Novels by D. Safitri

Caevrik didn’t move for a long minute. He stared at the smoldering cigar stub on the floorboards, the thin ribbon of smoke rising like a ghostly finger pointing directly at his failure. He had been too focused on the giants to notice the man walking right behind him.He reached for his burner phone and tapped a sequence. "Vane. We have a problem.""What’s up? You sound like you just saw a ghost," Vane’s voice crackled, sounding distracted by the clicking of a keyboard."Velk was here. In the room. While I was out," Caevrik said, his voice a low, dangerous vibration."Wait, the detective? How? I thought we had the perimeter monitored!""He’s good, Vane. Better than I gave him credit for. He didn't arrest me. He didn't take the ledger. He just... left a cigar. He’s letting me know he’s watching the board.""That’s not a problem, C, that’s a nightmare. If he’s got eyes on you, we’re done. Shut it down. Go to the backup site in the Outer District.""No," Caevrik said, his eyes hardening a

Caevrik stepped into the dim hallway of the Lowside tenement, the scent of damp wood and boiled cabbage clinging to the peeling wallpaper. He reached the door to 2B, his fingers instinctively checking the thin, transparent hair he’d wedged into the frame earlier. It was gone.He didn't reach for a weapon. He didn't have one, and more importantly, he didn't need one. He simply adjusted his posture, letting his shoulders slump and his eyes lose their predatory sheen. He pushed the door open."You’re late for a man who’s supposed to be hiding from the world, Dorneth."Detective Othran Velk was sitting in the room’s only chair, his feet propped up on the edge of the sagging bed. He was flipping through a stack of grainy, black-and-white printouts.Caevrik leaned against the doorframe, letting out a long, weary sigh. "The bus system in the Lowside isn't exactly calibrated for convenience, Detective. What are you doing here? I thought I gave my statement.""You gave a statement, yeah. It wa

The shadows of the alleyway seemed to swallow Caevrik whole as he walked away from the Grand Meridian. His footsteps were light, a sharp contrast to the heavy, frantic energy still pulsating from the hotel behind him. He reached the end of the block, where a lone, flickering streetlamp illuminated a dented payphone—a relic of a bygone era, and exactly what he needed.He pulled out the burner phone Vane had provided and checked the coordinates again. Then, he dialed a number he’d memorized from the Krossel’s private directory years ago."Yeah? Who's this?" a sharp, impatient voice barked after three rings.Caevrik leaned his forehead against the cold metal of the phone booth. "Is this Mr. Jarev Malken? The man who’s about to become the largest landowner in the district?"There was a long pause on the other end. The sound of a glass clinking against a table drifted through the line. "Depends on who’s asking. And how they got this number. This is a private line.""I’m a friend, Mr. Malke

The cool air hit Caevrik’s face as he turned the corner, the red glow of the digital news ticker fading behind him. He didn’t look back at the chaos he’d orchestrated; he was already thinking three moves ahead.He pulled a burner phone from his pocket and hit a speed-dial button."Hey, Vane. You still there?""Where else would I be? I'm watching the news, C. You really did a number on him. The guy looks like he’s about to have a heart attack on live TV.""It’s not enough. He’s still standing. He’s going to the Orchid Gala tonight at the Grand Meridian.""Are you serious? After getting his assets frozen? That’s ballsy.""It’s desperation, Vane. He needs to convince his remaining investors that he’s still the big shark in the pond. If he doesn't show up, he's admitting defeat. He’ll be there, and his wife Evelyn will be right next to him, playing the loyal spouse.""So, what's the plan? You gonna blow the place up?""Don't be dramatic. I need a uniform. Service staff. Catering. And I ne

The ash-filled hallway felt like a tomb, but as Caevrik stepped back into the morning light, the "broken man" mask settled perfectly onto his features. He walked past the yellow police tape, his head bowed."Hey, pops! You okay?" a patrolman called out, leaning against his cruiser.Caevrik stopped, wiping a smear of soot from his cheek. "I’ll be fine, Officer. Just… I didn’t think I’d be packing my life into a coat pocket today.""Yeah, life's a trip," the officer said, shaking his head. "You got a place to stay? The city’s got shelters for—""I have a cousin in the Outer District," Caevrik lied, his voice a frail reed. "I’ll head there. Thank you for your kindness.""Take care of yourself. Don't let the smoke stay in your lungs.""I won't. Thank you."Caevrik walked until he was three blocks away, then his gait shifted. The shuffle vanished, replaced by a stride that was efficient and ghost-quiet. He hailed a battered yellow cab on the corner of 4th and Main."Where to, pal?" the dri

The smoke from the Krossel manor hadn’t quite settled into the gray morning sky. It hung low, a heavy shroud smelling of expensive cedar, charred upholstery, and the metallic tang of blood that no amount of fire could fully mask. Caevrik Dorneth sat on a blackened stone bench near the fountain, his hands trembling with a rhythmic precision that would have fooled any onlooker."Hey, buddy. You still with us?"Caevrik looked up, his eyes dull and watery. A junior officer stood over him, holding a paper cup that smelled of scorched beans and lukewarm water."I'm here," Caevrik said, his voice cracking just enough. "I think. It’s hard to tell where the nightmare ends and this begins."The officer sighed, handing him the cup. "Drink it. It’s terrible, but it’ll stop the shivering. Name’s Miller. I’m real sorry about the Krossels. They seemed like... well, they were the Krossels, weren't they?""They were my life for twenty years," Caevrik whispered, taking a sip. He winced. "You’re right.