Novels by Tim

(Damon's POV)I went back to my office after visiting the auction house.Elias looked so calm that it gave me chills. Something about him didn't feel right.I sat down in my chair. Then I looked at the files Marco had brought me earlier.I opened one of the files and read it carefully."Someone else is playing this game with me," I thought. "These fake identities can't just be a coincidence. Whoever is behind this is always one step ahead of me. But the real question is... whose side are they on?"The last clue in the file pointed to an old, abandoned building.I picked up my phone and called Marco.He answered right away."Hello, boss," he said in a calm voice."Marco," I said, "I want you to check that abandoned building. It's the last clue in the file. Find out everything you can and report back to me.""Yes, boss," he replied.I ended the call. A few seconds later, Sebastian walked into my office."Hey, Uncle," he said.Uncle Sebastian looked at me for a few seconds."You look

Elias' POVThe auction house felt quieter than usual Or maybe I was the one who saw it that way. I stood at my workbench, carefully brushing dust from the edge of a seventeenth-century manuscript while trying very hard not to think about the man who had walked into my workspace yesterday and turned an ordinary afternoon into something I still couldn't explain."You've been staring at that page for the longest time now."Mrs. Holloway's amused voice pulled me back to the present. I looked up and found her smiling at me from the next workbench. She had worked at the auction house longer than anyone else, and despite insisting she was close to retirement every year, she never seemed any closer to leaving."I have not," I said.She shook her head, then set down the antique frame she had been cleaning and folded her arms."Yesterday's client?"I hesitated for only a second before nodding. "He wasn't exactly easy to please."Mrs. Holloway chuckled softly. "One difficult client doesn't erase

DamonI slept for three hours. Not because I couldn't sleep but because every time I closed my eyes, I saw the same person.Elias Vance.I kept thinking that he should have been furious yesterday. He should have defended himself, probably raising his voice or making excuses, instead he apologized for a mistake most people would never have noticed.Even after I embarrassed him in front of his colleagues, he had simply offered to let someone else handle the job. In a tone that carried no resentment or pride.Nothing. I took the remaining glass of whiskey I had been drinking before and poured it down my throat in one gulp, allowing the hot sensation take over me. I shook my head in quick succession and combed through my hair with my fingers before walking toward the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.Something about him refused to make sense.People didn't survive the kind of life he'd lived without becoming bitter.Unless, It was all an act like Marco suggested. That had to

Elias POVMorning had always been my favorite time of day. The city hadn't fully woken up yet, and for a little while, it felt like the world forgot who I was.I opened the window above the sink and let the cool breeze drift into my tiny apartment. The first thing I did every morning was water the potted jasmine sitting on the windowsill.It had belonged to my mother. I wasn't particularly good with plants, but this one had somehow survived years of my inconsistent care."You're tougher than you look," I murmured, pouring the last of the water into the pot. I made myself two slices of toast, fried an egg, and ate while reading the day's schedule on my phone.Nothing unusual. A restoration project in the morning and an authentication appointment after lunch.I washed my plate, grabbed my satchel, and locked the apartment behind me. The familiar orange stray cat was already waiting beside the front steps."You're early."It meowed once. I smiled and crouched to place a small packet of c

Damon POVVictor Vance died few days ago.Now it was his son's turn.Hatred didn't die with the people who deserved it. Sometimes, it simply found someone else to bury itself in.The floor-to-ceiling windows behind my desk overlooked the city. Glass towers reflected the afternoon sun, traffic crawled through the streets below, and somewhere beneath it all, thousands of people went about their lives without realizing whose decisions kept this city breathing.Or bleeding.My office was silent except for the faint ticking of the antique clock mounted on the wall. A knock broke the silence."Come in."Marco stepped inside, closing the door behind him. He placed a thin folder on my desk."Victor Vance died..."I cut in without looking at him. "I know."He wasn't surprised by my answer. News like that reached me long before it reached anyone else.For a few seconds, neither of us spoke. Then I asked the only question that mattered."And his son?""He's still living in the same apartment."I

EliasThe cemetery stood on a quiet stretch of land at the edge of the city. Inside its iron gates, rows of polished marble headstones caught the morning sun. Fresh flowers rested on neatly trimmed graves, and families moved carefully between them with buckets of water and small gardening tools. Some stood in silence while others laughed softly as they shared old memories with the people they had lost.My parents weren't buried there.I walked past the entrance without slowing down and followed the narrow path running alongside the cemetery wall. The farther I went, the fewer people I saw. The paved walkway led to a dry, uneven ground covered with stubborn weeds.At the end of the path lay two simple mounds of earth with no marble or carved names. No flowers left behind by visitors too.Just two weathered wooden crosses standing side by side.Victor Vance and Grace Vance.The names had almost faded completely. No cemetery in the city had wanted my father after he died in prison. The a