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The Secret Whisperer
Last Updated : 2025-03-24
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Leila, a young Austrian aristocrat and student in Classics, is drawn into a world of conspiracy and danger when her aunt is involved in a suspicious car accident. Leila travels to her aunt’s chalet to take care of her husky, but soon discovers a body in the drawing room. Terrified, she runs out and bumps into Dick, a nosy English banker who becomes entangled in the mystery. When they return to the drawing room, the body has disappeared. Leila takes the husky for a walk and discovers that the body has been moved to a house recently purchased by another branch of her family. She finds a notebook with encrypted entries in the drawing room and uses her linguistic skills to decode them. She discovers the initials, address, and phone number of someone involved in the plot. Leila calls the number and is warned against getting involved. Undeterred, she discovers a bizarre research center where a conference on German mystical past is taking place.She suspects that there is a bizarre cult operating underground. Leila learns about their plan to topple every democracy in Europe. The cult is after an artifact that may be hidden in her aunt’s chalet. However, this is only the tip of the iceberg. Leila discovers that the aristocratic cult members are pawns in a larger game. They are unknowingly being manipulated to cause disruption in the European banking system using an AI virus.The chaos will cause turmoil in the Euro zone. As Leila and her aunt race against time to stop the virus from being unleashed, they uncover an even more shocking truth: Leila’s own family members are part of the conspiracy. With betrayal and danger at every turn, Leila must use all of her wit to outsmart the cult.
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The Secret Whisperer 26
Christina’s eyes went dark, like someone had just switched off the chandelier in a grand ballroom. “My father had an old mask in his collection,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s still somewhere in the attic. He used to tell me this wild story about Nazis organizing a secret expedition to find it. He was pleased to have it, of course. You’re telling me it’s a fake?”Dick Jones gave her a look that could’ve cut through stone. “Not quite. Your piece is a replica—at least three hundred years old, according to Yellen. What bothers me is Yellen came here looking for it and ended up dead. Yet the attic didn’t look disturbed. The mask was still there. That’s what makes my skin itch.”A faint cloud of hesitation swept over Christina’s face, and her eyes misted like fogged glass. “Oh my God. That poor man. I can’t stop thinking about him.”Dick didn’t bother softening his words. “I wouldn’t if I were you. It’s likely Yellen came here to kill you. Somebody else intervened. I’ve
Last Updated : 2025-03-24The Secret Whisperer 25
Nosy Dick—or rather, Agent Richard Jones—sat at Christina’s Black Forest table, stripping off his black leather gloves like he was settling in for afternoon tea. Snow dripped off his blue puffer coat in mournful little puddles. Wolfie eyed him suspiciously from her spot by the fire, giving the occasional low grumble just to make sure Dick knew where he stood on the guest list.Leila folded her arms and leaned against the 18th century cast iron stove, casually holding the rifle. “You scared the light out of us, Mr Jones. Sneaking around in the dark is a great way to get shot, you know. Or mauled. Wolfie’s pretty territorial about her lounge space.”Dick gave her a weary smirk, not bothering to even glance at the unnerved husky. “You’d be amazed how often I get shot at. Mostly by people more competent than you.” He pulled a neat silver flask from his coat pocket and took a swig, pulling his face as if the whisky had punched him in the throat. “Honestly, I didn’t think I’d have to break
Last Updated : 2025-03-23The Secret Whisperer 24
The snow was still falling when Leila pulled the threadbare quilt tighter around her shoulders and glanced over at the notebook lying open on the low table. It looked innocent enough, the cracked leather and yellowed pages giving it the vibe of something that ought to be filled with long-forgotten recipes or notes on which fertilizer worked best for dahlias. But inside she found something else —a mess of Gothic architecture sketches, topographical diagrams and hastily written notes that looked like the fevered scribbling of a medieval cartographer gone mad.“That’s remarkable. Where did you find it?” Christina asked with a notch of suspicion.“Here, in the chalet, in that hidden place I’ve told you about. Wolfie and I were saving the owl that managed to get in through the broken attic window.”Christina leaned closer to the lantern’s dim light, tracing the hasty ink sketch with her finger. The combination of drawings, faint script and crude shapes made the page look like a treasure ma
Last Updated : 2025-03-23The Secret Whisperer 23
Leila pulled up to Christina’s hideaway, the car’s headlights slicing through the frostbitten gloom. The house sat hunched against the snow, a dark silhouette of pine and cold secrets. She’d driven fast—too fast for the icy roads—but when your aunt called with that tone, you didn’t stop to admire the scenery. Inside, the room was a furnace. The black iron stove glowed like it was working overtime, and the wood stacked high in the corner promised it wasn’t getting a break anytime soon. Christina was in her usual spot, a blanket over her knees, looking like the queen of a tiny, crumbling empire. Her eyes, though, were sharp and on point, pinning Leila like a hawk spotting prey. “Lock the door,” Christina said. No hello, no pleasantries. Leila did as she was told, the click of the deadbolt echoing louder than it should. “What’s going on?” she asked, pulling off her gloves. She kept her tone light, but her gut was doing flips. Christina didn’t answer right away. Instead, she pulled
Last Updated : 2025-01-30The Secret Whisperer 22
