Walten Files Banny Novels & Stories

We continue to innovate with high-quality, long-form journalism and cultural reporting. The lift door slides open on my floor, and Zulaa Whitby, my Executive Assistant, is standing there waiting for me. How she does it I don't even know anymore; she seems to know my movements at every hour of the day. Sometimes I half suspect that she has micro-chipped me without my knowledge. “Sir, Svan Kann came by your office thirty minutes ago,” Zulaa says in her low, efficient voice. “Svan?” I raise an eyebrow. “She came herself? She didn’t send one of her people?”

The crowd erupted in an uproar. Kenneth had not expected me to have a backup plan. He shouted angrily, "Don't believe her! She's a scheming woman who's always framing others!" "Really?" I shot back sarcastically. "The public isn't blind. Let them judge for themselves. Why are you getting so worked up all of a sudden?" As I spoke, I played the video on my phone. Burned once in my previous life, I had learned my lesson. This time around, I had befriended the banquet hall manager early on. Every move in the hall had been recorded from start to finish and downloaded onto my phone.

“Too late for that.” That night, I woke to gunfire. Alarms shrieked across HALCYON. Rebels had infiltrated the east wing. But they weren’t aiming for the servers. They were heading straight for Wren. I fought my way through smoke and blood. Reached the vault just as they breached it. The firefight was brutal. Ruthless. I killed without hesitation. Because Wren had the file. And if Valen got it. If Ivy saw it, She would never recover.

I hated how unfazed Benny looked, how composed he always managed to be, even now. All because of him, I had Walter working double shifts trying to track Ivana’s location. Her phone had suddenly gone off, all thanks to Benny. Also, she had no activity on social media, no traceable bank transactions. Not even a blip on airline logs. “New York is a dead end,” Walter had told me minutes ago over a secured line. My jaw clenched at his report. “Check again.” I said through my teeth. Walter had hesitated before he replied quietly, “There’s nothing to check.”

With a heavy grunt and a forceful tug the drawer opens and I take the files and pictures inside and scatter them across the top of the desk. There pictures of Ferrah and Carter along with pictures of her brother in the silver cells. Thers letters and blood notes in the files along with what seem to be contracts and other documents. Gathering it all back up I tuck the drawer back into the desk and the files and folders into he small messenger bag I have over my shoulder. Noises come from the hall outside the office door and I slip out the window right as it bursts open and Banner walks in with a small Brunett women held tightly by the throat.

Walter began, his voice a whisper laden with hidden intentions, "I'd like to take this opportunity to introduce you to someone..." Before I could process his words, his hand closed tightly around my waist, drawing me into his side. "...I'd like to introduce you to my girlfriend, Hester Winters." The statement, delivered with chilling calm, echoed through the room like a clap of thunder. The silence was abruptly broken by a deafening roar that shook the walls. A dark and dangerous aura emanated from Bennett, a raging beast about to break free. Those present recoiled, some trembling, others seeking refuge in Walter's towering figure.

"But Vane—" "Vane is safe," he said, pulling the car into a dark alleyway near the river and shutting off the engine. The city sounds faded, replaced by the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers. He turned to me, his eyes dark and wild in the dashboard light. "I have enough cash in the offshore accounts to keep Vane in the best clinic in Switzerland for fifty years, Sera. I don't need her money. I don't need the Vanguard merger. I just needed time to get the files from Elias."