Novels by Abby

Ariana's POV.The sun spilled lazily into the room through the half-drawn curtains, warm and golden against my skin. Roman was leaning against the balcony rail, his shirt hanging open as though he’d forgotten to finish dressing, his phone tucked into his palm. He had that quiet, unreadable look again, like his mind was circling a dozen places at once. But when his eyes met mine, it softened—like it always did, like I was the one thing capable of grounding him.“We’re done with exams,” he said simply, as though the idea had just come to him. “Let’s disappear for a while. Just you and me. Maldives. A whole month.”I blinked, sitting up in bed, his words sinking in slowly. “A month?” I repeated, half laughing, half choking on the possibility.He only smirked, stepping closer. “Yes, a month. I already checked—private villa, by the beach, no one to bother us. Just you, me… and the baby.” His hand slid absently across my stomach, though it was still too early to show.I swallowed the flutte

Roman's POV.The apartment smelled like her again. Vanilla and something softer, something that clung to her skin and the cushions she curled herself into. I dropped my keys on the counter, loosening my tie, and for the first time all day, I let myself breathe.A month. That’s how long it had been since I last stood toe-to-toe with my father. Since the venom between us nearly burned through the air. Since I swore to myself I wouldn’t let him pull me back into his shadows again. One month, and I hadn’t regretted a single thing I’d done. Not walking away from his empire. Not cutting through his threats. Not even spitting his own sins back in his face.Because at the end of it, I had her.Ariana was sitting on the couch when I walked in, her legs curled under her, a loose shirt hanging from her shoulders. She was awake this time, eyes following the door the second I opened it. And God, she smiled. That stupid, disarming smile that tore right through every wall I had left.“You’re late,”

The apartment was quiet when I walked in. Not the heavy kind of quiet that drips with tension… but the kind that sinks into your bones, warm and almost tender.The lights in the living room were dim, a soft golden glow spilling from the lamp by the couch. And there she was.Ariana.She’d curled up sideways, her knees tucked in, one arm draped lazily over a throw pillow. Her hair was a little messy, strands fanned over her cheek, and her breathing was slow, deep, steady. She didn’t even stir when I closed the door.For a moment, I just stood there.God, after everything today—the argument with Mark, the venom, the threats—I thought I’d be too wound up to feel anything but rage. But looking at her now… that all slipped away.It’s strange, isn’t it? How one person can be your calm and your chaos at the same time.I walked closer, my steps slow, quiet. She had no idea how beautiful she looked like this. She didn’t have to try. No makeup. No pretense. Just Ariana. My Ariana. The same girl

Roman's POVThe call came back faster than I expected.“No one’s talking,” my contact said. “Nothing’s moving. No whispers, no loose ends. Whoever you’re worried about… they’re not making a play.”I leaned back in my chair, frowning. “You’re sure?”“As sure as I can be without breaking into confession booths. It’s quiet.”I hung up and stared at the phone in my hand. Quiet. That should’ve been a relief but it wasn’t.Mark hadn’t shown up tonight because there was a problem.He’d shown up to be the problem. . . . .To remind me of the dirt I’d buried for him. To twist the knife just enough to make sure I remembered whose fingerprints were on the handle.I cleaned up his mess. His kill. His greed. And yet here he was, standing in my kitchen like he owned the air I breathed.My jaw ached from how hard I was clenching it.I grabbed my keys and phone, the decision hitting me before I’d even thought it through. If he wanted to get in my head, fine I’d make sure he saw exactly how little sp

Roman's POV.The kitchen smelled like garlic and butter.Ariana had been hovering beside me, passing me plates and making soft jokes that curled the corners of my mouth without me realizing.For the first time in days, I wasn’t thinking about the mess outside these walls.Then—three knocks.Not rushed. Not hesitant.Measured. Exact.I froze.Ariana looked at me. “Want me to—?”“No.” My voice was sharper than I meant it to be. “I’ll get it.”She stayed put while I wiped my hands and walked to the door. My steps felt heavier with each one. I already knew.When I opened it, there he was.Mark.Perfect suit, perfect tie, perfect mask of composure. His cologne—expensive, suffocating—hit first. His eyes, however, were the same as they’d always been: calculating, predatory, the kind that could strip you down to the bone without lifting a finger.> “Roman,” he said, with the kind of smoothness people mistake for charm. “We should talk.”“What do you want?” I didn’t step aside.> “Privately.”

Ariana's POVI didn’t even remember when I’d fallen asleep.One moment, I was curled up on the couch, Roman’s voice low in my ears… and the next, I was waking up to the faint hum of silence.Only, it wasn’t really silent.There was a sound—a soft, rhythmic sizzling. And an incredible smell.I blinked my eyes open, squinting at the dim light filtering through the curtains.This… wasn’t my bed.The sheets were cooler than they should’ve been, but they smelled like him—clean, masculine, and maddeningly warm. I sat up slowly, my hair a mess, my limbs heavy from sleep. My bare toes touched the wooden floor, and the faint aroma of something rich and savory drifted through the air again, pulling me out like a string around my finger.Following it, I padded down the hall, the scent growing stronger. Garlic. Butter. Something that made my stomach instantly growl.I turned the corner and froze.Roman was at the stove, sleeves rolled to his elbows, one hand gripping the pan handle, the other tos

