Novels by Twwoossie

The Weight of the Crown ​Jennifer’s POV ​The luncheon was held in a massive, open...air pavillion...a traditional Javanese pavilion supported by towering, intricately carved teak pillars that had probably stood for centuries and centuries. The roof vaulted high into the humid air, but underneath, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of roasted spices, expensive tobacco, and old, immovable power. ​Setyo Triatmodjo sat at the head of a long, solid mahogany table that could easily seat thirty people. He was a frail-looking man in his early eighties draped in a flawlessly tailored silk shirt, but his eyes were sharp as flint. Surrounding him were six of his top board executives—all older men, all holding themselves with the rigid, unyielding posture of traditionalists who viewed the corporate world as a blood sport. ​Lucas sat to Setyo’s right, and I was placed directly next to Lucas. The weight of his hand had left my lower back the moment we sat...but the ghost of that heat

The Poisoned Feast ​Jennifer’s POV ​The morning brought no relief, only a shift in the temperature and a fresh layer of dread. By noon, the villa was crawling with a different kind of presence. Men in dark, tailored lightweight suit...looking entirely out of place against the lush tropical backdrop...were inspecting the perimeters with earpieces firmly in place. ​Lucas had been gone since dawn, leaving me alone with Elena, who had silently presented me with a selection of dresses chosen specifically for the afternoon's luncheon at the Triatmodjo estate. Every single one of them was striking, expensive, and completely dictated by Lucas’s taste. ​I chose a dark emerald silk midi dress with a high neckline...a color that felt like armor, matching the jungle but completely shielding my body from view. If I was going to be paraded around as his trophy or his strategic anchor, I wasn't going to make it easy for anyone to look at me. ​When I walked down to the courtyard wher

The Architecture of Hate​Jennifer’s POV​The master suite wasn't a room...it was an open-air stage designed to break whatever resolve I had left. Three sides of the pavilion were entirely open to the elements, separated from the vertical drop of the cliffside by nothing but a low stone ledge and sheer, white silk curtains that billowed like ghosts in the night breeze. In the center of the dark timber floor sat a massive bed, draped in heavy netting, looking like a monument to my own captivity.​I stood by the edge of the stone terrace, my arms crossed tightly over my chest, shivering despite the oppressive heat. Every muscle in my body was locked tight. The skin on my wrist still burned where Lucas had pinned me to the desk, a physical reminder of just how easily he could dismantle my defenses when he chose to.​He knew about the phone.Fuckkkkk. The realization made my stomach churn with a sickening bl

The Emerald Trap Part 2Lucas’s POV​She was fighting again.​I stood by the carved wooden pillars of the main pavilion, watching her silhouette against the darkening jungle sky. The white linen dress she wore caught the rising mountain breeze, billowing around her legs as she stared down into the gorge. For the last three days, she had been a ghost quiet, carrying the crushing weight of the London boardroom defeat . It had irritated me to the point of distraction. I didn't want a broken, compliant doll pacing the rooms of my house.... I wanted the sharp, venomous woman who looked at me like she wanted to burn my entire empire to the ground. And I would let her.​Seeing the fire spark back into her eyes out there on the terrace brought a dark, familiar thrill back into my chest and not to mention blood started to rush into some places. The Indonesian heat was melting away her rigid defense mechanis

The Emerald Trap​Jennifer’s POV​The heat didn't just meet us when the cabin doors opened....it swallowed us whole. It was a thick, heavy, living thing that instantly clung to my skin. After the sterile, air-conditioned silent hell of that private flight,the tropical humidity felt like a physical slap to the face.​I kept my sunglasses on as we walked down the steps onto the tarmac, the glare of the Indonesian sun bouncing viciously off the concrete. Lucas walked half a step ahead of me, his stride effortless, as if the suffocating climate was something he had personally commissioned for the trip. He hadn't spoken more than ten words to me since we boarded the jet and frankly, the silence had been the only mercy I’d been granted.​The drive into the mountains of Ubud was a blur of chaotic sensory overload. For hours, the private SUV twisted through narrow, winding roads choked with scooters, past vibrant stone shrines wrapped in checkered cloths, and deeper into a towering green

The Hollow Victory Lucas’s POV The silence in the mansion was no longer a sign of my control it had become a persistent, irritating hum in my ears. I sat in my study, the mahogany desk covered in global expansion maps, but my eyes hadn't moved from a single paragraph in an hour. I sighed. My focus was upstairs. Specifically, on a specific someone who hadn't made a sound in days. I had wanted her compliance, but I hadn't expected the ghost that took its place. Jennifer didn’t fight me anymore. She didn't snap at the maids. She didn't even look at me with that sharp, venomous wit that used to make my blood boil and my pulse race. Now ... when I walked into her room, she just existed. It was maddening not to mention stressful. What was supposed to be my win slowly turning into a loss fast. I stood up and walked to the window, watching the rain streak the glass. I wouldn't admit it...not to my father, not to the board, and certainly not to myself.....but the "Co