Novels by Ammiee

‎The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime.‎‎For a moment, I didn’t move.‎‎Everything from the last hour replayed inside my head in fragments—camera flashes, whispers in the ballroom, Malia’s stunned expression, Jayden’s voice cutting through the room like a blade.‎‎The humiliation.‎‎The applause.‎‎The way he had pulled me onto the stage as if it had always been my place.‎‎My heels suddenly felt too heavy.‎‎My chest felt too tight.‎‎Jayden stepped out of the elevator first, then turned slightly when he realized I hadn’t followed.‎‎“You’re overthinking,” he said.‎‎I blinked.‎‎“I’m not overthinking.”‎‎His eyebrow lifted faintly.‎‎“You’re standing in an elevator that already opened.”‎‎That made me step forward.‎‎The doors closed behind us with a quiet slide.‎‎The penthouse hallway felt almost unnaturally quiet after the chaos of the gala.‎‎I exhaled slowly as we walked.‎‎“You just humiliated my sister in front of half the business world.”‎‎Jayde

‎For a moment after the door opened, Melissa couldn’t move.‎‎The hallway outside the preparation suite buzzed with distant noise from the ballroom—music, conversation, the low thunder of hundreds of voices layered together.‎‎But inside the doorway, everything felt still.‎‎Jayden stood there, tall and unmoving, his hand still extended toward her.‎‎“Come with me,” he had said.‎‎And somehow those three words carried the weight of a decision she hadn’t been prepared to make.‎‎Melissa swallowed.‎‎“Jayden… what’s happening out there?”‎‎His gaze flickered briefly over her face, searching.‎‎Then he said quietly, “A correction.”‎‎That didn’t explain anything.‎‎But the look in his eyes told her this wasn’t a moment she could hide from.‎‎She placed her hand in his.‎‎His fingers closed around hers immediately—warm, firm, grounding.‎‎Then he turned and began walking down the hallway.‎‎Melissa had no choice but to follow.‎‎The music grew louder as they approached the

The applause rolled across the ballroom like a slow wave.Mr. Roberts stood at the podium beneath the crystal chandeliers, the weight of a thousand eyes fixed on him. The light from the stage lamps sharpened every line of his expression, turning him into something almost untouchable—composed, commanding, impossible to read.Behind him, the company’s anniversary banner stretched across the stage, gold lettering glittering under the lights.To his right stood Malia.Emerald silk draped elegantly over her figure, the gown shimmering whenever a camera flashed. Her posture was flawless. Her smile was steady.From a distance, it looked perfect.Exactly the kind of image the press loved—powerful CEO and elegant companion standing side by side at the company’s most important event of the year.But perfection was an illusion.And illusions never lasted long around Jayden Roberts.He adjusted the microphone slightly, the small sound echoing through the silent ballroom.“Good evening.”His voice

‎The morning of the gala arrived wrapped in unnatural calm.‎‎Sunlight spilled across the penthouse in soft golden sheets, illuminating polished floors and quiet anticipation. It felt like the world had paused, holding its breath for something important.‎‎Today was important.‎‎Today, I would stand beside Mr. Roberts in front of the world.‎‎Stylists arrived at nine sharp. Garment bags were unzipped. Makeup cases opened. Curling irons warmed. The air filled with hairspray and muted instructions.‎‎Malia moved through it all like she belonged there.‎‎She adjusted lighting angles for the makeup artist. She handed over jewelry options. She even corrected the stylist on the fall of the gown’s hem.‎‎“You’re glowing,” she told me as foundation was blended carefully along my jawline.‎‎“I’m nervous,” I admitted.‎‎“You shouldn’t be.” She smiled warmly. “Today is yours.”‎‎Her tone was so sincere that guilt flickered through me for ever doubting her.‎‎Maybe I had overanalyzed e

The emerald gown no longer felt like certainty.‎‎It hung in the walk-in closet beneath soft lighting, its rich fabric catching the glow like it owned the room. Two days ago, it had represented strength. Poise. Readiness.‎‎Now, it felt like a question.‎‎“Are you sure about that color?”‎‎Malia’s voice drifted in from behind me.‎‎I turned slightly. She stood at the doorway of the closet, arms folded lightly, her expression thoughtful—not critical. Just… evaluating.‎‎“It’s elegant,” I replied.‎‎“It is.” She stepped closer, fingertips brushing the fabric with familiarity that made something tighten in my chest. “But elegant can disappear under heavy flash photography.”‎‎I frowned. “Disappear?”‎‎“Cameras wash out depth. You need contrast. Something sharper. More commanding.”‎‎I hadn’t thought about that.‎‎And now that she said it, doubt crept in.‎‎“I thought emerald was strong,” I murmured.‎‎“It’s beautiful,” she said gently. “But beautiful isn’t the same as unforg

‎The ballroom was empty, but it already felt like it was watching us.‎‎Crystal chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceiling, unlit but imposing. Rows of round tables were arranged in precise symmetry, draped in ivory linen. At the far end, a raised stage overlooked the room, flanked by a massive LED screen that currently displayed nothing but a test grid.‎‎It was quiet.‎‎But not peaceful.‎‎This kind of quiet carried anticipation.‎‎“This is where you’ll arrive,” the event coordinator said, heels clicking as she walked backward in front of us. “The press wall will be set up along this side. Mr. Roberts, you’ll pause here for photos before entering the ballroom.”‎‎She pointed to a subtle gold marker taped onto the marble floor near the entrance.‎‎Jayden nodded once. “Timing?”‎‎“Seven forty-five sharp.”‎‎I stood beside him, taking it all in.‎‎In two weeks, this space would be filled with executives, investors, flashing cameras, calculated smiles.‎‎And me.‎‎Malia walke