That afternoon Leila was waiting for him in wane, as Tom got distracted. His boss decided to pay an unexpected visit. The winter sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting a soft glow through the tinted windows of Tom’s high-tech office when Mikhail Grossman decided to darken the door. The man loomed like a storm cloud in an Armani suit, his scowl deep enough to hide a weapon. “Evening, Mikhail,” Tom said with the ease of a man greeting an old friend rather than a mafia boss who snaps necks like breadsticks. He wondered whether Mikhail Grossman heard the news about Vlad. Tom leaned back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” “Cut the pleasantries, Tomas,” Grossman growled. His voice was a low rumble, the kind that preceded an earthquake. “You know why I’m here. Your work. The Green Dragon virus—you’re going to hand it over. Now.” Tom chuckled and tapped his fingers on the scratched surface of his desk, where beneath lay layers of encrypted
Last Updated : 2025-01-29The Secret Whisperer 21
A tiny, no larger than a pack of cigarettes, combat drone silently fell off the roof two floors above the office where Vlad Voronin was glued to the computer screen. It smoothly descended to his window, peeked out stealthily from behind the wall and froze in the upper left corner. The cameras adjusted the focus to Vlad’s stand-alone laptop. The camera was filming the program commands running in a fast line on a black background.The owner of the computer had no idea about all that. He was busy with the guest. Smiling snottily, Voronin pulled the flash drive out of the laptop and put it inside a small brown envelope.‘That’s perfect,’ he patted his guest on the shoulder.‘I have to return it,’ the guest muttered nervously stretching out his hand. ‘My share, as agreed?’‘Don’t worry,’ Voronin frowned. ‘Assume that you don’t owe us anything anymore. '‘Fine. You have to give me a receipt. For the records.’‘OK,OK. You’ve become too suspicious, Ash,’ Vlad pulled out a four-fold piece of p
Last Updated : 2025-01-29The Secret Whisperer 20
Leila slipped into Tom’s car, slamming the door a little harder than she intended. The cold outside had followed her in, clinging to her like a bad mood. Tom turned to Leila, one hand on the wheel, the other fiddling with the heater dial. His sharp suit looked a little rumpled, which for him was akin to disheveled.“You didn’t freeze to death out there, did you?” he asked, his voice light, but his eyes checking up her face like he was scanning for damage.“Nope, still alive,” Leila said, tugging off her gloves. “But I’m starting to think that Christina’s place is more of a treasure chest than a house.”Tom raised an eyebrow. “Treasure chest? You planning to dig up the back garden next?”Leila leaned back, the seat warmer kicking in. “Something like that. You wouldn’t believe half of it if I told you.”“Try me,” Tom said, pulling onto the snowy road. His car was too clean, too new, a spaceship gliding over a frozen landscape. “I left work to be here, so you owe me something good.”Leil
Last Updated : 2025-01-29The Secret Whisperer 19
The Gatekeeper was as calm and unbothered as a man ordering a drink at a bar. “There’s another spy among us,” he said.The room reaction was not unlike a shot of cheap tequila—sharp, immediate, and nauseating. Twelve masked faces froze. No one moved, no one breathed. If paranoia had a sound, it would have been the faint rustle of fine fabric. You could feel the change in the air - suddenly heavy, toxic, like everyone had realized they were holding a hand grenade with no pin.Thronebearer was the first to speak. He always was. “Another spy,” he repeated, rolling the words around like a bad aftertaste. “How… disappointing.”His iron crown caught the light, casting jagged shadows across the scratched oak table. He tilted his head toward the Gatekeeper, his tone clipped. “Who?”The Gatekeeper didn’t answer right away. He liked his drama slow-cooked. Instead, he walked over to a side table, his every step measured. Beneath a red velvet cloth lay something nobody wanted to think about—a but
Last Updated : 2025-01-23The Secret Whisperer 18
Linda Stern arrived at the library just after seven, dressed for the lead role in The Clichéd Spy. She wore tight black jeans, a shapeless hooded jacket that might’ve been trendy in 1997, a black acrylic scarf was wrapped around her blonde head like she was about to rob a petrol station. The sunglasses would be a nice touch, but Linda reckoned that would be too Men in Black.The library door had a handwritten sign taped to it: “Closed for Technical Reasons.” That might as well have said, “Suspicious activity happening here—please sniff around with care.”Linda knocked anyway, her fist pounding the heavy wood like she was trying to wake the dead. When no one answered, she leaned on the buzzer with all the subtlety of a foghorn.The door creaked open just enough to reveal a small man with a potato-shaped nose, a face so pale it could’ve doubled as a flashlight, and ginger eyebrows that looked like they were glued on. He wore a black sweater turtleneck and black synthetic trousers that ha
Last Updated : 2025-01-21
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Her aunt’s winter place was a nineteenth century Belle Epoque, dark brown with orange shutters, adorned with a round turret. The high snowdrifts on both sides of the porch were untouched for several days. Muddy corrugated icicles as thick as Leila’s arm dangerously dangled from the roof.‘I wish somebody would teach that beast to open the door,’ Leila Weinrich whispered with frustration.That was too much to ask of Wolfie. She was a smart dog, sure, but expecting her to be a porter on top of being cute? Not fair! Leila struggled with the shopping bags in one hand and the satchel filled with books dangling from her elbow. She searched her pockets and pulled out the key.She unlocked the front door and budged through the dusky hall that smelled of open fire. The antique set of German armor gleamed at her with fresh polish. She turned left into the narrow corridor, and pushed the door to the drawing room open. She was surprised the dog didn’t show up.‘Wolfie!’ Leila called out.The capri...
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