Novels by Krysteewrites

SEIRRA'S POINT OF VIEW Two years later. I woke up to the soft patter of tiny feet running across the hallway, followed by a high-pitched giggle that never failed to warm me from the inside out. Before I could even sit up, the door to our bedroom creaked open and a little girl tumbled inside. “Mummy! Mummy!” she squealed, her hair wild and curly, bouncing around her round cheeks. I smiled, my heart bursting as I held out my arms. “Come here, sweetheart.” She dashed to the bed with all the determination her small legs could muster, climbing up with the grace of a clumsy kitten before throwing herself into my embrace. I pressed a kiss to her forehead and inhaled the faint scent of baby powder. Her name was Aria Foster. My daughter. My miracle. Strong. Unique. Precious. She was only one year and nine months old, but she had already changed my entire world. S

SEIRRA'S POINT OF VIEW The week after the wedding was pure chaos—boxes stacked in every corner, Claire rolling her eyes dramatically as she helped me sort out clothes, Becca teasing me about how many dresses I wanted to bring along as if I was moving my entire wardrobe. Liam was calm though, annoyingly calm. While I panicked over swimsuits, sandals, and dresses, he simply folded three shirts, two shorts, and called it a day. “Babe,” he said, watching me dart around the room with hangers in both hands, “we’re going for two weeks, not relocating permanently.” I shot him a glare. “And what if we decide to stay longer? What if I want to look good for every sunrise and every dinner? What if—” “—what if you end up living in your swimsuit like I know you will?” He grinned, tugging me closer by the waist until I dropped all the clothes onto the bed. “You could wear the same thing for two week

SEIRRA'S POINT OF VIEW The sun had barely slipped through the curtains when I stirred awake, the faint warmth brushing over my face like a soft whisper. My eyes fluttered open, and there he was—Liam—fast asleep beside me, his chest rising and falling in steady rhythm. His hair was a little messy, his arm loosely sprawled across me as if even in sleep, his body refused to let me go. I smiled. The kind of smile that blooms without permission, because the heart can’t help but overflow. I stayed there for a moment, watching him, marveling at how he looked so peaceful. So safe. So mine. I wanted to trace his jawline, kiss his eyelids awake, but he looked so tired from everything—the wedding, the constant business trips, and all the chaos he carried quietly on his shoulders. So instead, I carefully peeled myself away, placing a kiss on his hand before sliding out of bed. As I made my way downsta

LIAM'S POINT OF VIEW The room had grown quiet. The kind of quiet that carries its own weight — not heavy, not empty, just… soft. Seirra’s head rested against my chest, her breaths slow and steady, her lashes fanning delicately against her cheeks. She had dozed off mid-sentence, somewhere between telling me about how her mum had insisted she learn to bake bread at twelve and teasing me for never having folded laundry properly in my life. Now, here she was, the woman who had stormed through every wall I built around myself, curled against me like I was the only place she wanted to be. And God, I loved her for it. I didn’t move. I didn’t even dare shift. I just stared at her — at the gentle way her lips parted when she sighed, at how her hair spilled over my arm, at the way her presence filled every corner of my world without even trying. If someone had told me months ago that this woman — Seirra Morgan —

SEIRRA'S POINT OF VIEW The weeks leading up to the wedding were a blur of lace, flowers, and whispered promises. I had spent countless afternoons slipping into gowns, staring at my reflection in long mirrors, trying to see the woman I was becoming. Not just someone’s bride, but a woman who chose peace over chaos, love over noise, and Liam over every shadow of my past. And then the day came. It wasn’t a spectacle. It wasn’t grand or flashy. It was everything I wanted: small, private, and drenched in love. Claire fussed over me as she zipped me into the gown. The silk hugged my figure like it was made for me, and when I glanced in the mirror, I almost didn’t recognize myself. My eyes glowed, my lips curved into a smile that wasn’t forced for once—it was genuine, soft, like sunlight breaking through after a long storm. “You look… stunning,” Claire whispered, her eyes glistening. I

SEIRRA'S POINT OF VIEW The day after Liam proposed still felt like a dream. Every time I caught sight of the ring glinting on my finger, my heart would race and a goofy smile would pull at my lips. I hadn’t even told Becca yet. She deserved to know first—after all, she had been the very reason my life had taken this turn. So, when the doorbell rang that morning and I opened it to see her standing there with her usual bright grin and a bag of croissants in her hand, my heart leapt. “Good morning, sunshine!” Becca chirped, walking in as though she owned the place. “Don’t tell me you haven’t eaten yet.” I laughed, closing the door behind her. “Not yet. But I’m glad you’re here.” We settled on the couch, the croissants between us, coffee steaming on the table. Becca’s eyes, always sharp and curious, scanned my face. “You look… different. Happier. Like something big happene

