Novels by MAYREE

ALESSANDREI just wanted coffee.That was it. A cup of coffee and maybe one of those warm almond croissants they always kept behind the glass. I hadn’t slept throughout the night and now, my head was a tumble of confused thoughts and a hangover still lingered at the fringes of my brain. Something about last night just kept nagging at me—the look on her face while she was in my arms.Ophelia Wren hated me and that was a fact.Her hatred was justified. Yet, I wished she didn’t hate me.I stepped out onto the sidewalk, buttoning my coat up against the wind as I headed to the corner café that I used to frequent back when I had a driver, a PA, and less shame. Life was simpler then. Or maybe I was just clueless to my surroundings.The scent of roasted espresso wafted to my nose before I even saw the café and I let out a breath of relief. One small ritual, one moment of normalcy—"OH. MY. GOD."I blinked."Is that—? It's him, right?!"Suddenly, a cacophony of high-pitched voices descended up

OPHELIAI said nothing on the ride home.Charlotte rode alongside me in the back of the car, her fingers moving rapidly over the screen of her phone, swearing softly to herself in her PR lingo. The tension between us was oppressive, but I needed it. I needed the silence to keep myself from coming apart, and blowing up across the soft leather seat of the car.When we reached my penthouse, I didn't even allow the driver to step out to open the door. I opened the door and ran out, my heels ringing too loudly on the pavement, and stormed into the building.The moment the front door closed behind me, I turned around to face Charlotte."Tell me everything,” I started. “How bad is it?"Charlotte blinked at me. "You sure you want the full version?" she asked."I'm not in the mood for half-truths, Char,” I said. “Just talk. How bad is it?"She sighed and followed me into the living room, dumping her bag on the couch. "Okay. The media thinks you two are back together as we said before,” she beg

OPHELIABy morning, the tabloids were on fire and the moment I opened my phone, I was greeted by headlines screaming in all caps:"ICE QUEEN MELTS IN HER EX'S ARMS—STUNNING FALL OR STAGED REUNION?""THE PHOENIX & THE FALLEN KING: IS LOVE BACK ON THE TABLE?""FROM SCANDAL TO SIZZLE? BILLIONAIRE ALESSANDRE MARCELLO RE-ENTERS OPHELIA WREN'S WORLD."I scrolled clip after clip on social media and I saw the moment I tripped on the stairs, the frozen second when I crashed into him, the way in which his arms encircled my waist as if we were still something. Over and over it played. It was sickening.One feed even went as far as pairing it with a tacky love song in the background. Another one slowed it down and titled it: "When fate steps in."“Eww,” I muttered, putting the phone at a distance away from me.I nearly threw my phone at the mirror."Charlotte!" I shouted, already pacing the length of my living room.She burst in a moment later, her hair disheveled, phone buzzing in one hand, and

ALESSANDREThe world had a tendency to remind you of the things you'd lost especially when it stood before you hung with gold and grace. I stood in the ballroom doorway, my knuckles tight around the rim of an unopened glass of champagne. How did I get it? You might wonder. Well, a man with a drinking problem always finds a way.My eyes were on her, Ophelia as she moved through the room as though she'd been born to rule, but every beat in the room waited for her approval.God.She was a queen and she used to be my queen."She hasn't even looked your direction again," Matteo said from beside me. "Not even a little."“I wouldn't if I were her," I said, trying to sound like her ignoring me didn’t faze me at all. I failed totally at that obviously.Matteo chuckled. "And that’s a fact,” he said. “But man, you'd think you murdered her dog, not bruised her heart.”I glared at him, and he threw up his hands in mock contrition."Okay, okay. Shouldn’t have said that. But still, are you going to

OPHELIAI ignored the stares from the guests and scanned the room for Charlotte. She was really going to explain to me why he was here.I didn’t need to walk far. She was standing at a table, chatting with one of the guests. I slipped on a fake smile and approached.“Good evening, gentlemen,” I said smoothly. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to borrow her for a quick moment.”They smiled and nodded, and with that, I grabbed Charlotte gently by the arm and pulled her away. Once we were far enough from prying eyes and ears, my smile dropped, and a cold look took over my features.“How did he get into this place?” I hissed.“I—I don’t know, Ophelia,” she stammered. “I swear, I’ll get to the bottom of it. I have no idea how he got past security or even an invitation. I’m so sorry.”Charlotte was visibly shaken, fidgeting with her clutch. My anger dulled, just a little.I sighed. “Just find out who let him in as well as who he came with,” I muttered. “We can’t have uninvited guests walking in

ALESSANDREA FEW HOURS EARLIER…I took another swig from the whiskey bottle on my coffee table. The table was littered with unopened bills and legal documents I couldn’t bring myself to look at. With a sigh, I slammed the bottle down on top of one of the envelopes. My head hung low, shame tightening its noose around my neck as I tried my best not to remember everything I’d lost—everything I’d ruined.Tried not to remember her.Another swig.My eyes swept across the dingy apartment I’d been holed up in for the past few days. I hadn’t much of a choice. Being broke and knee-deep in debt would do that to you.The wallpaper had begun to peel, and no matter how hard I’d scrubbed the first week I moved in, the musty stench refused to leave. It had become part of the place like the silence and regret that was deeply embedded in me. I took a deep breath, and once again, my mind betrayed me by drifting back to her. Ophelia Wren. The only woman who had ever truly owned me, before I tore her