Novels by Swift Pen

~Liliana~Six Months Later.The private villa on the Amalfi Coast feels like another world. Terracotta tiles warm under our bare feet, the distant sound of waves crashing against the cliffs below, and the scent of lemon trees drifting through the open windows. We have escaped here for a week after Rowan finally hands over day-to-day control of several projects to his executives. No press. No custody battles. No pretending.Just us.Rebecca is back home with her grandparents for a short visit, safe and happy. Her laughter still echoes in my ears from our video call earlier. The custody war is truly over. Silvia has stopped fighting months ago, her threats dissolving once the world sees how stable and loved Rebecca is in our home.I stand on the wide balcony in nothing but one of Rowan’s white linen shirts. The fabric brushes my thighs as the evening breeze lifts it. The sun has just slipped below the horizon. Behind me, I hear the soft pad of Rowan’s footsteps. His arms slide around my

~Liliana~Morning light slips through the heavy curtains of Rowan’s bedroom. I wake first, tangled in his arms, my cheek pressed to the rise and fall of his chest. His skin is warm, still carrying the scent of last night—sweat, sex. For a long moment I don’t move. I just listen to his heartbeat, slow and even, and let the weight of everything settle over me.We have won. Rebecca is safe. The custody battle is over. But lying here now, naked and wrapped around the man who paid me to pretend to love him, I feel something far more dangerous than relief. I feel real.Rowan stirs, his arm tightening around my waist as if he senses I might slip away. His eyes open, blue and heavy-lidded, finding mine in the quiet light. No words at first. Just his gaze raking over my face, down the curve of my bare shoulder, across the swell of my breast where the sheet has slipped low.“Good morning,” he murmurs, voice rough from sleep and everything we have done in the dark.“Morning.” I trace a finger al

~Rowan~~~A few months later~~We're in the courtroom. Every little sound, a chair scraping, someone clearing their throat, feels way too loud. I sit there in the front row with Liliana right beside me. Her hand rests on my thigh under the table lightly. It’s supposed to be for show, but I don’t know what the hell it is anymore. My hand covers hers. I keep tracing slow circles on her skin with my thumb where nobody can see.Across the aisle, Silvia sits with her lawyers, her face pulled tight like she’s holding in a scream. Every time she glances our way, her eyes lock on Liliana and me sitting so close. I keep my face calm, the way a man who’s happily married should look. Inside, my stomach is in knots, but it has nothing to do with the judge. It has everything to do with the woman whose fingers are warm against my leg.The judge flips through the last pages, her voice clear and final. “After reviewing all the evidence, including the stable home environment provided by Mr. Cavendish

~Liliana~These days after the gala don’t really settle into anything smooth. They just keep going, one after another, in a way that still catches me off guard. Every morning Rebecca wakes me up the same way, her little hands grabbing my arm and shaking until I open my eyes. She always has some urgent job for us, like lining up her stuffed animals for a big fight or sneaking a few extra strawberries from the kitchen before anyone notices. I catch how she presses closer when we sit with picture books or when she’s trying to write her letters. I don’t rush her. I just let it happen.Mr. Cavendish stays busy during the day. He shuts himself in his office for meetings and phone calls that drag on late. But it doesn’t feel like he’s ignoring me on purpose. When we do run into each other, in the hallway, at dinner, or when he stops by to kiss Rebecca goodnight—his eyes linger on mine a little longer than they need to. He doesn’t touch me much. Just a quick hand at my lower back when we squ

~Liliana~The ink on the contract has barely dried when the reality of what I have done crashes over me like cold water. I stand in the middle of the guest suite that is now officially mine, staring at the walk-in closet that could swallow my entire old apartment. Clothes I haven’t chosen hang in neat rows—soft cashmere sweaters, tailored trousers, silk blouses in shades that somehow flatter my auburn hair and hazel eyes. He has everything planned out already. A note pinned to one of the hangers reads, in that same crisp handwriting: Wear what feels right. The rest can be returned. No signature. Just Mr Cavendish, efficient even in generosity.I run my fingers over a midnight-blue dress that looks like it costs more than three months of my old rent. The fabric is cool and heavy, like it will move like water when I walk. I should feel excited. Instead, my stomach twists with something closer to vertigo. Last night I was throwing up on the man. This morning I signed months of my life aw

~Liliana~The ride back to my tiny apartment feels like stepping off one planet and landing on another. The fancy estate with its perfect green lawns disappears as I stare through the window, replaced by potholed streets, flickering street lamps, and buildings that look like they are one storm away from falling apart. When the black car finally stops in front of my building, I mumble a quick thanks to the driver and slip inside before I can change my mind. The stairwell hits me with that familiar mix of old takeout grease and damp, moldy carpet. My key jams in the lock like it always does, fighting me for a few seconds before it finally turns. Home sweet home.I kick my heels across the floor, yank off the dress, and stand under the shower until the water goes ice cold. My skin feels raw by the time I step out. I don’t bother drying my hair properly. I just crawl straight into my narrow bed, sheets still damp against my back, and stare up at the ugly water stain on the ceiling that ha

