Novelas de Kosi Antonia

The morning light filtered softly through the hospital blinds, casting gentle stripes across the sterile white walls of the ICU room. The machines continued their steady rhythm—beep, hiss, beep, a mechanical lullaby that had become the soundtrack of Lord Blackwood's existence for the past several days.Mrs. Blackwood sat in her usual chair beside the bed, a cup of lukewarm tea clutched in her hands. She'd been there since five in the morning, unable to sleep at home, drawn back to her husband's side by an invisible thread of hope and fear.She stared at his face, memorizing every line, every shadow. His breathing was so shallow that sometimes she had to lean close just to confirm he was still alive."Please," she whispered for the thousandth time. "Please wake up. Please come back to me."As if responding to her plea, Lord Blackwood's fingers twitched.Mrs. Blackwood's breath caught. She leaned forward, setting down her tea so quickly it sloshed over the rim."Darling?" Her voice was

The night was quiet in Serena's bedroom. The only sound came from the soft ticking of the clock on the wall and the occasional rustle of fabric as she moved around the room.The curtains were drawn, blocking out the glow of the city lights. A single lamp on her nightstand cast a warm but eerie glow across the space. On her bed lay several items, carefully selected and arranged like tools for a surgeon preparing for an operation.Serena stood before her full-length mirror, studying her reflection with cold, calculating eyes. She wore all black—a fitted turtleneck, slim pants, and flat shoes. Nothing flashy. Nothing memorable. The kind of outfit that would blend into shadows, that cameras would struggle to capture clearly.Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. No jewelry. No makeup. She looked nothing like the glamorous society wife she usually presented to the world.She looked like someone preparing for war.Satisfied with her appearance, Serena turned to her bed and picked

The afternoon sun cast long shadows through the windows of the Harrington mansion study. The barrister sat slumped in his leather chair, staring blankly at the wall across from him. Dark circles hung beneath his eyes like bruises. His shirt was wrinkled, his tie loosened and hanging askew around his neck.He hadn't slept properly in days.Every creak of the house made him jump. Every car that passed on the street made his heart race. Every phone notification sent a spike of fear through his chest.But nothing had come.No messages. No calls. No more photographs.Three days of silence.Maybe—just maybe, Serena had given up. Maybe she'd moved on to some other scheme. Maybe the photographs had just been a warning, and now that he'd been sufficiently terrified, she was satisfied.He wanted to believe that.God, how badly he wanted to believe that.The barrister rubbed his face with both hands, feeling the rough stubble that had grown from days of not shaving. He looked at the desk in fron

The morning arrived with a vengeance. Lira's eyes snapped open as her stomach churned violently. The nausea hit her like a wave, sudden and overwhelming. She threw off the covers and bolted toward the bathroom, her hand pressed against her mouth.She barely made it to the toilet before her stomach emptied itself. The retching was violent, her body shaking with each wave. Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes from the force of it.Behind her, she heard movement. Damian appeared in the doorway within seconds, his hair disheveled from sleep, concern etched across his face."Lira," he said softly, kneeling beside her.She couldn't respond. Another wave hit her.Damian gathered her hair gently in his hands, holding it back from her face. His other hand rubbed small circles on her back, offering what comfort he could."I've got you," he murmured. "Just breathe. It's going to pass."When the nausea finally subsided, Lira slumped against the cool bathroom tile, exhausted. Her whole body f

The morning sun broke through the clouds, casting pale light across the hospital room. Mrs. Blackwood sat in the chair beside her husband's bed, her fingers wrapped around his hand. She had spent another night in the hospital, refusing to go home despite the nurses' gentle insistence.Her eyes were fixed on his face, watching for any sign of movement. Any flicker of consciousness.Lord Blackwood remained still. The machines continued their steady rhythm. Beep. Hiss. Beep.A soft knock came at the door.Mrs. Blackwood looked up to see a young woman in a crisp business suit standing in the doorway. She recognized her as Rebecca, her husband's personal assistant."Mrs. Blackwood," Rebecca said softly, bowing her head respectfully. "I'm sorry to disturb you.""It's alright, Rebecca. Come in."The assistant stepped inside, clutching a leather portfolio against her chest. Her expression was uncertain, as if she wasn't sure she should be there."I wouldn't have come, but there's something th

The evening had settled over the city by the time Harold's car pulled into the driveway of his mansion. The sun had disappeared behind the buildings, leaving behind streaks of orange and purple across the sky. He killed the engine and sat for a moment, his hands still gripping the steering wheel. The hospital visit had left him unsettled. His father's pale face. The machines keeping him alive. The way Damian had looked at him suspiciously and calculating, as if Harold were guilty of something. And maybe he was. Not of poisoning. He hadn't done that. But of wanting his father's position. Of resenting Damian's success. Of feeling like a failure in comparison. Harold stepped out of the car and walked toward the entrance. The bodyguards stationed at the door bowed slightly as he passed. He barely acknowledged them. Inside, the mansion was quiet. The usual sounds of Max playing or Serena moving through the house were absent. Only the soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant t

