Novels by Naimles A

"Do you have any idea what I’m going to do to you for this?"Thaddeus didn't wait for an answer. He took another step, his presence bringing with it the suffocating stench of expensive scotch and the entitlement of a man who had never been told no. He didn't look at the leather folder in my hand; his eyes were too busy performing a slow, revolting inventory of my body."Actually, I think I like this version of you," he purred, a sickening, familiar smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. He reached out, not to strike me, but to run a thick, sweaty finger along the plunging neckline of my gown. "Who knew that under those drab aprons and basement shadows, there was actually a woman worth looking at? I suppose I should thank the old man for cleaning the dirt off my shoes before returning them to me."I felt a wave of nausea so strong I had to grit my teeth to keep from gagging. I stood like a statue of ice, my pulse steady, my eyes locked on his."You look delicious, Ronnie. Truly,"

The interior of the Rolls Royce was a tomb of black leather and suffocating silence. I sat as far from him as the wide bench seat would allow, my gloved hands clasped tightly in my lap. My neck burned—not from the marks Flyn had highlighted, but from the searing embarrassment of my own hands. 'Why did I touch his tie? Why did I let my body remember how to be a wife to a man who isn't mine?'Maxwell didn't look at me. He stared out the tinted window, his silver mask a cold, unreadable barrier."You’re shaking," he rasped, the sound cutting through the hum of the engine like a blade."I’m not," I lied, my voice thin."Don't lie to me, Veronica. It’s beneath you now." He turned his head slowly, the obsidian slits of his mask locking onto mine. "Are you shaking because of what you did to my tie, or because of the door we’re about to walk through?""Both," I admitted, my shoulders dropping. "I feel like a fraud. I’m wearing forty thousand dollars in silk and diamonds, but I’m still the gi

"Let’s stop wasting each other’s time, yeah? We have a massacre to prep for, and you’re standing here with a spatula."Flyn didn't wait for an answer. He hooked his arm through mine with a strength that belied his slender frame and dragged me out of the kitchen. Cresinta watched us go with wide, silent eyes, still clutching the crystal carafe like a holy relic.We bypassed the grand foyer and headed into a wing of the mansion I hadn't seen yet. Flyn pushed open a set of heavy, white-lacquered double doors, and my breath hitched.It was a cathedral of vanity. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors reflected a room packed with racks of designer silk, velvet, and leather. Rows of glass cases held diamonds that caught the dim morning light like frozen tears. A vanity table the size of a dinner table was covered in every cosmetic known to man.I felt a sudden, sharp pang of jealousy that tasted like ash. 'Is this for Meredith?' I wondered, my heart sinking.'Did he love her this much that he kept her th

The aftermath of the night was draped over every surface—shredded black silk, the lingering, heavy scent of woodsmoke, and the silver mask lying discarded on the plush carpet like a fallen, hollow idol.I lay awake, my eyes tracing the intricate moldings of the ceiling. My body felt heavy, marked by the possessive weight of a man who was, by every legal and biological definition, my father-in-law.I waited for the crushing wave of guilt to suffocate me. I waited for the phantom of Thaddeus to appear in the shadows, pointing a finger at the unfaithful wife who had committed the ultimate sacrilege. But as the minutes ticked by, the only thing I felt was a terrifying, crystalline sense of justice.How could I be unfaithful to a man who had appraised me like livestock? Thaddeus hadn't treated me like a wife; he’d treated me like a piece of inherited furniture he had grown bored of owning. He had sold me to cover a gambling debt, trading my dignity for a seat at a table. In the silence of

"Y-your face? You’re allowing me to see your face?"My voice was a fragile thing, barely a whisper that seemed to die before it could reach the vaulted ceiling of the suite. The air was still thick with the heat of our bodies, but a sudden, ancestral chill began to seep into the room. Maxwell didn't move. He sat on the edge of the bed like a dark, immovable monolith, his hand still hovering near the latch of his mask."I am allowing you to see the truth, Veronica," he rasped, his voice a low vibration that thrummed through the mattress. "But truths are like shadows—the brighter the light you throw on them, the deeper they stain."He didn't take the mask off himself. Instead, he reached out, his large, calloused hand enveloping my trembling fingers. His skin was scorching, a feverish contrast to the freezing silver he forced my hand to touch. My heart was a frantic bird trapped in my chest, each beat echoing the hollow silence of the room."Take it off," he commanded, his grip firm as

The fire was dying, the last of the embers casting a deep, flickering crimson over the black silk of the bed. I lay there, my skin still sensitive from the weight of Maxwell’s body, feeling the heavy thud of the leather folder he had dropped onto the mattress. The heat of our intimacy hadn't even fully evaporated before the cold reality of the law was thrust between us.I reached out, my fingers trembling as I flipped the cover open. The documents inside were sterile, smelling of high-grade bond paper and the sharp, clinical scent of fresh ink. Seeing "Thaddeus Hudson" and "Veronica Marquez" printed on the same line for what I knew would be the last time felt like watching a ghost leave my body. For three years, those names together had been a cage. Now, they were just a smudge of black on a page that Maxwell had bought and paid for."Do you feel peace, Veronica?"Maxwell didn't move. He remained a dark, imposing silhouette at the edge

