Novels by Nhelahsheere

Monday came faster than usual excluding the part where she was rolling on her bed thinking about how she was supposed to get $5000.Maybe Darian Blackwell had notuced her mood and decided not to pry, or something. Either ways, it was good for her."Dorothy Curien" he said. "You'll have lunch with her today." Isla only nodded and dropped the files she came with in his desk going back as she came in.By half past eleven, the elevator chimed. Dorothy Curien came in with bouquet making her way straight to Isla's office.She opens the door and Isla looked up from her laptop standing up when she saw her. She flashed her a smile."Ms. Curien, you're here early.""Ofcourse." She smiled as she handed over the bouquet to her giving her a hug."Didn't want him to keep you here without lunch." She added turning to the direction of his door at the other end of the floor."Thank you for the flowers, you didn't have to." Isla said looking at the flowers. They were white peonies. They looked really

She walked away like she had somewhere important to be.Darian knew better. He had watched the security guards appear behind her not five minutes ago, had seen the precise moment Isla decided that dignity was the only currency she had left in that situation and spent every last bit of it walking away straight-backed and unbothered.She had nowhere to be that much he knew, or he might have been wrong. But she walked as if she owned the destination.He watched her until the crowd took her. Until the city, indifferent and relentless, folded her into itself and she disappeared completely. Ryan was saying something beside her, gesturing with his hands the way he always did, and Isla wasn't responding. Just walking. Sunglasses on. Spine straight.Gone.Darian turned back.Victoria was already watching him.He said nothing. Simply adjusted the button on his jacket and gestured toward the restaurant entrance. She fell into step beside him without comment, heels precise against the pavement, h

Isla sat on the edge of her bed for a long moment before she picked up her phone.The apartment was quiet around her. Eliza had retreated back to the kitchen, tactful enough to give her space without being asked.She found her mother's contact and pressed call.It rang three times.Her mother picked up on the fourth."Isla."Just her name. That was all. But her mother's voice carried something in it that Isla recognized immediately. The sound of someone holding themselves together through sheer practice."Mum." Isla leaned forward slightly, elbow on her knee. "Eliza said you called. What happened?"A small exhale on the other end."I didn't want to worry you.""Mum.""I know, I know." A pause. "It's Tobi."Isla's chest tightened. "What about him? What's wrong with Tobi?""He came down with a fever three days ago. We have him antipyretics.""Mom..." Isla drawled. "You should have taken him to the hospital.""I know, I just thought it would pass on its own, you know how he is, he never

"We should go," Isla repeated."We should?" Ryan asked, blinking with feigned confusion Isla was already walking.Ryan scrambled to catch up, falling into step beside her with considerably less dignity than he would probably like to admit. For a moment he said nothing. Just kept pace with her, hands in his pockets, stealing glances at her profile every few seconds like she was a weather system he was trying to predict.Isla stared straight ahead her sunglasses firmly in place definitely not thinking about her boss and his girlfriend back there.She could feel his eyes on her."What?" she finally snapped, when she couldn't bear it a second longer."Nothing." Ryan looked forward immediately."That wasn't nothing. You were staring.""I wasn't staring.""Ryan.""I was glancing," he corrected seriously. "There's a difference."Isla exhaled through her nose and kept walking.The street was busy around them. People moving in every direction, bags swinging, conversations bleeding into each o

A chest. Very hard chest.Isla felt it beneath her palms before she even processed the fact that she had walked straight into an actual human being.Slowly, almost fearfully, she tilted her head upward.Blue eyes met hers instantly. Cold, sharp, and calm.And attached to those blue eyes was a lazy smirk she was struggling to get used to. Mr Blackwell never smiled.Isla’s soul briefly left her body."Mr. Blackwell…" she said weakly. "What are you doing here?"The smirk deepened.Darian Blackwell looked unfairly good standing in front of a luxury store like he personally owned half the city. Dark tailored suit. Expensive watch. Hands casually tucked into his pockets like he didn’t have a single problem in the world.Meanwhile, Isla had just been escorted out of a building ten seconds ago.His gaze slid past her shoulder.Directly toward the security guards still standing near the entrance.Isla felt heat rush into her face so quickly it was almost violent."Oh, that?" she said quickly,

The uneven sound of Isla's footsteps, distracted Ryan from changing the channels with the remote. "Can't you walk like a normal human being for once?" Ryan asked as he turned to see her entering the living room."If I could just find half a pair of my sneakers," She looked at him. "Then I'll be normal."Ryan looked at her—apart from the flowery gown and the handbag she carried, she seemed almost mad. One foot wore half a pair of sneakers, while the other was completely bare."You're going to be the death of me." He complained his gaze returning to the TV, where the news was playing.Isla rolled her eyes as ashe made her way to the TV completely blocking Ryan's view."What now?" Ryan frowned."I'm looking for my shoes remember??" She raised an eyebrow."What relationship does your shoe have..."Got it!!!" Isla exclaimed.Ryan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Common, let's go shall