Lena's POV Morning came slowly, the rain from the night before replaced by soft sunlight pushing through the curtains. I woke up to the quiet sound of birds outside the window and the faint smell of coffee drifting through the house. For a moment, I just lay there, staring at the ceiling, letting the calm morning trick me into believing life was simple again. Then everything came rushing back. Lucian. Xander. The baby. The lies. The running away. I sighed and sat up carefully, remembering the bandage wrapped around my foot. Harry had done a neat job. The pain was dull now, just a faint reminder of last night. Harry. The thought made me glance toward the door. The house was quiet. Too quiet. He must have left already. For some reason, I felt a strange mix of relief and disappointment. I pushed the thought aside and stood up, carefully testing my foot before walking toward the bathroom. By the time I came downstairs, Jane was already sitting at the kitchen table, eating

Lena's POV The night was heavy with rain, each drop tapping insistently against the roof, a rhythmic reminder of the storm outside. The kind of rain that made the world feel smaller, more intimate, and somehow heavier with secrets. I had been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind a tangled mess of thoughts. Everything—the past weeks, Lucian, the baby, the distance from Xander, Jane’s healing, my own fears—was swirling in a storm of its own, almost louder than the rain outside. Mom had gone to the door earlier, her voice calm but firm, and let someone in. I hadn’t seen him enter, hadn’t even heard his footsteps at first, only the faint sound of dripping water and the rustle of his coat as he shook off the rain. Mom had offered him the spare room. A stranger. The thought made my stomach twist, but it was Mom. She never made rash decisions, and she’d clearly sized him up before letting him stay. It was late when I finally got up. The house was quiet, everyone asleep, and I wa

Lena's POV The beach was quiet that morning. Florida mornings always had a soft calm to them, like the world was still waking up slowly. The sky was painted in pale shades of pink and orange, and the ocean stretched endlessly in front of us, waves rolling in with a gentle rhythm. Jane walked beside me barefoot, her sandals dangling from her fingers. Neither of us spoke at first. The sand was cool under our feet, and the air smelled like salt and sunlight. I glanced at her from the corner of my eye. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, and she wore one of my oversized sweaters. The wind tugged lightly at it, making it flutter around her legs. She still looked tired. Not the kind of tired sleep fixes. The kind heartbreak leaves behind. “Do you remember,” she said suddenly, kicking a small shell along the sand, “when we we

Xander's POV The hospital hallway smelled faintly of antiseptic and coffee. I leaned against the wall outside the consultation room, arms folded, watching the nurses move back and forth with quiet efficiency. The place was calm, almost peaceful, but my mind was anything but. Laney sat a few seats away from me, scrolling through her phone like she didn’t have a care in the world. She looked calm. Too calm. Which only made everything feel more complicated. The doctor had just finished explaining the prenatal checkup schedule and nutritional requirements. Standard things. Vitamins, monitoring, regular visits. I had already arranged for the best care possible. Private appointments, a personal physician, anything she needed. Not because I trusted the situation. But because if that child turned out to be mine, I wouldn’t allow negligence to

Lucian's POV The office felt unusually quiet that afternoon. Not the peaceful kind of quiet. The heavy kind. The kind that made you aware of every little sound. The ticking of the clock. The distant hum of printers. The faint clicking of keyboards outside my glass walls. Kristen was somewhere in the outer office finishing paperwork. I could hear the occasional shuffle of files and the soft ring of the office phone. I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. My thoughts drifted where they had been drifting all morning. Lena. She was probably at home right now. I pictured her sitting on the couch, one hand resting on her stomach, her brows slightly furrowed the way they always were when she worried. She was probably wondering why I hadn’t called. Why the headlines suddenly said I had a new girlfriend. Petra. I sighed and rubbed my face slowly. Once everything calms down, I’ll tell her. That was the plan. Once the scandal cooled off, once the media lost intere

Lena's POV I slouched into the airport chair, my bag at my feet and a quiet hum of announcements echoing around me. Jane was beside me, tapping her fingers on her knee, staring at the floor with that same haunted look she’d been wearing since the Marcus mess.“You okay?” I asked softly.She didn’t look up at first, but then her eyes met mine, glossy and tired. “I’ll be fine,” she whispered. “Just… tired. Tired of everything.”I nodded, understanding all too well. I had my own storm brewing inside, but I couldn’t burden her with it. Not now. Not while we were supposed to be escaping all the chaos for a little while.“So… Florida,” I said, trying to bring some light into the silence. “Home, finally.”Jane’s lips quirked into the smallest smile. “Yeah. Mom’s gonna freak seeing me leave like this. But I need it.”I shifted in my seat, tugging my jacket closer around me. “Me too. I just… need a break from everything. From the company, from the headlines… from Lucian…” My chest tightened a