Novels by Kester

Lucy truly seemed to have lost her sanity. Everything she did today was no longer about love—it was about wounded pride, about pain that had transformed into a burning vengeance. She would not allow any woman to possess Vicktor’s heart and then dance on the ruins of her suffering. Not now. Not ever.Today was the decisive day. The day revenge had to be completed, so Vicktor would understand one thing clearly: Lucy was not a woman who could be discarded and underestimated so easily.“Finally, I can get away from Vicktor’s car,” Lucy muttered with a smile full of schemes. Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, her eyes fixed on the straight road ahead. Vicktor’s car grew smaller in the rearview mirror—far enough that it could no longer block her path.“You see that yourself, don’t you?” Lucy chuckled, then laughed louder. “I will definitely win. And you…” She glanced briefly toward the back seat. “…you will only become a pitiful girl.”Lucy’s laughter echoed inside the car, sound

Amora’s heart pounded faster as the car continued to speed forward with no clear direction. The road ahead felt unfamiliar, far too deserted for an hour that should have still been bustling. Streetlights flashed past in rapid succession, casting long shadows that made her chest tighten even more.Her hands clutched the bag on her lap tightly. Her fingers were cold, slick with sweat. Her eyes stayed alert, fixed on the man’s back behind the wheel—a back that felt too stiff, too silent, too unsettling.“Sir, please stop the car,” Amora said again, this time more firmly, struggling to suppress the tremor in her voice.There was no answer.Instead, the car accelerated. The engine roared as if deliberately challenging her fear.Amora swallowed hard. “Sir… I said stop the car!”Suddenly, the hand on the steering wheel lifted. The black cap that had been covering the driver’s head was slowly removed. Long blond hair fell freely, catching the sunlight. Then came a soft laugh—cold, mocking, an

Vicktor glanced at his wristwatch for the umpteenth time. Nine fifteen. Elisha should have arrived fifteen minutes ago.The man stood behind his desk, both hands resting on the surface of the dark wood. His gaze pierced the glass window of the twentieth-floor office, yet his mind was not truly there. An uneasy feeling had been clinging to him since morning—a feeling he found difficult to explain.A light knock sounded on the door.“Mr. Vicktor,” his secretary’s voice came politely. “The overseas guests are waiting.”“Send them in,” Vicktor replied shortly.He glanced at his phone again. The screen remained empty. No message. No phone call from Elisha.His brow furrowed. “Did Elisha decide not to come to the office?” he muttered quietly. Vicktor immediately typed a message.[El, has the driver who was supposed to pick you up arrived at your house?]The message was sent. A few seconds later, two gray check marks appeared.But there was no reply.Vicktor exhaled briefly, then slipped his

Vicktor stepped into the guest bedroom quietly. The bedside lamp glowed dimly, revealing Amora sitting on the edge of the bed. She looked restless, her fingers twisting together as if her thoughts refused to stay still.“Are you not asleep yet?” Vicktor asked as he gently closed the door.Amora turned quickly. A hint of surprise crossed her face before it shifted into hesitation. “Vick… I… I heard Kelly’s voice downstairs,” she finally said. It sounded like a reasonable excuse. In truth, moments earlier she had been absorbed in watching a drama about Lucy leaving that grand house—a scene that had felt disturbingly real in her mind.Vicktor nodded slowly. He stepped closer and stopped a short distance from her. In his thoughts, one thing surfaced again. Elisha—the woman with him now—truly loved Kelly with all her heart. There was no falseness in her eyes, he thought.And at that moment, Vicktor felt certain once more. He had not been wrong to divorce his wife in order to be with Elisha

Lucy grabbed the large suitcase the maid had placed at the foot of the bed. Her hands trembled—not from fear, but from a fury she could no longer contain. She shoved several clothes into the suitcase with harsh, jerking motions, as if every piece of fabric were years of accumulated resentment.“Don’t just stand there like a statue! Hurry up and finish everything!” Lucy snapped at the maid, making the woman in the housekeeper uniform flinch.The maid could only nod, her face pale. She lowered her head and continued folding the clothes in silence.Vicktor remained standing by the bedroom door, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were cold, unmoving. His anger didn’t explode the way Lucy’s did—his was silent, yet far more suffocating.Lucy stopped her movements, then turned to face him. “So this is our end, Vick? Is it really that easy for you to discard someone who has stayed by your side for years?”Vicktor didn’t respond. His silence cut deeper than any words could.Lucy let out

Vicktor tightened his grip on Amora’s hand, his fingers firm as if he had no intention of letting her go. Without giving Lucy the slightest chance to speak, he pulled Amora away from the living room.Amora had no choice but to follow his steps, even as her mind filled with questions. Just before crossing the doorway, she turned. Her gaze met Lucy’s—eyes blazing with a mix of anger and disbelief. Yet Amora, for some reason, forced a faint smile. A smile that looked like victory.That smile became the final spark that made Lucy explode.“Vicktor, wait! I’m not done talking!” Lucy shouted, her voice cracking. “No matter what, I will never sign those divorce papers! Never, Vick!”Lucy stopped right at the bottom of the staircase, her breath uneven.But Vicktor didn’t turn around at all. He and Amora continued climbing each step without slowing down.Lucy lifted her head, staring at their backs as they disappeared behind the wall of the second floor. Her hands clenched so tightly that her

