:12 a.m., his phone buzzed anyway.BOARD CHAIR: Call moved up. 7:00 a.m. Virtual. Be ready.Frank sat up and rubbed his face. “Of course,” he muttered.The System responded immediately.Critical Engagement detected. Cognitive clarity boosted: +15%.A cool sharpness slid into place behind his eyes, cutting through fatigue. “Figures,” Frank said quietly.Evelyn was already awake. Frank found her in the kitchen, staring into a mug she hadn’t touched. Her hair was pulled back too tightly, makeup flawless in a way that suggested armor, not confidence.“You look like hell,” she said without looking up.Frank poured himself coffee. “You look like someone who just realized control is t

Frank didn’t rush home. He walked. The city felt different when he moved through it without shrinking himself.People brushed past him, unaware that markets were convulsing because of a name they were only just rediscovering.Screens in storefronts replayed Evelyn’s forced press statement. Commentators speculated. Analysts argued. Frank listened to none of it.The System stayed quiet, which unsettled him more than the warnings. When he reached the house, dusk had settled. Lights were on inside. Good. She hadn’t taken Lena again.Frank unlocked the door and stepped in. Evelyn was standing in the living room, phone pressed to her ear, pacing.She stopped when she saw him and ended the call without a word. “Close the door,” she said.Frank did. For a moment, they just looked at each other. Not as husband and wife. Not as enemies. As adversaries who knew each other too well. “You blindsided me,” Evelyn said finally.Frank shrugged out of his coat. “You toasted to not hiding.”“That wasn’t

The opening bell rang at exactly 9:30 a.m. Across the city, screens lit up in synchronized motion, trading floors, private offices, coffee shops, phones held in distracted hands.Green arrows surged. Numbers jumped. FORBES TECH (FTX): +18%Applause erupted inside the main trading room. Evelyn Forbes stood at the glass wall overlooking the floor, spine straight, expression composed.If anyone looked closely, they might notice her fingers digging into her palm hard enough to leave half-moon marks.“IPO momentum is strong,” the CFO said behind her. “If we stabilize through the first hour, this will be a historic debut.”Evelyn nodded. “Good.”Her phone vibrated. She didn’t look at it. Instead, she asked, “Any unusual flags?”The room went quiet. The legal counsel cleared his throat. “There’s… one thing.”Evelyn turned slowly. “Say it.”“Several institutional accounts are delaying secondary buys. They’re waiting on… clarification.”“Clarification of what?”He hesitated. “Ownership structu