Novels by Don Light

Evading Raymond is akin to attempting to restrain the ocean's waves. Regardless of my efforts, he always manages to invade my existence, dragging me down before I'm aware that I'm sinking. And the most disappointing aspect? I'm unsure whether I wish to be rescued. Another Unsuccessful Try I rise up resolved. Today, I will not focus on him. I will avoid looking at him. I won't allow my heart to deceive me with its foolish, racing beats whenever he is close. I remain in my room for the majority of the morning, not daring to look out the window in case I spot him. Yet by afternoon, the walls seem to be closing in on me, overwhelming me with thoughts I wish to avoid. I require oxygen. I enter the garden, the cool breeze refreshing my warm skin. The sun shines brightly, the sky is infinite, and for a fleeting instant, I sense freedom. And afterward- "Escaping once more?" I stop moving. Certainly. Certainly, he is here. I inhale slowly before I turn. Raymond is positioned at th

I awaken with a startled breath, my chest heaving up and down swiftly. My heart races within my chest as I rise from bed, clutching the blankets. My body feels heated, my hands sweaty, and for a brief moment, I find it hard to distinguish reality from the dream I just experienced. A vision. No, it seemed too genuine. I shut my eyes tightly, attempting to remember every detail. The gentle light of golden chandeliers, the sound of voices gradually disappearing as I remained in the center of an elegant ballroom. My gown was white, lengthy, and draped softly like silk on my skin. And afterward- Raymond. He stood before me, his tailored suit fitting his form impeccably. His gaze-deep, powerful, fixed solely on me. His face contained an emotion I had never encountered before. Weakness. He then knelt down on one knee. "Gracie," his voice resonated in my thoughts. "I'm unsure how this occurred, but I can't imagine a future without you." "Wed me." The recollection causes my breath to c

As soon as I hear her voice, a chill runs through my entire body. I can tell who it is without needing to face them. That piercing, authoritative voice. That presence that causes the atmosphere in the room to change. Georgia Silver. Raymond's mom. My breath halts in my throat as I turn gradually, my heart racing. And there she stands, in the middle of the living room as if she controls the universe. Her sleek, dark dress clings to her tall figure, and her striking blue eyes-resembling Raymond's-examine the room with a look of hardly masked disdain. Next to her is a man I have encountered only once before-Raymond's father, a silent but similarly imposing figure. However, it's she who frightens me the most. My abdomen contorts in agony. I recognize that expression in her gaze. She doesn't have to vocalize it-I can already perceive it in my mind. What on earth is she still doing here? "Raymond," Georgia says, her tone cutting like a knife. "We arrived to talk business, but instead

I walk back and forth in my room, my heart thumping against my chest. My hands shake, and I'm not sure why. It's merely breakfast. It's merely Raymond facing me, urging me to eat. That shouldn't evoke any feelings in me. Yet it does. I glide my hands along my arms, attempting to dispel the discomfort creeping across my skin. My mind is weighed down by thoughts, and regardless of my efforts to dismiss them, they continually return. "What is the matter with me?" I murmur, gazing at my image in the mirror. The girl gazing at me appears to be unfamiliar. Her hair is untidy, her lips are a bit puffy from yesterday's kiss, and her eyes-oh, her eyes-carry an overwhelming mix of feelings. I tightly shut my eyes, taking a deep breath. This is not love. It isn't possible. How could I be attracted to a killer? Raymond is perilous, merciless. I have witnessed him inflict pain on men without flinching. I have listened to their cries resonating within the mansion, pleading for compassion th

The atmosphere surrounding us is dense, filled with a sensation I can't quite grasp. I remain stuck in position, my back against the wall. Raymond is in front of me, his shirt drenched with the blood of another man. The metallic aroma hangs in the air, potent and overwhelming. His deep-set eyes remain fixed on mine. He is anticipating something. Perhaps he's anticipating that I will flee, shout, or plead. However, I engage in none of those activities. I cannot. I can't figure out what's the matter with me. Raymond raises his hand, the one still smeared with blood, and holds it near my face. I recoil, my breath catching. However, rather than making contact with me, he grins and wipes it on his shirt. "You're not sprinting," he states, his tone subdued, nearly playful. I gulp, my throat parched. "Am I supposed to?" He inclines slightly, his eyes darting to my lips for a brief moment before going back to my gaze. "Indeed." I sense my heart pounding in my chest, urging me to go,

The mansion is quiet at this time, with only the sporadic noise of guards walking outside. I sit with my legs crossed on my bed, gazing at the ceiling, my mind a battlefield of opposing thoughts. I ought to dislike this place. I ought to dislike Raymond Silver. However, I do not. Not completely. I released an exasperated sigh, falling onto my back. I was meant to be a captive, right? A prisoner in her reality, a girl taken from all she understood. Here I stand, clad in silk pajamas, surrounded by a wardrobe of designer gowns and an abundance of opulence beyond my wildest dreams. Raymond purchases items for me. He ensures I eat, that I rest properly, and that I'm never at risk. He never puts his hands on me in rage. It feels as though I am- I suddenly sit up, my heart racing. No. That's absurd. That's crazy. However, my deceitful mind refuses to release it. What if... what if I were his spouse? I snicker, shaking my head in disbelief at my own actions. "You're losing it, G