Nobela ni Uyai Jimmy

The air around the house that day was fresh,yet the thickness could be felt far beyond a thousand metres. Outside, the evening wind rustled the bougainvillea by the gate, but inside, not a single sound stirred.Damian pulled up in the driveway, his fingers tightening around the steering wheel. The drive home had been unusually long; his mind had been chewing on a question he could no longer ignore.The moment he stepped out of the car, the family help appeared, almost running, to collect his suitcase. “Welcome, sir,” she said, bowing slightly. Her eyes darted toward the front door, then away, as though even meeting his gaze might spill some dangerous secret.He noticed it. He noticed everything.Damian handed her the suitcase, his jaw ticking once. It wasn’t often he felt out of control, but tonight there was a sensation in his chest he hadn’t entertained in years and that was confusion.What exactly is Lydia plotting? he wondered. Which woman in her right mind would so easily accept

Ava walked into the office that day with the same elegance she wore like armor — a black pencil skirt that hugged her hips, a silk blouse that caught the light, her heels clicking in deliberate rhythm against the polished floor. But no amount of poise could soften the heaviness that hung in the air.The moment she came out from the elevator, she felt it. Heads turned too quickly, conversations faltered and then resumed in hushed tones. The atmosphere wasn’t just tense — it was loaded.The reception area, usually alive with polite greetings and the low hum of keyboards, seemed charged with something darker. The HR assistant, who once smiled eagerly at her every morning, now gave a tight-lipped nod before glancing away. An intern near the copier avoided her gaze entirely, fumbling with a stack of papers.Her eyes were incapable of picking up what her ears could . Two junior analysts by the coffee station leaned in close, voices low but not low enough.“they said it was her. The slush fu

“Are you ready, honey?” Damian’s voice was deep and warm as he adjusted his wristwatch, watching Lydia through the mirror’s reflection.“I’m coming, baby,” she replied, spraying her perfume delicately over her collarbone. “Today is going to be so much fun.”Fun—but not the type Damian was expecting.He’d planned the beach date to reconnect, to mend fences, and perhaps reignite the flame with his wife. But Lydia had her own plans. She wore a sheer, ocean-blue dress that clung to her curves and revealed just enough to tease. And as she slipped her phone into her purse, she smiled at the message she’d just sent Ava. Would you like some fun? Here’s the address. Don’t be late.The car ride to Damian’s private beach was short and filled with light conversation. Lydia giggled at his jokes, stroked his thigh gently, even kissed his hand mid-drive. To Damian, it felt like a breakthrough.He had no idea she was setting the stage.The beach was breathtaking. The sun golden rays streamed down .

Ava stood up from the bed and sat at the edge.The sound of her alarm had just pulled her out of sleep, but her body felt too heavy to move fast. She sat there for a few seconds, her hand brushing her hair back as her eyes adjusted to the morning light.She got up slowly, her bare feet touching the cold floor as she walked to the window. When she pulled the curtain aside, the sunlight hit her face sharply, making her blink a few times. She let out a soft yawn, not because she was tired, but because her mind was already filled with thoughts she didn’t want to face yet.Then she saw it—the small folded note on the glass table near the window.Lydia had dropped it before leaving last night. Ava didn’t even need to read it yet. She recognized that handwriting anywhere. Lydia’s handwriting had always been beautiful. Bold, clean strokes. Perfect, just like her.Ava picked up the note, her fingers slowly running across the letters, but her mind wasn’t on the paper. It was on Lydia.How could

The message was simple. No signature. No flourish.Mandela hotels.Penthouse 14. Tonight. Come alone.”Ava read it twice, a slow grin curving her lips. Lydia wasn’t done playing.Good.The penthouse was dimly lit, the only illumination coming from the city lights that poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Lydia stood by the bar, dressed in a sleek black gown that was equal parts elegance and danger.Ava stepped inside, letting the door click shut behind her. The silence was a live current.“You called,” Ava said, tossing her clutch onto the couch.Lydia poured two glasses of whiskey, her movements fluid, composed. “I prefer to finish wars in private.”Ava sauntered closer, the slit of her dress parting with every step. “War, Lydia? I thought we were just getting acquainted.”Their eyes locked, the space between them charged with unspoken challenges. Lydia handed Ava a glass, their fingers brushing,intentionally.“Acquaintance isn’t the word I’d use,” Lydia murmured. “But you’re

The soft hum of the hairdryer filled the master bedroom as Lydia sat in front of her vanity, her movements unhurried, precise. Each stroke of her brush down her auburn hair was a ritual of composure. She had always believed power wasn’t loud; it was the calm in a storm, the quiet precision of a queen moving her chess pieces while others wasted energy on pawns.Last night had changed everything.Damian had come home as expected, filled with questions, suspicions, and unspoken guilt. He hadn't dared confront her outright. Instead, he had taken her—fierce, urgent—as though he could claim dominance through sex. But Lydia had given him what he wanted with a smile. Let him think he was in control.Foolish man.Her phone vibrated softly on the vanity. Lydia glanced at the screen without urgency. The message was from Mr. Kelvin—her discreet investigator.It’s done. Details are waiting. We found her pressure points.”Lydia's lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.She stood, smoot