Novels by Q.Monroe

Ariella had seen many versions of Lucien Draven: the controlled one, the furious one, the cold strategist, the man who held himself together even when the world was falling apart.But she had never seen this one.This Lucien was quiet. Too quiet.And silence from a man like him was far more dangerous than shouting ever could be.They were back in the safehouse Adrian had secured—a dim, bare room with concrete walls and only the soft hum of electricity in the background. Outside, the city was settling into night, unaware of the war gathering in its shadows.Ariella watched Lucien pace once from one end of the room to the other, the tension radiating off him like heat. Adrian stood near the door, arms folded, eyes fixed on the floor as if trying to piece together the right words. Rafael lingered near the window, observing the street below, jaw clenched.Everything they thought they knew had been flipped.Sebastian’s betrayal.Elise’s double game.Adrian’s hidden involvement.And now Raf

Ariella didn’t move at first.The world around her seemed to pause—the wind brushing over the old watchtower stones, the quiet rustle of dry leaves near Rafael’s boots, the distant echo of a bird cutting across the morning sky. Everything slowed, like the universe itself understood the gravity of the name he had just spoken.Mateo.Her brother.Her blood.Her past and her promise.Ariella swallowed, her throat suddenly tight—not with tears, but with a kind of silent determination that sat deep in her chest, heavy but unbreakable. She closed her eyes briefly, gathering herself in the single breath that steadied her more completely than anything else could.Lucien stepped closer, careful, almost afraid the wrong movement would shatter something inside her. “Ariella,” he said gently, “I know this isn’t what you wanted to hear today.”She opened her eyes. “It’s not what I ever wanted to hear.”Adrian stood on her other side, arms crossed, gaze sharp but softer than usual. He didn’t offer

The sun rose like it had been waiting for them.Soft gold spilled across the horizon, washing over the compound’s high walls, touching the cracked stones, catching on the metal railings that had witnessed too many secrets. Ariella stepped out first, the morning air brushing her skin like a reminder that she was still here, still standing, still choosing to face whatever waited ahead.No darkness behind her.No shadows she needed to outrun anymore.Just the truth she had been dragged toward for months, now opening before her like a path she finally had the courage to walk.Lucien watched her quietly as he closed the door behind them. There was no need for words. Not today. Not in this moment. He adjusted the strap of the small tactical bag across his chest, but his eyes never left Ariella.She didn’t look back at the house, or the room where she had spent the last night lying awake. She didn’t need to. Everything that needed to haunt her had already happened. There was no fresh nightma

Ariella didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Didn’t even breathe for a heartbeat.Because something had shifted inside her.Not violently… but deeply. Like a door she’d been afraid to open her whole life had finally creaked wider, showing a truth she couldn’t unsee anymore.Lucien felt it too. His eyes stayed on her, sharp, watchful, reading every flicker in her expression like it was a language only he understood.Rafael broke the silence first.“We need to move fast,” he said quietly. “Sebastian, Adrian… they’re not playing small anymore. If we take too long, they’ll rewrite the narrative again.”Ariella’s gaze dropped to the table.She wasn’t scared—not exactly.It felt more like standing on the edge of a place she’d been running from since the night her father died. A cliff she didn’t choose, but one she had to face if she wanted anything left of her life to be her own.Lucien took a step closer to her.“What’s on your mind?”Ariella hesitated, then lifted her eyes to him.“They’ve control

Ariella had never realized how loud stillness could be until this moment.The warehouse was quiet. Not the dangerous type of quiet she had grown used to over the past weeks, but a different kind. A quiet that felt like everyone was finally standing on the edge of something they could not walk back from.Lucien moved to her side without needing to be told. His presence didn’t overshadow the moment. He didn’t try to take control. He simply stood there, grounding her, watching the room with that sharp, calculating look he had when he was trying to hold a hundred pieces together.Adrian stood across from them. For the first time, his confidence had cracks in it. The kind that showed a man who had carried a truth too long and finally let it slip.And now there was Rafael.He leaned against a metal table, arms crossed, gaze flicking between all of them like he was studying a battlefield instead of people. Not hostile. Not friendly. Just… observant. Almost too calm for someone tied to the me

The house felt too still.Too calm.Too aware.Ariella stood beside the window long after Lucien and Rafael stepped out to speak with the guards. The glass reflected her face faintly — not frightened, not fragile, just… sharpened. Like her fear had finally learned how to stand straight.For weeks, Sebastian had been a shadow at the edge of every truth. A whisper behind every unanswered question. A hand behind every fire, every threat, every move that pushed her life off its axis.But tonight… tonight, he would no longer be a shadow.The door opened quietly behind her.Lucien stepped in first, his presence warm even before he spoke. “The perimeter is set. No one gets close without us knowing.”Ariella nodded, but her fingers tightened around the curtain.“Did Rafael say how he knows Sebastian will come tonight?” she asked.Lucien paused. “He didn’t say everything. But he’s certain.”“Certain or scared?” Ariella murmured.A voice answered from the hallway.“Both.”Rafael walked in, quie