Novels by Dera

CHAPTER 45Nancy stirred first. Not fully awake, just enough to feel the solid, comforting weight of something warm and steady beneath her. Her breath hitched, then stilled. She didn't open her eyes, not yet. She already knew. The warmth. The quiet. The unexpected, deep comfort.Andrew.Her fingers curled almost imperceptibly around his shirt, the fabric surprisingly soft under her touch. She hadn't meant to fall asleep like this, half-draped over him, her head resting against his chest, but somewhere in the night, it had stopped feeling temporary. It felt… right.Slowly, Nancy opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek. Then she heard it, his heartbeat. Slow. Even. Alive. A small knot of emotion tightened in her throat. She’d spent so much time watching him from a distance, monitoring symptoms, counting breaths, always making sure he was okay. But this closeness? It felt completely different. It wasn't clinical. It wasn't ca

CHAPTER 44Andrew didn't go to the office. That alone said more than he probably meant. He stood in his room, already dressed, watch strapped tight, everything meticulously in place, yet his feet refused to move toward the door. His reflection stared back, a perfect mask of control, sharp and completely unbothered. It was a lie, and he knew it. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly as he forced his gaze away.The conversation from earlier replayed, every biting word slicing through his thoughts. *You don’t get to push me away and then get jealous.* He let out a slow breath. She was right. That was the part that snagged, the part that felt fundamentally wrong. Not what she’d said, but the uncomfortable truth that it actually made sense. Andrew dragged a hand through his hair, pacing a short circuit across the room before abruptly stopping. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered, the words barely audible. And yet, he still hadn’t left. His feet finally moved, overriding his own interna

CHAPTER 43Andrew was already up. He hadn't slept worth a damn, though he’d never be the first to admit it. He stood by his window, one hand pressed lightly against the cool glass, the city a muted sprawl of sharp lines below. His reflection stared back, a mask of composure, of control. Perfect. Almost. A faint clench in his jaw betrayed him, just like the almost imperceptible tap of his fingers against the pane before they stilled.*Boss.*The word, unbidden, echoed in his mind. He let out a slow breath, pushing away from the window. “This is ridiculous,” he grumbled, reaching for his jacket. And yet, the word lingered.***Nancy walked into the kitchen as the morning sun finally decided to properly grace the room. A faint, comforting scent of coffee hung in the air—fresh, warm, blessedly normal. She paused when she saw Andrew, his back to her, standing by the counter, his posture rigid, distant.“Morning,” she offered.He didn’t turn right away. “Morning.” There was something about

CHAPTER 42The night air followed them inside, a faint coolness clinging to their clothes and skin, carrying the quiet scent of water and something else, something unspoken that neither of them had yet put a name to. Nancy walked a step ahead as they left the pool area, her arms folded loosely across her chest, her pace unhurried but with a definite purpose. Behind her, Andrew walked, his expression outwardly calm, but his mind… well, it was anything but.Kendrick.The name had lodged itself somewhere deep and uncomfortable, refusing to budge. He didn't like it. Not one bit. He didn't like how easily it had slipped into their conversation, or how her voice had softened when she spoke of him. He hated the thought of a whole segment of her life—memories, laughter, shared history—that he had no part in. And, more than anything, he really, *really* didn't like the way it made him feel.They reached the hallway. Nancy slowed just a fraction, glancing back. "I'll… go shower," she said.Andr

CHAPTER 41The last remnants of sweetness lingered in the air long after the dessert plates were cleared away. Nancy leaned back, her fingertips gently tracing an invisible path on the polished wood table. The rich, comforting taste of cocoa and cream still coated her tongue, a stark contrast to the knot of tension that had marked the start of her day.Across from her, Andrew had already set his napkin aside. He hadn't touched his dessert. Not a single bite. Nancy noticed, of course, but this time, she kept her thoughts to herself. Instead, she watched him, marveling at his composure—how completely unaffected he seemed by everything surrounding them. It was almost believable. Almost.He then stood, adjusting a sleeve with a small, deliberate movement. “I’ll be outside,” he said, his voice even.Nancy looked up. “Outside?”“By the pool.”A beat of silence.“Try not to eat everything,” he added, a dry edge to his tone.Nancy rolled her eyes, a faint smile playing on her lips. “No promis

CHAPTER 40Nancy barely waited for the car to fully stop before yanking the door open. She practically tumbled out, a sharp, controlled movement that screamed she was holding herself back by sheer force of will.“Ma..,” the driver started, but Nancy cut him off, already on the move.“I’ve got it,” she said, her voice tight. Her platform shoes clicked a quick rhythm against the pavement as she strode toward the entrance, her grip white-knuckled on her bag, her shoulders set like stone. She didn’t look back. Not even once.Behind her, Andrew lingered in the car for a beat longer than necessary. Just watching. His jaw clenched for a second before he finally emerged, straightening his jacket as if nothing significant had just transpired. The driver quietly closed the door behind him.Inside, the penthouse was a sanctuary of calm. Cool air, polished silence, everything impeccably in its place.“Welcome back, sir,” James greeted, stepping forward. His voice was steady, but his eyes flickere