The words were still vibrating in the air when Gio reached out, his hand wrapping firmly around my wrist. Before I could even protest, he hauled me over the threshold and into the inner sanctum of his bedroom. The door clicked shut behind us, the lock engaging with a heavy, final sound that made my stomach do a nervous flip.The room was vast, draped in shadows and smelling of expensive cedar and Gio’s signature cologne. My heart was hammering against my ribs, the binder feeling tighter than ever. I scanned the room, my eyes landing on a sleek, charcoal-colored leather sofa near the window. Without a word, I scurried over to it and sat down, my back as straight as a board. "What are you doing over there?" The question came from the edge of the massive, king-sized bed. Gio had already kicked off his shoes and was sitting on the silk duvet, his tie loosened and his hair a mess. He looked at me like I’d just told him the sky was green."I'm sitting," I said, my voice higher than I int

The ink of my signature was still wet on the paper when Gio snatched the contract away, clutching it to his chest as if it were a winning lottery ticket. The terrifying, cold-blooded Don Vitale was gone, replaced by a man who looked like he’d just been told he was allowed to keep the moon.I leaned back against the edge of his massive desk, crossing my arms over my chest to hide the frantic thumping of my heart. "You know," I started, a mischievous glint in my eyes, "you’re lucky I came back at all. Jett gave me a very interesting live show while I was out."Gio’s head snapped up, his brow furrowing in confusion. "A show? What are you talking about? Did he take you somewhere?""No, Gio. He flipped his camera," I teased, stepping into his space until I could see the golden flecks in his dark irises. "I saw everything. The phone-slamming. The pacing. The way you were growling at your paperwork like it had personally insulted you. I didn't realize the big, bad boss spent his afternoons

"Let’s go... b-babe."The way the word tumbled out of Gio’s mouth was almost pathetic. It sounded like he’d swallowed a stone and was trying to choke it back up. He didn't wait for me to answer, his hand clamping onto my bicep with a grip that was less romantic partner and more arresting officer.He hauled me toward the grand staircase, his legs moving twice as fast as mine. I had to practically skip to keep up, my sneakers squeaking indignantly against the polished marble. I glanced up, ready to snap at him for the manhandling, but the words died in my throat. Gio was staring straight ahead with a fixated, glass-eyed intensity, his jaw working so hard I thought his teeth might crack.But it was his ears that told the real story—they were a deep, burning crimson, glowing like taillights against his dark hair. The most feared Don in the city was currently short-circuiting because of a four-letter word and a cheek kiss.He dragged me into his private study and slammed the heavy oak doo

The taxi ride back was a blur of rain-streaked windows and the rhythmic thumping of my own heart. I leaned my head against the cool glass, watching the city lights dissolve into long, jagged smears of neon. My mind was a battlefield.'Is this right?' I asked myself, the image of my mother’s pale face in the hospital bed flickering behind my eyelids. 'Will this protect us, or am I just building a prettier cage?' Every logical bone in my body told me to run, to take my leave and never look back. But then, the memory of Gio in the office—the way he had whispered Allizander like it was a holy relic—sent a traitorous, warm flutter through my chest. It was a terrifying sensation, a spark of life in a heart I had tried so hard to keep numb.'Fine,' I thought, as the massive wrought-iron gates of the Vitale estate groaned open. 'Let’s just go with the flow. If the world burns tomorrow, at least I’ll know I wasn't just a spectator. I’ll face the wreckage when it comes.'I paid the driver and

I didn't reply to the texts. I couldn't.After I saw his messages—the way he admitted the house felt too quiet without me—sleep became an impossible luxury. I spent the rest of the night staring at the flickering heart monitor, the green line dancing in time with my own frantic pulse. Every time I closed my eyes, I felt the phantom weight of his head on my lap. I knew right then that I’d be bothered by his words until the very end of this day. Giovanni Vitale didn't just command a room; he commanded the air in my lungs, even from miles away.As the sun began to bleed through the hospital blinds, turning the sterile white walls into a soft, bruised gold, I stood up and stretched my aching limbs. I leaned down, pressing my forehead against my mother’s knuckles, the skin papery and cool."I have to go, Mom," I whispered, my voice thick with exhaustion. "I’m going to meet Beatriz today. I need to breathe for a second before I go back to my work. I'm

The vibration of his voice against my chest was a physical pull, a gravitational force that threatened to swallow me whole. For a heartbeat, my fingers stayed tangled in his hair, yielding to the sheer, impossible softness of the moment. But then, the reality of the binder tight against my skin and the web of lies between us snapped back into focus.I pushed.It wasn't a gentle nudge. I shoved his shoulders with a frantic strength, scrambling backward until I hit the opposite end of the sofa. My breath was coming in ragged, shallow hitches."Stop," I gasped, my hands trembling as I smoothed down my oversized shirt. "Gio, stop. You’re… you’re exhausted. You’re delirious. You’re playing some kind of twisted game to see how far you can push your medic."Gio sat up slowly, his dark hair messy from my touch, his eyes hooded and tracking my every panicked move. He didn't look angry. He looked steady—terrifyingly steady."I don't play games with