Novels by Lexie

MarcelloAn hour after Sienna left the office, I was still sitting behind my desk, trying my best to stay focused on the paperwork stacked in front of me. The dark-covered contract she had signed sat to the side, a completed transaction, but the stack of supply manifests and reports demanding my signature remained untouched. I stared at the lines of text printed on the page, the ink crisp and clear under the desk lamp, but none of it was registering. No matter how hard I tried to force my brain to process the logistics, I couldn't shake her out of my thoughts. She was consuming my head, her presence lingering in the quiet room like a thick fog that wouldn't lift.I shifted in my leather chair, the friction of my tailored trousers against the seat sounding loud in the silence. I flipped the document, trying to read to the next page, hoping a new set of figures would finally ground me.The safe house was quiet, the thick walls built to isolate the outside world, yet the silence insid

SiennaRoxy sat at the edge of the bed, the box of tissues gripped tightly in her hand as she waited patiently for me to stop sniffing. The silence in the room was thick, broken only by the ragged sounds of my breathing and the occasional wet gasp as I fought to keep the tears from spilling over again. My throat felt like it was coated in sand, the phantom weight of Marcello’s hand still burning against my jawline, making my skin flush with a humiliating, lingering heat.When the crying finally subsided into a dull ache in my chest, I wiped the back of my hand across my nose, my shoulders dropping as exhaustion took over.Roxy shifted on the mattress, the springs groaning softly under her weight as she pushed me for answers. The patience in her face was fading, replaced by the need to know what had happened behind those closed office doors."Sienna, come on," she whispered, her fingers digging into the tissue box. "Look at me. You're shaking. What did he say to you?"My mouth opened

SiennaMarcello’s hand under my chin for another heartbeat. Then his gaze began to travel, dark eyes sliding down the line of my throat, over the thin cotton stretched across my chest, and lower still until they settled squarely between my thighs. He stared shamelessly at the wet patch darkening the fabric, a slow, wicked smile curved his mouth. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. The gleam in his eyes said he could smell my surrender and was savoring every second of it.Only when he had his fill did his fingers finally release my jaw. The absence of his touch left me reeling, as if the floor had vanished beneath me.My head was spun so violently that the expensive decorations lining the office walls seemed to blur into long, dark shadows. The metallic scent of blood and the heavy, intoxicating pull of his cedarwood cologne still coated the back of my throat, making it difficult to breathe. Every single pulse point in my body was throbbing, a chaotic rhythm that made my skin feel

SiennaI stood there looking completely dumbfounded at him. My lips parted, but for a second, no sound came out. My brain flatlined. The words he had just spoken hung in the cool air of the office, turning into something thick and suffocating. The walls of the massive room felt like they were actively closing in on me, shrinking the space until I was pinned against the floorboards under the unyielding weight of his shadow."You're joking, right?" My voice sounded thin, hollow, and utterly desperate in the quiet room. I forced a weak, breathy laugh, my eyes scanning every inch of his face, searching for any crack in the armor, any twitch of his jaw, any sign that this was a sick, twisted game meant to scare me into compliance. "You've got to be joking."I waited for one of his rare smiles; that brief, mocking tilt of his lips that usually signaled he was messing with my head. I desperately needed him to laugh, to tell me I was an idiot for believing him. But nothing changed. The ar

MarcelloSienna’s eyes snapped toward the heavy door behind her once more.Her shoulders went rigid under her top. Her chin dropped just a fraction. A physical acknowledgment of the reality she was trapped in. Then she seemed to remember the heavy mechanical snap from a few minutes ago. The sound of the deadbolt sliding home when my hand went under the desk.There was no way out. No back exit. No Roxy to hide behind. Just the two of us in a sealed room.She turned her head back to face me. Her chest heaved. The movement was fast and erratic, a frantic rhythm against her collarbones. I stood still, watching the pulse point in her throat throb against her skin. She closed her eyes. She squeezed them shut, holding them like that for three long beats. She was fighting herself. Forcing the hysteria back down into her stomach before it choked her.When she finally opened her eyes, the wild panic was gone. Not completely. But it had hardened into something else. Defiance. Her hands dug i

MarcelloI watched with deep satisfaction as the realization hit her like a physical punch straight to the gut. The sudden change in her posture was instantaneous, her whole body freezing as the weight of my words anchored her to the floorboards. I kept my gaze locked onto her face, watching closely with a dark sense of amusement as her eyes widened to the size of saucers, her pupils dilating in shock. It was a beautiful sight. Her brain was working at a sprint, connecting the dots bit by bit, piecing together every event that had happened since we met. The shattered glass from the alleyway, the silent, armed men guarding the doors, the casual talk of execution in my office, and the size of this safe house. The confusion was fading, replaced by a cold terror that made her skin go pale under the dim light.My eyes moved slowly along the contours of her face with so much intensity it felt like a physical touch. I tracked the curve of her jaw, the slight tremble in her bottom lip, a