The House Next Door. Alba Longa, #2

For more than three decades, a handful of brilliant forgers, all of them at the same time renowned painters, worked so hard and so well that today no one can put their hand in the fire and say, without batting an eyelid, that they possess the original of this or that painting, of any famous painter, of this or no matter what other era. The scientific experts, skilled in the most modern techniques of dating and attribution, the most prestigious gallery owners, art historians, auctioneers, and other intervenors in the field, have all let slip fakes that have consequently been catalogued as authentic and sold as such.
The existence of two and even three or more apocrypha of many of them was later discovered. A strict censorship has been imposed on the media; a real veto has fallen from the highest levels that has turned the subject into a sacred taboo. For if it were to spread, panic would spread, as distrust spreads regarding what the system has turned into the supreme currency of exchange, which not only never devalues itself, but has, in recent years, increased in value according to a geometrical progression.
The safe-haven value that has more than replaced gold. The elites who hold absolute power would lose colossal amounts of money and their influence would be diminished, to the detriment of their unspeakable projects. With a perfect mastery of the technique of thriller and suspense, Alba Longa tells us the story in which he himself was involved and, during which, he almost cost him his skin. THE HOUSE NEXT DOOR is set in cosmopolitan Nice that is about to experience the most dramatic events in its history.
To tell the truth, you don't come out well reading this novel. The reader is left with the impression that the most sacred words in the world today: freedom, democracy, human rights, social progress and so many others, are nothing but manufactured mirages, a smokescreen called NWO (New World Order) that prevents us from seeing ourselves for what we are: the new slaves of the Empire, at the unconditional service of other Nero and Caligula  who are not mad, and for that very reason is more wicked than the former.