Hana rose from her seat the moment Hans stood and reached for his jacket.“Hans, where are you going?” she asked, her voice trembling as she looked at the young man in worry.“To the place where I can find that bastard!”Hans’s right hand clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. His jaw locked. His eyes burned with rage.He couldn’t wait any longer. Barron Cross had crossed the line—laying a hand on Angelina was the same as begging him to come and finish him.“Hans, you mustn’t act recklessly!” Hana cried, stepping closer.She knew all too well how dangerous the enemy they were facing was.“That man… the one we’re dealing with isn’t a good person. He’s a wicked creature beyond the devil. If you go without a plan, you might not come back.”Hans paused for a moment, turning toward the older woman. His gaze was sharp, yet filled with fear.“Hana, don’t stop me anymore. Angelina’s life is more precious than anything.”His voice cracked. There were wounds, anxieties that had been pil

For the entire day, not a single bite of food entered his stomach. The hunger seemed to vanish, replaced by a tension that tightened his chest and a panic that strangled his thoughts.Several times the servants came to offer dinner, but Hans only shook his head without looking at them. His appetite had disappeared, just like his peace of mind.How could he be calm when Angelina’s whereabouts were still unknown?For the past hour, he had only sat in front of his laptop, opening dozens of news tabs and internal reports, hoping that even a single new piece of information would appear. But the screen remained empty of answers.“Good evening, Young Master Hans.”The voice appeared suddenly, making Hans turn his chair toward the door.“Paul? What are you doing here?” he asked flatly, his gaze sharp and cold.“Young Master—”Before the sentence could be finished, Hans cut him off immediately. “If you’re not bringing information about Angelina, you’d better get out of my house.”His tone was

Axton stormed out of his office, his steps hurried and tense. His face was tight, his eyes sweeping through the corridor as if searching for something—or someone—precious. His breath came fast.“Have you seen my grandmother pass through here?” he demanded sharply at two staff members carrying stacks of documents.They exchanged a quick glance before one of them bowed slightly and answered nervously, “I’m sorry, Mr. Axton, we haven’t seen your grandmother.”Axton exhaled sharply through his nose, his jaw tightening. “Then find her! Make sure every floor is checked!” he barked, his voice echoing down the hall. The employees straightened immediately, knowing that when their boss spoke in that tone, something serious was happening.Without wasting another second, Axton strode toward the security post. “You,” he said, pointing at one of the guards. “Use the CCTV. Find Grandma Hana. I want every corner of this building checked.”“Yes, sir!” the guard replied quickly.Axton stood before the

Hans could no longer wait. His body was still weak—he had been put on an IV again, but it lasted only a few minutes before he tore it out completely. The pain in his heart was far worse than the wounds on his body. With a determined expression, Hans rose from the hospital bed, ignoring the doctor’s voice calling after him.“Master Hans! Your wounds haven’t healed yet, please get back to bed!” the doctor cried out in panic.But Hans only glanced at him briefly. “I don’t have time for that. I have to find Angelina.”His five personal bodyguards, who had been waiting outside, immediately approached the moment they saw Hans leaving the room. “We’re going to Almero’s office,” Hans ordered swiftly. “Search every room there. I’m sure there’s something that can lead us to a clue.”Without wasting another second, they sped toward the Almero building. The road felt endlessly long for Hans, while his thoughts kept racing through the worst possibilities. Every passing second without any news from

That morning, the atmosphere in the Almero family dining room appeared warm, yet beneath that warmth lingered a subtle air of rivalry. Everyone had gathered, enjoying breakfast together. Moreen busied herself moving back and forth, serving food and pouring warm unsweetened tea into Hana’s cup. Her smile was sweet, but her gaze was full of calculation.“Please, Grandma,” Moreen said softly, offering a neatly arranged plate of bread and fruit.Hana gave a faint smile—neither refusing nor showing enthusiasm. She merely looked at her granddaughter-in-law with an unreadable expression.Across the table, Evelyn watched the scene with sharp eyes. She raised her brow, holding back the urge to comment on Moreen’s behavior, which she found revolting. That woman thinks Grandma will like her? Of course not! Evelyn sneered inwardly. I’ll be the one to expose your true colors, Moreen.Meanwhile, Axton remained silent, eating the breakfast prepared by his wife without saying much. He appeared calm,

Hans sat on the edge of the hospital bed, staring blankly at the door. The clock’s hands pointed to ten at night, yet there was still no sign of Angelina. Every passing second felt slow and suffocating. He had tried to calm himself, but the longer he waited, the more restless he became.With trembling hands, Hans grabbed his phone and pressed Paul’s contact. A moment later, the man’s deep voice came through the receiver.“Hello, good evening, Young Master Hans. Paul speaking,” he said casually.“Paul, deploy all your men to search for Angelina’s whereabouts!” Hans ordered, his tone firm yet quivering with panic.Paul paused for a second, then chuckled lightly. “Looking for Miss Angelina? Where did she go, Young Master? Did you two have a fight?” he teased, thinking it was just a trivial matter.“Paul! I’m serious! Angelina’s been missing since this afternoon. Her phone’s off, and she’s not in her apartment!” Hans’s voice rose sharply, loud enough for a few nurses outside the room to g