Lya and the undertaker
Lya's mourning lasted exactly eleven days. Until a stranger gunned down an assassin in the middle of her living room.
"You have two minutes to pack a bag."
He had gray eyes, the coldness of a glacier, and a terrifying knack for methodical violence. Officially, Viktor Hale was a funeral director. Unofficially, he was a ghost. A former shadow spy, worn down and formidable, whom the government believed to be dead. Thrown into the back of a stolen hearse, with only this icy man and a piggish ginger cat for company, Lya plunged into an absolute nightmare. Her recently deceased mother hadn't just left her an empty apartment: she'd hidden an old blue notebook containing a scientific equation capable of razing an entire region. And a government agency was ready to do anything to get its hands on it. The hunt began. From the damp city cellars to the booby-trapped basements of a remote mountain mansion, the escape is a matter of seconds.
But midway through the chase, the real mystery is revealed: why would this master of disappearance, who meticulously calculates every detail to avoid being caught, risk his life for a stranger? What secret bound him to Lya's mother? And what is the meaning of the white handkerchief, embroidered with two initials, that he always keeps close to his heart?
A gripping spy thriller that grabs you from the very first page. No gadgets, no invincible heroes: just ruthless logistics, the clang of metal in the night, and the unexpected humanity of a duo who have nothing left to lose.
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