~SAFFRON~ “Oh, honey. Turn around. Let me take a good look at you.” My mom steps back, her hands clapping together beneath her chin as she beams at my reflection. She looks utterly radiant in her deep emerald gown, her dark hair pinned up into a flawless, elegant twist. “Mom, you look beautiful,” I say, smoothing down the silk of my champagne-colored dress. “We look beautiful,” she corrects, leaning down to press a quick kiss to my cheek. Her expensive perfume envelops me. Then her phone buzzes sharply. She glances at the screen, her expression shifting into hostess mode. “The Millers are downstairs.” She mutters and my heart skips a beat. “I have to go now. Don't be long, sweetie!” With a frantic wave, she hurries out. The soft rustle of her gown fades down the corridor until the heavy click of my bedroom door leaves me in silence. I take a slow, shaky breath and lift my left wrist, tracing the silver links of the charm bracelet Elixir gave me. It feels cold against my ski

~JASON~Account Restricted.The banking app flashes blood-red on my screen. I let out a flat laugh and toss my phone onto the mattress. Barely eight in the morning and my father has cut me off again. Classic. Freeze the accounts, lock the cards, and wait for me to come crawling. He still thinks money can control me, forgetting that stopped mattering the day my mother passed away while he was busy closing a deal across town.Flexing my right hand, the athletic tape pulls tight over my raw knuckles, sending a dull throb up my arm. Every time I close my eyes, I remember the feeling of Elixir’s jaw under my fist. The asshole came pretending to apologize, but all he did was taunt me by bringing up my mother. He deserved worse. My only regret is that she yelled at me to stop before I could do real damage.I pull a gray shirt over my head and head downstairs to clear my head and get some coffee. But the second I reach the bottom of the stairs, I realize I won’t find any peace today. The ho

~SAFFRON~ I stand up slowly and walk toward the stairs without a word. Behind me, my mom calls my name, her voice tight with an anxiety I can't face right now, but I keep moving. Reaching my bedroom, I close the door, and slide the lock into place. Sitting on the edge of my bed and tracing the rough seam of my jeans over and over. Where is Jason right now? The question won't stop looping, driving me crazy as I picture him driving too fast down the highway, his face bruised and his hands raw. I can still hear the tremor in his voice when he told Fred how easily his mother had been replaced, a raw flash of grief that reminds me of my father. My bag slips off my shoulder, hitting the floor with a heavy thud, and inside, my phone buzzes against the hardwood—another text from Elixir, followed immediately by another. I pull it out, staring at his name until my eyes burn, then hold down the power button until the screen goes completely black. Tossing it onto the nightstand, I bury my f

~SAFFRON~ The ride back to the mansion feels unbearably long. I keep my forehead pressed against the cool glass, watching the trees streak by in a hazy green blur. No matter how hard I try, the images from the courtyard refuse to fade. The sickening crack of fists on flesh. The roar of the crowd. Elixir’s bloody smirk as he hurled those vicious words about Jason’s mother. I had spent weeks convincing myself that Elixir was the safe choice—the steady, affectionate boyfriend who could give me something normal. But after today, that illusion is cracking. The cruelty I saw in him… it shocked me. I don’t know who he is anymore. And the worst part is, I’m torn between two boys who both scare me in different ways. By the time I arrive at the mansion, my stomach is in knots. I barely make it through the foyer before chaos erupts. The front doors shut behind me as Fred’s voice booms from the top of the grand staircase. “I had to walk out of a critical board meeting because the dean cal

~SAFFRON~The silence in the car is different today. Usually, the space between us fills easily with the radio or casual conversation about our classes. Today, the quiet is extremely suffocating, stretching like a physical wall across the center console.Elixir pulls up to the campus curb and puts the car in park, leaving the engine running."Here we are," he says softly. He forces a smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. The bright, confident spark he usually carries is missing, replaced by a fragile, careful politeness that makes my stomach twist with guilt."Thank you," I murmur, reaching for my bag.Before my fingers touch the handle, Elixir is already out of the car. He walks around the hood and opens my door as usual, offering his hand to help me out. His fingers are warm, but the moment my feet hit the pavement, he lets go. He doesn't lean in for a kiss. He doesn't drape his arm over my shoulder as we walk toward the courtyard. He treats me like I am made of glass, keeping a saf

~SAFFRON~ I grip the edges of Elixir’s overturned wooden nightstand and haul it upright. A few feet away, Elixir bends down to pick up two dented hockey trophies, his movements heavy and robotic. "You don't have to do this, Saff," His voice cracks as he sets the trophies back onto his desk. I look over at him, carrying a handful of torn hockey posters over to the trash can. "I want to. We're in this together." He nods slowly, reaching down to grab a broom to start sweeping up the shattered glass. Every time our hands brush while passing a stray item or clearing a shelf, Elixir offers a small, exhausted smile. The heavy, dangerous tension in his frame slowly starts to dissipate, anchored by the fact that we are fixing this together. When the floor is finally clear of glass and the furniture is back in place, an awkward, heavy silence settles over us. Elixir looks so vulnerable, so entirely drained by it all that I know I need to create a distraction before he spirals back int