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Stephen King: "Put me down as an enthusiastic Christopher Smith fan. Smith is a cultural genius.
Look beneath all the power and all the wealth that represents New York City's Fifth Avenue, and you'll find greed, blood, revenge.
In the international best-selling thriller "Fifth Avenue," each intermingles within a revered society that's shaken to its core when one man finally decides to destroy another man for murdering his wife thirty-one years ago.
Louis Ryan is that man. George Redman, his wife, two daughters and their close friends are his targets. The moment Ryan hires an international assassin to literally rip the Redman family apart, a series of events that can't be stopped catapults them all through a fast-paced, hard-edged thriller in which nobody is safe.
Secrets are revealed. Sex lives are exposed. The Mafia get involved. And George's two daughters, Celina and Leana Redman, are suddenly caught in the throes of their father's past as Louis Ryan's blind desire to kill them all takes surprising turns in his all-out effort to see them dead.
THE FIFTH AVENUE SERIES has sold more than three million books in a dozen languages. They should be read in this order:
Running of the Bulls
From Manhattan with Love
From Manhattan with Revenge
A Rush to Violence
George was about to speak when the woman started to frisk him. Her hands were quick and thorough. She looked at Spocatti when he leaned inside the open door. “He’s clean,” she said. Spocatti glanced at Michael and George. “Jesus,” he said. “Would you look at yourselves? You’d think we were going to a morgue, not a party. Lighten the hell up.” CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR Music swelled, a sharp burst of applause followed, and Leana moved through the crowd. She smiled at people she didn’t know,
wondered why. She handed Harold his martini. “This will kick your ass to the moon.” “I know it will.” “Great. So, let’s kick our asses together.” They touched glasses and drank. “Can we talk in private?” Harold asked. He tossed back the martini and nodded toward Leana’s full glass. “You’re such an amateur,” he said. “Is that the best you can do? Drink up. Something tells me you’re not going to like what I have to say.” They followed a wave of instant celebrities and old money past the
“You don’t think so? Then tell me why Celina’s on the board of this goddamned conglomerate, and I’m not.” “Your sister has worked hard to get where she is.” “If I had been given the opportunities she was given, I also would have worked hard.” She lifted her head. “So, tell me, why was I shipped off to Switzerland when I could have gone to school here—as Celina did—and work for Redman International—as Celina did.” “You know I don’t have the answer to that, Leana.” “I know you don’t, but if
Leana wondered again why she had been concerned for her family’s safety. After all the times her parents ignored her, after all the times they chose Celina over herself, how could she possibly have any feelings for them besides contempt? “No,” she said. “I don’t know them at all.” CHAPTER THREE High above Fifth Avenue, Louis Ryan sat in his corner office, his back to a wall of windows and the new Redman International Building that towered in the near distance. He was at his desk and
since his arrival at New York Hospital. Louis stood. “What would you like?” he asked. “I have everything.” “Scotch?” “Fine.” He watched Ryan walk to the bar. He wondered what the man wanted from him. Louis knew for years that he had been an executive at Redman International. Was it that? Did Ryan want information of some sort? Or did it have to do with Celina? All of Manhattan knew they were once an item. Did this meeting have something to do with her? Or did it have to do with George? The