CHAPTER 10–The UncleElena felt delighted after reading the letter she got from her brother. It felt like all the burden in her mind had been lifted from her.She walked back to her room with lots of joy, joy she herself couldn't explain where it was coming from.She entered her room and threw herself on the bed, her weight sinking into the mattress.I would ask for his permission to visit them someday, she thought. I hope he allows it.She stood up and walked slowly toward the balcony. The fresh air of the night hit her in the face. She spent a few minutes on the balcony before she retired to bed.The sounds of the early morning birds chirping woke her up.She did her morning routine and got dressed to have breakfast."Good morning," she greeted Martha, who was up already, with some of the maids assisting in the kitchen."Good morning, Miss Marcelo. I see you're up early," Martha said, flipping the pancakes over the stove."Yeah. Ohhh, you're making pancakes, my favorite," Elena said

CHAPTER 9Elena walked right into her room, slamming the door hard. "Gosh, I hate that guy. How dare he point a gun at my face? If we were out of this place, I would have reported him to the police. Does he really think I want to be here? If not for my bad habit of always being curious about things, I wouldn't have landed here in the first place. Keeping me locked up like a prisoner." She lamented to herself as she adjusted her weight on the cushion.The room was so silent, she didn't know when she dozed off in the position she was in.The door to the room opened around evening time, jolting her awake from her sleep. Elena expected Mrs. Martha, but it was Marco. He filled the doorway with his shadow."The boss wants you in the dining room," he said."I am not interested," Elena replied, not standing up from where she was seated."I don't care, so will you stand up now and come with me," he said, looking at her like he wanted to make a hole in her body."Fine, whatever. I'm going not

Chapter 8A new voice cut through the tension from the open doorway. It was Martha.The man, Marco, didn't turn to look at her. His eyes remained locked on Elena's face, drifting down her neck to trace the low cut of the wine-colored dress, which suddenly felt like absolutely no protection at all."Mr. Adrian's orders regarding her were very clear," Martha stated firmly."Orders," Marco muttered, the word clearly tasting bitter in his mouth. "The boss always did have a ridiculous soft spot for strays.""Those are Mr. Adrian's direct orders," Martha repeated, her voice dropping into a register that actually made Marco's smirk flicker. "You touch a single hair on her head, and you will have to answer directly to him. Not to me. To him."For a long, agonizing moment, nobody in the room moved. Then, finally, Marco took a step back. The handgun vanished back into his jacket with a movement so practiced and fluid that Elena barely even tracked it. He gave her one final, lingering look,

CHAPTER SEVEN: THE SURVEILLANCE"You're not wearing that."Elena paused, looking down at her black pants and the crisp white blouse. It was essentially the uniform of a prisoner trying her best to pass as a secretary. Then she looked up at Martha. The older woman stood framed in the closet doorway, holding a silk dress the exact color of bruised wine and heavy smoke."Mr. Adrian left very specific instructions," Martha said. There was something subtle in her tone that made Elena’s spine straighten instantly. It wasn't a direct command. It felt more like a quiet warning. "Breakfast is at eight o'clock sharp, and he expects you to look presentable.""He left?""This morning. Business in the city." Martha stepped into the room and laid the dress across the mattress. The fabric was pure silk, sleeveless, with a neckline that dipped a bit lower than anything Elena had worn since she was twenty and still stupid enough to believe the world played fair. "He will return tomorrow afternoon. Ton

CHAPTER SIXTHE RULESA knock came at 7:30. Sharp. Three raps. Elena flinched, her whole body jerking like she'd been shocked."Miss." Martha's voice through the wood. Dry, efficient, no warmth. "Breakfast in thirty minutes. Dress in the closet. Be presentable."Elena didn't answer. She listened to footsteps fade down the hallway, then waited another ten minutes before she moved. Her legs were stiff, her back ached, her eyes burned from staring at nothing all night. She walked to the closet like a woman twice her age.The clothes were there. Simple things. Black pants, white blouses, no dresses. Nothing that looked like what she'd worn to the auction. She was dressed in black pants and a white blouse. Brushed her teeth with the toothbrush Martha had left. She looked in the mirror and saw a stranger. Pale, hollow-eyed, hair tangled from a night of silent shaking. She tried to smooth it, gave up, pulled it back with an elastic band she found in the drawer.The hallway was different in

CHAPTER 5— Present time The car came to a halt in front of a large mansion. The driver got out and rushed to open the Adrian side of the door.Adrian got out without looking at her. She didn't need the invitation to know what to do. Elena opened her own door; she stood on the gravelly ground.The sight of a very magnificent house welcomed my view. She stood in awe, mesmerized by the sight of how beautiful the house was.“Are you going to come in or do you want them to get you a bed, so that you'll be comfortable looking at the house well,” Adrian suggested.“Hmmm.” Elena jolted to reality. They strode into the house.“Welcome boss.” A tall man, with tattoos covering his whole hand.“Thank you Henry, Martha, attend to this young lady, show her to the guest room, and by tomorrow morning I want the third room in the east wing cleared then move her there by morning..” He gave out the orders to Martha.A woman appeared. Older, gray hair pulled tight. She looked at Ele