The estate was silent, no staff visible, no cars except theirs, no witnesses.Just Damian.And whatever waited inside.Damian led him through a side entrance, down a stone corridor that felt older than time, and finally through a heavy wooden door.Into a room that made Leon's blood run cold.It was empty except for a single chair in the center, metal, bolted to the floor, and a table against the far wall holding things Leon recognized from his training days.Not torture implements.Worse.Persuasion tools.The kind designed to break will without leaving permanent marks."Sit," Damian said.Leon sat.Damian didn't restrain him.Didn't need to.They both knew Leon wasn't going to run.Damian circled slowly, hands clasped behind his back."I have questions," he said quietly.Leon looked up at him. "I'll tell you everything.""I know. But not because you want to. Because you need to."Damian stopped in front of him."You helped Maxwell Gluten die in Rowan's penthouse," he said. "Why?""S

Leon Martins had been running for six days. Six days of looking over his shoulder, jumping at shadows, barely sleeping. Six days of knowing that Damian Holt was hunting him.His phone was still in his pocket.Still powered on.Still trackable.He knew Damian Holt was hunting him.Knew Rowan wanted answers.Knew that every moment he stayed free was borrowed time.And he didn't care.Because Damian finding him, Rowan's executioner dragging him into whatever dark place they'd prepared, sounded like justice.Like the ending he deserved.He'd tied himself to Selene Vale thinking it was love.Thinking she was worth destroying himself for.But it wasn't love. It never had been.It was obsession. Delusion. Self-destruction disguised as devotion.And now he understood. He was tied to her forever. Not because of love. Not because of loyalty.But because of guilt. Because he'd helped her hurt people. Because he'd been complicit in her crimes.Because he'd chosen her over his conscience, his honor

Kenneth Dunlap arrived at Rowan Adair's office building with a dubious amount of confidence masked in a suit.He'd made the appointment through official channels, using a shell company name that wouldn't immediately trigger security alerts. Said he was a consultant with information regarding a "legal matter of significant personal interest to Mr. Adair."Vague enough to get through the gate.Specific enough to guarantee the meeting.Now he sat in a waiting room that probably cost more than most people's homes, Italian leather chairs, original artwork on the walls, a view of the city that made you feel like a god looking down on mortals.Kenneth adjusted his tie and waited.He was good at waiting.Patience, after all, was how you survived in his line of work.The receptionist, a severe-looking woman in her fifties with the kind of face that suggested she'd heard every lie ever told, glanced up from her computer."Mr. Adair will see you now," she said crisply. "Conference Room B. Down t

Rowan's phone buzzed against the marble countertop.Unknown Number: We need to talk. Tonight. I'm downstairs.He stared at the message for a long moment, jaw tightening.It was 11:43pm and the only one person would be bold enough or desperate enough to show up at his building unannounced at this hour.He typed back quickly.Rowan: Leave. Now.The response came immediately.Unknown: I'm pregnant, Rowan. And if you don't let me up in the next five minutes, I'm walking straight to the nearest news outlet.His blood ran cold.Pregnant.No.No.It was the effrontery for him. After he'd been drugged that night. Unconscious.He had been violated for God's sake without any explanation whatsoever. And she was her claiming she was pregnant, weeks later.Game well played.There was no pregnancy.There couldn't be.Unless—His stomach twisted violently.He dialed Damian immediately."Sir?" Damian's voice came through, alert despite the late hour. Always alert."Selene Vale is downstairs," Rowan s

The private lounge at the top of Adair Corporations was designed to intimidate.Floor-to-ceiling glass walls overlooked the city sprawling below like something conquered. Dark oak paneling absorbed sound, making every word feel weighted. Low lighting cast shadows that softened edges without offering warmth.Marcelline did not look at the view.She stood near the entrance instead, arms crossed loosely over her navy blazer, chin lifted just enough to signal she wouldn't be cowed by expensive architecture.Waiting.The door opened quietly.Rowan Adair walked in.He wore charcoal shirt—tailored perfectly, no tie, sleeves rolled once at the forearms in that deliberate way that suggested controlled casualty. Casual dominance.He stopped when he saw her, hand still resting on the door handle.For half a second, something flickered in his eyes.Not arrogance.Not mockery.Relief.

Selene watched Leon walk away, his silhouette disappearing into the shadows between the trees, and something inside her chest cracked.Not her heart.She wasn't sure she had one of those anymore.But something vital. Something that had been holding her together through weeks of chaos and fear and desperation."Leon, wait!" she called out, voice breaking.He didn't stop.Didn't even slow down.Just kept walking with that awful, measured pace, like he was already gone, already somewhere else entirely, already mourning the version of her he'd invented in his head.Selene ran after him, heels clicking frantically against the paved path."Leon, please!"He stopped finally.But he didn't turn around.Just stood there with his back to her, shoulders rigid, hands clenched at his sides.She caught up to him, breathing hard, words tumbling out in a desperate rush."It