Novels by Miss_eze

Lucien’s Pov Nobody speaks. As he car glide through the street of Manhattan, the silence grows heavier with every block. Across from me, Alora keeps her eyes fixed outside. She'll look at anything except the people in this car. She'd stare at buildings, traffic, and pedestrians we've already driven past. She smooths invisible wrinkles from her dress, adjusts the clasp on her purse, and then starts picking at a fingernail. Anything to avoid looking at me. Leyla's scrolls through her phone with intense concentration like we're not in the car. Marcel is the only one who can't tolerate the silence. He looks from one face to another before clearing his throat. "So..." Nothing. Not a single person acknowledges him. He laughs awkwardly. "I know it isn't official yet, but..." Another pause. Then, he looks directly at Alora. "Congratulations on your engagement, Alora." I instantly hear Alora's stomach grumble, her shoulders stiffen. She's tensed. He looks between m

Alora's Pov Tonight is the almighty gala, and Leyla hasn't been home since our blowout yesterday. Her room is exactly how she left it; a hurricane of glitter, makeup, shoes, and clothes scattered everywhere. The only thing missing is her overnight bag. Her phone still goes straight to voicemail. I’ve called. I've texted. Nothing. With a sigh, I toss my phone onto my bed and turn toward the mirror, smoothing down the midnight-blue gown Lucien had sent earlier this afternoon. It's beautiful, stunning even. The silk drapes over my figure perfectly, like it was actually made just for me (Won't be surprised though, Lucien does the most 'out of mind' things for impression). It's easily the most expensive thing I've ever worn. But every time I look at myself, I don't see luxury. I see another chain. Lucien's words in the hospital hallway echo in my head. "Think carefully, Alora... and make up your mind." Damn him. Even though he didn't spell it out, we all know the s

Leyla's Pov~Continued...I can't face her so it's easier staring at the blanket. She touches my chin softly, lifting my head. "Hey, look at me," she pleads.When I do, she gives me a small nod. "Talk to me, babes."I swallow, long and hard. "Mr. Vance... he tried..."I see it immediately as she closes her eyes tightly and exhales deeply. She knew. Always knew what kind of man her boss is. "He sexually assaulted me," I blurt out, the words burning my lips. "Out of anger, I might have said something that made him realise that it wasn't you all along. I know I messed up the swap, I just couldn't help it. And that's when he tried to force his way through, saying he could sue us both for criminal impersonation.""What did you do?" Her expression hardens into something scary, she looks ready to kill."I might have hit him with a vase," I mutter my voice trembling. "But that's not the scary part, Alora. Even after he passed out... I kept hitting him. Over and over again. I couldn't stop.

Leyla's Pov The worst part is the waiting. Not for George's trial or the cops. I'm waiting to find out if I ruined all of our lives in 10 seconds flat. I sit alone in the hospital room, staring at the clock mounted above the television. 1:18PM. The seconds tick by, and my stomach twists with every single beat. A nurse walks past the open door, glancing inside for a brief second. I immediately looked away, fixing my eyes on the floor. The police had already taken my statement. Twice even. The paramedics had asked their questions three different times. Yet, every single time footsteps approach the room, my pulse jumps into my throat. I stand and close the door. Then, my gaze drifts down to my hands. They're clean now, but if I close my eye I can still feel the weight of the vase. My phone vibrates. It's Alora, again. I just stare at her name until the screen starts to dim. A few hours ago, she had called me, sounding breathless and relieved, to tell me George was coming home

Alora's Pov George looks thinner as the orange jail uniform hangs off him, and the dark circles under his eyes make him look like he hasn't slept in weeks. How can anyone though? My stomach twists. Five days. That's all it took. Five days behind bars, and my little brother already looks like someone I barely recognize. I clasp my hands together under the table to stop them from shaking as our lawyer flips through his notes. Across the room, the prosecutor stands. The judge adjusts her glasses and glances down at the papers in front of her. The entire courtroom falls silent as we wait for the sentence. I stop breathing. PLEASE LORD... JUST THIS ONCE. The judge closes the file. "Having reviewed the evidence before this court, I find that the prosecution has failed to establish sufficient grounds to proceed." Nobody moves or even blinks. She continues. "Therefore, all charges against George Blackwood are dismissed effective immediately." For a second, I genuinely think I

Alora's PovSleep refuses to come.I stare at the ceiling until the shadows start looking like faces. Then, I check my phone.10:17 PM.I groan. Leyla still isn't home, probably because of our riff earlier on or work. Either way, I just know it's going to be a long night. I throw the blanket aside and sit up.The apartment is quiet except for the hum of the refrigerator and the occasional rush of traffic outside.Usually, I'd write. Writing always helps.I grab my laptop on the nightstand and open my manuscript.Read the same sentence once, twice. Six times.Nothing.The cursor blinks, waiting in mockery. After ten minutes, I've written exactly four words and deleted all four."Ughhhhh! Forget it," I slam the laptop shut.The problem is'nt writer's block, It's Lucien. Every time I close my eyes, I see him. His office, that contract.I grab a pillow and throw it across the room. It hits the wall, and I feel exactly zero percent better.Maybe fresh air will help. Or caffeine, or even

