Novels by Charlotte A. Monroe

Three weeks after the funeral, Layla's life had settled into a rhythm that left almost no room for grief, which she suspected was the entire point of staying this busy.Mornings belonged to Mrs. Chen's twins, two eleven-year-olds who needed help with math homework before school and paid better than Layla had expected for the privilege. Afternoons belonged to the accounting firm downtown, three days a week, part-time work that kept her skills sharp even as it paid barely enough to matter. Evenings, when she had the energy left for them, belonged to a second tutoring client near Grand Regent Hotel, a task that required crossing half the city on the subway after a full day already behind her.She was crossing that half of the city now, moving fast down a crowded sidewalk near the hotel's entrance, her bag heavy with textbooks she hadn't had time to return to the library.She almost missed the commotion entirely.A small crowd had gathered near the hotel's grand entrance, the kind of crow

Michael Ross's office occupied the fourteenth floor of a building three blocks from Harrington Group's own headquarters, close enough to walk, far enough to matter. Michael had told Ethan once, years ago, that keeping his firm independent of the company's building was deliberate. *A man needs somewhere neutral to deliver bad news,* he'd said. Ethan understood the wisdom of that now more than he ever had before.Michael was waiting when Ethan arrived, a folder already open on the desk between them, his tie slightly loosened in a way that told Ethan he'd been in the office since before the sun came up."Sit," Michael said. "Please."Ethan sat."I want to say, before anything else, that your grandfather loved you very much." Michael folded his hands atop the folder. "I need you to hold onto that, because what I'm about to tell you may not feel like love at first. It may feel like something closer to a trap.""Michael.""There is a condition attached to the transfer of controlling shares.

The flight from London had taken seven hours, and Ethan Harrington had spent every one of them working. Contracts. Term sheets. A due diligence report his team had chased for four months. By the time the car pulled up outside Harrington Group's Manhattan headquarters, the deal was finally signed, and he hadn't slept more than a handful of hours in three days.He didn't feel it. He never let himself feel it, not during business hours.Daniel Brooks was waiting for him in the lobby, two coffees in hand, one of which he passed over without being asked."You look like hell," Daniel said."Good morning to you too.""I'm serious. When's the last time you slept in an actual bed?""Define recently." Ethan took the coffee and started toward the elevators, Daniel falling into step beside him the way he had for the past twelve years, ever since business school, ever since the two of them had built half of Harrington Group's current strategy over late nights and cheap takeout."The London deal cl

Meridian Collections called back at eight in the morning, before Layla had even finished her coffee."Ms. Bennett, I need to inform you that the account is still active regardless of your father's passing," the woman on the line said, her tone pleasant in a way that made the words worse. "As the estate's representative, you may be responsible for resolving the balance.""I don't even know what the balance is. I just found these letters last night.""I can email you a summary. But I'd strongly recommend speaking with an attorney before you do anything else."Layla thanked her, hung up, and sat at the kitchen table with her hands wrapped around a mug that had long since gone cold. Sarah was still asleep upstairs. Noah had left early to walk to school, quieter than usual, the weight of last night sitting on him in a way Layla hated to see on a fourteen-year-old.She needed a lawyer. Her father's lawyer, if he'd had one, though nothing in the drawer had named one directly. She thought of

The machine beside her father's bed beeped in a slow, steady rhythm. Layla had memorized that sound over the past week. She could hear it in her sleep now.A nurse slipped in to check his vitals, jotted something on a clipboard, and gave Layla a small, tired smile on her way out. It was the kind of smile that didn't promise anything. Layla had learned to stop looking for promises in it."You should go home," her father said. His voice had gone thin, but there was still warmth in it."I'm fine, Baba.""You have been here every night.""Where else would I be?"He tried to smile, and it cost him something. She saw it in the way his breath caught. "Sleeping in your own bed. Taking care of your sister and brother.""Mrs. Alvarez is watching them. They're fine.""Layla." He said her name the way he always did when he wanted her full attention. "You cannot carry everyone forever."She didn't answer that. She reached for the paper cup on his tray table instead and helped him take a sip of wat