*Damien*The moment Scarlett stepped out of the office, Ivy broke down.Her hands trembled as she tried to wipe her face, her voice cracking. “I just I can’t stop seeing it, Damien. Every time I close my eyes… Ana’s face, the blood”Before I could react, she stumbled forward and wrapped her arms around me. For a second, I froze, caught off guard. Her body was shaking, her clothes still damp from the rain. She looked terrified. Completely undone.I sighed quietly and pulled her closer, one hand resting gently on her back. “Hey… it’s okay,” I murmured. “You’re safe now. You hear me?”She nodded against my chest, her breathing uneven. “I didn’t know where else to go,” she whispered. “I’ve been trying to sleep but I keep waking up… I keep hearing her scream.”Her voice broke, and I felt her tears soak through my shirt.I tightened my arm around her, slow and steady, letting her calm down. “It’s over, Ivy. What happened wasn’t your fault.”She pulled back just a little, her eyes glossy and

IvyI decided to go to Damien’s house. It was raining, the kind of heavy, biting rain that made the air feel like ice against my skin. Still, I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed my bag, threw on my clothes, and pulled a cap low over my head before boarding a cab straight to his apartment.The ride felt endless, fifteen minutes stretching like hours, every second dragging as the rain hammered down on the roof. When we finally pulled into his estate, I paid the driver and stepped out. My shoes sank into puddles, my clothes already plastered to my body by the storm.The garden looked different. Maybe because it had been so long since I was here… or maybe because the air itself carried a weight tonight. Something about it felt wrong.That’s when I saw them.Two men in sharp suits, standing stiff, their posture too precise. They looked like those hot FBI agents you see in movies, the kind that don’t miss a single detail. My stomach dropped. My heart raced so fast I thought it might rip through my

*Damien*I stood in my office, hands braced on the edge of the desk, staring down at the untouched glass of whiskey in front of me. The amber liquid glowed faintly in the late afternoon light, but I hadn’t taken a sip. Not yet.I hadn’t earned the relief.The weight of Ana’s death still clung to the air—heavy, suffocating. Her blood was no longer on the floor, but it was everywhere else. On my conscience. In my lungs. Beneath my skin.I had failed her.And Ivy.And Scarlett.I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to steady my heartbeat that always spiraled when I thought too long about what if.What if the killer had gone after Scarlett?What if Ivy didn’t make it out?What if this was only the beginning?I hadn’t slept since the night it happened.“Sir?” Malik’s voice came from the hallway, dragging me from my thoughts. “Scarlett’s in the garden. Do you want me to keep eyes on her?”I glanced at the clock. Scarlett had said she wanted some air earlier. She needed space, and after all t

*Damien*The Next Day“So, this is the easiest way to reach all of us at once,” I said, standing at the center of the main living space in the estate, now turned into a makeshift security hub.“We’ll tour the entire premises after lunch. That way everyone gets familiar with the layout.”After everything that happened… Ana’s death, Ivy’s tears, Scarlett’s fear I wasn’t taking any more risks. I'd doubled the security across the entire property. My wife deserved to feel safe. And I needed to feel like I could protect what mattered most.The truth was, I still felt like a monster.Ivy. That night. The sex. The chaos. The guilt.It clung to me like smoke after a fire, suffocating and unshakable. What I felt for Ivy whatever it was had morphed into a knot of shame and regret. I cared for her once, maybe more than I should have.But yesterday, when I saw Scarlett, heard her voice trembling in fear, saw her protectively cradle her stomach…It hit me.What I had with Ivy wasn’t love.It was lu

*Ivy*Police swarmed the hotel like ants on sugar blue lights flashing, yellow tape cutting off every corridor. Investigators, medics, cameras. It was chaos. Controlled, methodical chaos.And I stood right in the middle of it, crying.Or at least… pretending to.Tears rolled down my cheeks, my body trembling like a scared little girl. I could’ve won an Oscar."The man attacked both of you?" the officer asked gently, his pen ready."Y-Yes," I mumbled, my voice cracking as I sniffled. I dabbed my eyes with a tissue Damien had handed me earlier. The officer nodded, scribbling into his notepad."He was insane," I added, shaking my head, forcing my lip to tremble like I was still shaken to the core.He glanced at his notes. "You said he was a white male, approximately 30 to 40 years old. Dressed in all black. Wielded only a knife?"I nodded quickly. "Yes. I was so scared. Ana… she tried to protect me. And he...."I broke down again, letting out a sob for good measure. “She didn’t deserve t

Present Moment*Damien*The way Ivy’s voice quivered with fear hit me harder than any threat ever could. It reminded me of a truth I’d long buried beneath power and success—being a billionaire CEO of a massive company doesn’t just make me a target. It paints a red mark on the backs of everyone I care about.And now… this.The guilt twisted deep in my chest, sick and sharp. I should’ve been more careful. I should’ve done more. This never would’ve happened if I had better security, tighter control, fewer blind spots.This tragedy—Ana’s blood, Ivy’s trembling hands—it was on me.“Who was he? What’s his name?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.“I… I don’t know,” she choked out, tears cracking her voice like glass.Her pain gutted me. And worse? I knew she was trying to be strong—for me. For all of us. But it was me who failed her.I pulled her into my arms, holding her like I could somehow squeeze the fear out of her body and into mine. “It’s okay… You’re safe now,” I whispered int