Novels by Jenny reeds

Adrian’s POVThe metal of the safety-deposit-box key was cold against my palm.I was still staring at the handwritten note. *For when you need it most. — N.V.* My mind kept turning the same questions over and over. How did a simple man like Mr. Ricci end up holding something that belonged to my father? What was inside that bank box that was worth dying for?“Adrian.”Victoria’s voice was sharp. I looked up. She was staring at my hand. At the key.“What did you find?” she demanded.I held it up between two fingers. Before she could take it, her eyes dropped to the open bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. There was a thick, leather-bound folder tucked behind a false bottom that I hadn’t noticed until the drawer flew open.Victoria pushed past me. She grabbed the folder and flipped it open under the weak basement light.Her face went pale.“Victoria?” I asked. “What is it?”She didn’t answer. She started flipping through the pages. But I stepped closer, looking over her shoulder.It was

Adrian’s POVI stared at the photograph on Dominic’s phone until the image burned into the back of my eyes.The body bag being loaded into a coroner’s van. The yellow crime-scene tape. The flashing blue lights reflecting off wet pavement.Mr. Ricci. Seventy years old. He used to slip an extra bag of pasta into my grocery bag when he thought I wasn’t looking. He fixed the boiler with duct tape and pure stubbornness. He never raised the rent even when the neighborhood around us got worse. He was a good man.And now he was dead. Because of me.“The police are looking for you,” Dominic said. His voice was tight. He paced the marble floor of the Volkov Tower lobby like a man who had already calculated every bad outcome. “They found your name in his records. They know about the eviction notice. They know about the fire. They’re calling it a revenge killing.”Victoria snapped her briefcase shut. “We need to get him out of the city. Now. I have a private jet on standby at Linate. If the polic

Adrian’s POVThe elevator ride to the top floor took less than a minute.It felt longer.Enzo stood in the corner with those dead gray eyes locked on me the entire time. Silas stayed half a step behind him, one hand resting inside his jacket like the gun was already half drawn. Victoria stood shoulder-to-shoulder with me, leather briefcase clutched tight against her chest. Raven remained silent near the doors, eyes scanning every reflection in the polished metal walls.The soft chime sounded. The doors slid open.We stepped out into a massive corner room that felt more like a glass cage than an office. Floor-to-ceiling windows looked out over Milan. Morning light poured in so bright it almost hurt. Polished concrete floors. A long mahogany table that could have seated twenty. Six people already sat around it in expensive suits. Every single one of them looked at me the way people look at something that has stuck to the bottom of their shoe.Enzo walked past me without a word and took

Adrian’s POV - Day 1 of 90“Wake up.”Victoria’s voice cut through the dark at exactly 6:00 a.m.I had slept four hours on a narrow cot in the corner of the bunker. My body ached. My mind was still spinning with shipping ledgers, arms dealing, and the cold knowledge that my father was a criminal. The silver necklace under my shirt felt heavier than usual.I showered in the tiny bathroom, shaved with a cheap disposable razor that scraped too hard, and put on the navy blue suit Victoria had left hanging on the door. It was my father’s. It fit perfectly. Wearing it felt like climbing into a coffin that had already been measured for someone else.I walked into the main room. Victoria stood by the door with her briefcase. Dominic waited near the stairs, pale and restless. Raven stood at the bank of security monitors. She wasn’t cleaning weapons. She was locked on the screen, completely still.“We have a problem,” she said.She turned one monitor toward us. The camera feed showed the alley

Adrian’s POV“Where the hell are we going?”My voice came out rough, scraped raw from the rain and the shouting. The back seat of Raven’s SUV smelled like gunpowder and expensive leather. Water dripped from my hair onto the dark seats. My clothes stuck to my skin. Every time the vehicle hit a bump, glass from the shattered rear window shifted under my boots.I sat in the middle, staring at the back of Dominic Voss’s silver head. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I kept seeing my apartment. The small studio I had hated every single day. The leaky ceiling. The worn-out couch that sagged in the middle. And the photo album. The only pictures I still had of my mother. All of it turned to ash while I sat in a dive bar drinking five-euro wine.A cold, hard rage settled in my chest. It was sharper than anything I had ever felt. Damien had taken my job. Enzo had taken my home. And now I was sitting between two strangers who expected me to trust them with my life.Raven’s eyes flicked to the rear

Adrian’s POV“You’re still here.”The bartender’s voice cut through the low noise of the dive bar. He wiped a glass that would never get clean and looked at me like I was already dead.I didn’t answer. I just lifted the cheap glass of red wine and forced another swallow. It tasted like vinegar and defeat. Five euros. That was all I had left after the twelve in my pocket. Everything else had been frozen by Damien Cross before the sun even reached the middle of the sky.The bar smelled like stale beer, old cigarette smoke, and something sour that lived in the floorboards. Peeling wallpaper curled away from the walls like it was trying to escape. A muted football match played on a television in the corner that nobody watched. I sat in the farthest booth, back against the wall, staring at nothing.Every time I closed my eyes I saw Damien’s face. That soft, snake smile. The way he leaned in close and told me I was finished. The way the security guards dragged me through the showroom while