Aria’s POV:The rooftop terrace was a sanctuary of shadows, the city’s hum a distant roar below. The note from last night “You can’t hide forever” still burned in my mind, its words twisting with Mom’s face, her smile fading in that car accident I could never forget. Dad’s secrets, his control, it all pressed down, fueling the fire in my chest. I hobbled out here, my ankle throbbing but my defiance roaring louder, craving something, anything—to make me feel alive again. The hotel’s pool glinted under the moon, its water still and inviting, a promise of escape.Damien and Kade had followed me, their faces etched with worry after the flickering lights and that damn note. They’d checked the terrace, their protectiveness was a wall I both resented and craved. Damien’s gray eyes scanned the edges, his jaw tight, while Kade leaned against the railing, his tattoos dark in the low light, his hazel gaze on me like he knew I was about to break.“I’m swimming,” I said, my voice steady despite t

Aria’s POV:The hotel suite felt like a glass cage, the city lights mocking me through the floor-to-ceiling windows. My ankles still ached, but just a little. I guess it's healing now. I sat on the white leather couch, my fingers tracing the edge of a photo I’d found in my purse, it was a faded snapshot of Mom, her smile was warm, her eyes shined bright like mine. Elena Sinclair.She had been gone seven years ago, taken by a car accident I still didn’t understand. The memory hit me like a blade. I still remember the headlights, her scream, the hospital’s sterile chill, and the way I had cried that day. The day I lost my soul.I was fifteen, I was too young to lose her, and too angry to forgive Dad for shutting down after, his silence was louder than any explanation. I blamed him, not for the crash, maybe—but for the secrets, the way he buried her memory under his empire’s shadow.And the way he acted like none of it mattered. Like she was just a dream.Nate’s face from yesterday

Damien’s POV:She was going to be the death of me. Aria Sinclair was a blade, sharp and reckless, cutting through every wall I’d built. Her tearful apology last night, her trembling voice as she leaned into us, had cracked something in me I couldn’t repair. My duty to Alexander, watch her, report her moves, stay detached, was slipping, replaced by the memory of carrying her, her warmth against my chest, her green eyes raw with fear. Now, in the hotel suite’s sterile glow, the city lights bleeding through the windows, I watched her, restless on the couch, her sprained ankle propped like a taunt to her defiance. She was supposed to be resting, but Aria didn’t rest.I caught the creak of her door, my gut twisting as I moved to the hallway. She was slipping toward the elevator, her purse slung over her shoulder, hobbling on that damn ankle. Her black dress was gone, swapped for jeans and a hoodie, but she still looked like trouble, her eyes burning with that stubborn fire.“Aria,” I sa

Aria’s POV: The alley outside Vibe was a blur of shadows and city noise. My ankle was still pains, a sharp, insistent pain that had started as a twinge during the chaos of the kidnapping attempt but now felt more painful with every step. “We need to move,” Damien said, his voice was clipped, as he scanned the alley. “This place isn’t safe.” I tried to step forward, defiant as always, but my ankle twisted, I gasped as I grabbed the wall. Kade’s hand shot out, steadying my elbow. “Easy, princess. You’re not walking on that.” “I’m fine,” I snapped, but my voice trembled, the adrenaline from the attack crashing hard. The truth was, I wasn’t fine. I’d run from the safe house, kissed a stranger to drown out Ethan’s betrayal, and nearly gotten myself taken. And they’d saved me, Damien and Kade, the men I’d called my jailers, had torn through those thugs like they were nothing, risking themselves for me. Damien’s jaw tightened, and he gestured toward a black car parked nearby. “We’r

Aria’s POV: The safe house was a cage, and I was done being its prisoner. Nate’s voice from last night, “Nobody cages you”, looped in my head, it was like a siren call to freedom. I clutched the key fob I’d swiped from the garage, my heart was hammering as I waited in my room. The delivery van was due at dawn, it was the perfect distraction I’d overheard Kade mention. That was my shot. I slipped into a tight black dress, traded my sneakers for heels, and checked the camera blind spot by the garage one last time in my mind. It was reckless, stupid even, but I needed to feel alive again, to drown out Ethan’s betrayal and the memory of Damien and Kade’s shirtless bodies burning through me. The van’s rumble echoed outside, and I moved very silently and fast, slipping through the safe house’s halls. The garage smelled of oil and metal, and I held my breath as I slid into my car, the engine purring to life. The city’s neon lights called me, Vibe’s pulse was a promising escape. I shov

Aria’s POV:The safe house was suffocating me. I paced my room, the memory of Damien and Kade’s shirtless bodies still burning behind my eyes, their sweat-slick muscles and heated stares making my skin flush all over again. My phone buzzed, and I grabbed it, half-expecting another pathetic plea from Ethan. Instead, it was Nate, my best friend, the one person who’d always been my lifeline to the real world. "Call me, girl. Need to hear your voice". A smile tugged at my lips, the first real one in days. Nate and his endless gossip, his stupid jokes, he was the normal I craved. I hit call, sinking onto the bed.“Aria, you alive out there?” Nate’s voice was warm and teasing, like a shot of whiskey on a bad day. “Thought your dad’s goon squad might’ve locked you in a dungeon by now.”I laughed, the sound came out shaky but real. “Close enough. I’m in some high-tech fortress, Nate. It’s like living in a sci-fi movie, except the robots are hot and annoying.”“Hot, huh?” His grin was prac