Novels by Raven Writer

The cold night air clung to Mark’s skin as he stood beneath the flickering streetlamp. The roar of the SUVs’ engines faded behind him as they came to a sudden stop, but his attention was locked on the figure standing calmly in the center of the road.A voice—calm, smooth, and deliberate—cut through the silence.“Mark Ryder. It’s time we talked.”Mark’s muscles tensed, every instinct screaming that this was a trap. He took a slow, cautious step forward, his gun steady in his hand. “Who are you?”The figure shifted slightly, stepping into the pale glow of the streetlamp. The face that emerged from the shadows was lean, sharp-jawed, with salt-and-pepper hair swept neatly back. His tailored black coat and composed demeanor suggested influence—money, power.“I go by many names,” the man said, his expression unreadable. “But for tonight, you can call me Mr. Black.”Mark’s eyes narrowed. “You work for Rook.”A faint smile tugged at the man’s lips. “Rook doesn’t have employees. He has assets.

The oppressive silence of the abandoned courthouse pressed against Mark’s senses as he stared down Mr. Finch, the man’s smirk a deliberate provocation. Finch sat back in his chair, completely at ease despite the weapons trained on him.Felicia stood next to Mark, her breath steady but her hand clenched tightly around his arm. She could feel the tension radiating off him, the barely restrained fury simmering beneath his calm exterior.Nathan and Grayson flanked the room’s entrance, their weapons raised and ready. Finch’s smugness wasn’t arrogance—it was calculated. He knew something they didn’t.Mark finally broke the silence, his voice sharp. “Where is Rook?”Finch raised an eyebrow, the faintest hint of amusement flickering across his face. “You think walking into this courthouse will hand you all the answers? Rook isn’t someone you find, Mr. Ryder. Rook finds you.”Grayson took a step closer, her weapon steady. “You don’t seem too concerned about being found. Is that because you’re

Grayson knelt beside Caldwell’s lifeless body, her hand pressed against the warm pool of blood spreading beneath him. The faint hum of distant footsteps made her instincts scream to move, but she remained frozen for a moment.Caldwell’s final words echoed in her mind: “They’re everywhere… and they’ve already won.”Her grip tightened on her weapon, her sharp eyes darting toward the corridor. Whoever had fired that shot was long gone. A professional. No mistakes, no witnesses.But the truth hadn’t died with Caldwell. Not yet.She searched his pockets quickly, finding a secure USB drive tucked inside his jacket. She slipped it into her coat, rising just as the sound of approaching guards forced her to retreat into the shadows.Meanwhile – The Underground GarageMark arrived just as Felicia emerged from the service stairwell, her face pale but her steps determined.“Felicia!” he called, his heart racing as he closed the distance between them.She turned, relief flashing in her eyes for ju

The moment the lights flickered, the tension in the grand hall of the Whitehall Estate spiked like a live wire. Guests exchanged wary glances, but the guards were already mobilizing, their hands on their weapons as the security system powered down.Felicia’s breath caught in her throat as she watched the vault’s bulletproof glass begin to hiss open. Her mind raced. Who else is here for the ledger?Mark’s voice came through the comm link in her ear. “Felicia, don’t move. Grayson and I are on our way to the auction floor.”Felicia’s eyes darted across the room, landing on Caldwell. He hadn’t moved. The president stood near the far wall, his face unreadable as he spoke quietly to one of his aides. The way his lips tightened, the subtle flicker of unease in his eyes—it was clear he hadn’t planned for this interruption either.But Caldwell wasn’t a man easily thrown off balance.Felicia whispered into the comm, “Caldwell looks rattled, but he’s not leaving. Whatever happens here, he wants

The rain had eased, but tension hung heavier than the storm as the van skidded to a halt under the cover of an abandoned train depot on the outskirts of Black City. Rusted metal beams loomed above them, the scent of damp earth and oil lingering in the air.The escape had bought them minutes, but Mark knew minutes were never enough.Grayson killed the engine, the van settling into a tense silence.Nathan was the first to break it, his voice controlled but tight. “We can’t stay here long. Caldwell will have already flagged the city’s surveillance grid. He’s going to lock down the entire district looking for you both.”Mark was still gripping Felicia’s hand, but his mind was elsewhere—calculating, planning, searching for the angle they hadn’t yet seen. He turned to Nathan, his voice razor-sharp.“We can’t keep running. We need to be two steps ahead of Caldwell. You said the ledger wasn’t just financial records. You said it was a blueprint for corruption in this city. Where’s the real one

The world seemed to slow in the aftermath of the explosion.Glass crunched beneath Mark’s boots as he shifted, his arms still protectively wrapped around Felicia. Her rapid breathing matched the racing of his own heart, but he kept his focus on the shadows outside the blown-out window.The figure in the gray suit stepped forward through the swirling smoke, the red laser sights of his tactical team sweeping across the room.Nathan pressed himself against the wall, gun raised but not yet firing. Grayson crouched low near the door, her weapon trained on the intruders but her finger not yet on the trigger.It wasn’t a firefight—yet.The man spoke, his voice calm but authoritative, the tone of someone used to giving orders.“Mark Ryder. Felicia Blackwood. You’re both coming with us. Step out quietly, and no one else has to get hurt.”Mark didn’t move. His mind was running through every possible scenario. Surrender meant death. Fighting was a death wish too—outnumbered, outgunned. But there