Marcel’s PovHer eyes don’t leave mine. “Say it again,” she whispers, her voice unsteady.“Don’t test me, Leyla," I swallow the irritation rising in my chest. She knows exactly what she's doing, and I hate how much it's working.A slow smile pulls at her lips, but it doesn’t reach her cold, searching eyes which are looking for a flicker of devotion in me, I guess. “Then make me.”Something snaps in me as I rush towards her, grabbing her waist. She shoves me off as I'm about to kiss her, in an assertive kind of way to. Plays with the hem of her top, while hesitating for a bit as if debating weather to do this or not. Then, she pulls it off slowly and drops it next to the couch. She's wearing a deep purple lace bra that makes her skin look like milk. Before I can even process the sight, she reaches back, unhooks the lace and lets it fall beside her discarded shirt. My breathe hitches. Dauuummmm!!Her breasts are not as large as Alora’s but definitely something. Her nipples which are a

Leyla’s PovThe restaurant door swings shut behind me, the chime of the bell sounding like it's tolling for her. Alora thinks she’s actually done something. She thinks that Pinterest-aesthetic white linen dress and that massive, overcompensated rock on her finger make her the main character.Delusional. She’s just a shiny new toy in a gilded cage, and she’s in for a literal nightmare.My phone buzzes on the table, my Uber's here. I stomp off, the pavement shaking under my heels like it understands I’m not in the mood for grace. This outfit? Big mistake. I need to be in leather. Where's the smoke too? Jezzzzz! And a boot girll.I dial his number, straight to voicemail. As usual."GET YOUR PHONE OFF DND, YOU ACTUAL PSYCHO!" I scream into the empty air, my thumbs flying across the screen.I fire off a text: I’m coming over. Don't be "busy."He doesn’t reply, never does. But I know him and his kind of places. Places where he goes when he wants to disappear without actually leaving.High p

Alora’s PovThe city blurs past the car window in a smear of neon and steel, but all I still see is Leyla’s smug. LUCIEN TOOK ME TO SEE HIM. The words settle in slowly. Leyla has always been the perfect twin, known how to make things work for her. She moves with so much ease, one would think the world adjusts itself around her. I’ve never had that. I just take the heat and keep going. If I don't get smart, I already knows how this ends. I’m going to end up as nothing more than a pretty piece of furniture in Lucien’s penthouse with no value."Change of plans," I say, breaking the low hum of the car. “Take me to his office.”The driver’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, hesitant. "Sorry, ma’am. Boss ordered I take you home straight after brunch. No detours.""I didn't ask for his itinerary," I cut him off, my voice ice-flat, the chill in it surprises even me. "I gave you a direction. Turn the car around, or I’ll make sure the next job you’re looking for isn't in this city."He k

Leyla’s PovThe morning light in my apartment is a lot, exposing every loose thread in the rug and the fatigue etched in my face. I’m standing in front of my mirror, wrestling with a sundress over my head. A soft, breathable chiffon with daisies on a pale yellow background. It feels like a sharp contrast to the reality of a woman who has spent the last three nights grinding for tips under neon lights. Alora hit me up last night, talking about brunch. Said we needed to talk. Her treat.I mean… obviously. Was I meant to pay? You’re rich now, babe. Duhhh.My phone's blowing up on the dressing table just as I’m over here struggling with a stubborn knot in my hair, my fingers already loosing the battle. I peep at the screen and the name pulls a real smile out of me. The 'Oh, it's you' smile.“I know you couldn't get enough of me,” I say, slipping the phone between my shoulder and ear while I hunt for a hair tie. “You were blowing up my phone last night, boyyy. You know that’s when I work.

Lucien’s Pov The penthouse hits me with saffron and a cold silence. I toss my keys onto the console, the clock echoing through the empty foyer. My head is pounding; a relic of a twelve-hour day spent in boardrooms. I don't want to fight. I just want a drink, a hot shower, and a blackout curtain over the world. But my fiancée is waiting. Of course she is. Alora is in the kitchen, leaning against the kitchen counter with a glass of red wine on one hand and her phone in the other. She's dressed in a black sheer, floor-length silk robe. Her hair is rolled up in a bun, exposing that beautiful neck line. The fabric flows around her as she moves, hinting at the shape beneath, held together by a single ribbon at her waist. The table is set, suggesting an unexpected welcome. "You're late. Long day?” she asks, lifting her eyes from her phone to me. I chuckle dryly, massaging my temple. "Try 12 hours of being competent while everyone waits for you to mess up." She gives me a thumbs

Alora's PovThe car door opens with a soft, reluctant sigh. I step out, my coat brushing the seat before I tug it back into place. Sunlight spills into the cafe like a soft filter, all warm and sharp. Dust motes radiates in its beam, like they're suddenly alive. It hits my skin and it's like my chest is lowkey screaming, like it might shatter or dissolve. I scan the cafe.There he is. My hands start to shake. I feel like I'm on the run or something, even though Lucien's security detail is parked in the black SUV across the street, eyes on us like they're glued there. I walk over and slide into the booth across from him, the red vinyl sticking to my skin."Always stunning," he says, his eyes tracing the hollow of my throat down to my boobs. "Took you long enough.""We're here to talk," I whisper, the words tumbling out of me. "Lucien. What..."Marcel doesn't let me finish. He leans in, the scent of his perfume all over us. Instead of taking my hand, he lifts his index finger and pres