Novels by Vida Lora

The private jet touched down with a soft jolt.Lia startled awake. Nora squeezed her hand, whispering, “We’re here,”Outside the window, runway lights glowed in rows, stretching into darkness. Not a commercial airport. Bigger. Cleaner. Too private and silent.It was Lorenzo’s.Of course, it was.Lorenzo stood first. His movements were smooth, precise, like every step he took had already been planned months ago.“Get up,” he said.Calm voice.Too calm.Nora unbuckled herself and helped Lia with hers. Lia’s small fingers trembled. Nora kissed her forehead. “Stay close to me, okay?”The jet door opened with a hiss.Nora flinched. The air felt like a physical reminder, a toxic perfume of her past life.Cold night air swept in, carrying the faint scent of fuel and ocean water. They stepped onto the metal stairs, and the moment Nora’s foot touched the ground, she felt it—Something was wrong.Armed men lined the tarmac. Black suits. Earpieces. Blank expressions. They stood in two perfect li

The sky looked endless from thirty thousand feet up.Nora sat stiff in the soft cream leather seat. Her fingers gripped the armrest tight. The jet was all about Lorenzo, sleek and cold, with black marble touches and gold parts. The air smelled like whiskey and trouble.Next to her, Lia curled up under a blanket. Her little face pressed against the window. She was only twelve, too young for this fear, too young to get the danger hiding in all this fancy stuff.Nora brushed hair from her sister's face. "Are you okay?" she whispered.Lia nodded, but it was weak. "I just don't like him watching us," she said softly.Nora looked across the cabin. Lorenzo sat a few seats away. He looked relaxed, but you couldn't read him. His eyes were half-closed, like he owned the whole world already. He didn't say a word, but Nora felt his stare like a hand on her neck.It made sense they flew on his private jet. Lorenzo could buy ten of them easy. He was the second-richest man in the world, super rich,

By the time she turned back, Lorenzo was climbing the stairs. He didn’t look at her so she quietly followed behind.At the end of the hall, he opened a carved wooden door and stepped aside, waiting. His voice was low, almost lazy. “Our room.”Nora froze. Our room? The words sank like ice.Lorenzo stood by the open door, casual in the way a lion yawns before it pounces. “I didn’t stutter,” he added, glancing over his shoulder.Nora’s spine straightened. “We’re not married.”He tilted his head. “The priest might disagree.”Her jaw clenched.She stepped inside anyway, slow and cautious, like the floor might swallow her.The room was nothing like she expected. Warm. Dim lighting, soft leather, rich wood. A fireplace crackled low, and wide windows offered a view of the city that felt worlds away.It was a trap. A beautiful one.She stood stiffly in the center, arms crossed.Lorenzo closed the door, locking it with a click that echoed too loud. He walked past her, unbuttoning his jacket and

Derrick stood frozen, hands up, fear clear on his face. His eyes begged Nora for answers , but he could only see fear in her eyes, she couldn’t look at him. Not with Lorenzo moving behind her like a dark shadow.Lorenzo put the pistol away, like slipping a pen in his pocket. He grabbed Derrick’s shoulder and pushed him aside roughly. The crowd gasped. Whispers spread like snakes. The priest stood still, eyes wide, sweat on his face. He held his Bible like a weak shield.Lorenzo moved to Nora’s side at the altar. He owned the spot like it was always his. He lifted her veil gently, but his eyes were stormy. “Wasting this pretty face on him?” he said softly, his smirk cutting sharp.Nora’s lips shook. Words stuck in her throat. Her body felt numb, trapped by his stare, strong and claiming, but something felt wrong, like his smell was off in the fear.He turned to the priest, voice cold and clear like breaking ice. “Do your job.”The priest stuttered, “I—I can’t—”“Want to see your wife t

Soft piano notes floated through the cathedral, delicate as a fading dream. Guests turned, phones raised, their gasps filling the hall.At the aisle's end stood Nora Davis, radiant in white, rose petals cascading down her gown. Her smile trembled, her heart hammering like a warm drum. This was her day. Her escape and her second chance.Yet a knot of unease twisted in her gut, sharp and relentless. She gripped Lia's hand, her twelve-year-old sister firmly."You’ve got this," Lia whispered, eyes glowing with pride.Nora blinked back tears. She wasn't supposed to be here, not after the stage, the stares, the nights as Cherry. Not even after killing him. But Derrick waited at the altar, his smile warm and steady.Her clean slate. Her new beginning.Today marked the beginning of a new chapter.Each step down the aisle felt like a vow. I'm not that girl anymore, she said inwardly.Aria, her best friend, called out from the pews, "You’re stunning, girl!" Nora’s cheeks warmed, a soft laugh e