Novels by Iyame

The city was a constellation of lights beneath us, blinking and breathing through the night fog. I’d lost count of how many hours I’d been holed up in Kyl’s office or rather my new office, technically drafting what was supposed to be the first few chapters of his ghostwritten memoir. But nothing about this project felt ghostly. If anything, it felt too real.I stared at the open document glowing from my MacBook, fingertips hovering just above the keys. My wine sat untouched next to me, condensation sliding slowly down the glass like sweat along a spine. Every word I’d typed felt like a confession I wasn’t ready to make. My own, or his. It was starting to blur.Kyl’s voice broke the silence altering my thought, low and husky, like velvet sliding over steel. “You’re still working?”I jumped slightly. I hadn’t even heard the elevator. “Didn’t realize how late it got,” I muttered, pulling the silk shawl tighter over my shoulders. “I got…lost in it.”He crossed the room with deliberate eas

I always imagined writing his memoir would be professional, clean, distant, entitled. But nothing about today was distant. It felt logically wrong but my heart urged me on.By the time I arrived at his office that morning, everything already felt charged. His executive suite gleamed in the sunlight, but the privacy glass hid the glare it was only gray seen from the outside but crystal clear once you step inside. I walked past it slowly, aware I could be watched without seeing who was looking.My corner desk faced the skyline, the city crawling below while I stared at a blank screen. A custom MacBook glowed softly, mine to command—but every click echoed in the quiet. I sensed him before I heard him, the sound of tailored trousers stepping into the suite behind me.Kyl leaned against the doorframe with effortless dominance. He held two coffees in crisp white mugs, steam curling into the air between us. He always knew the right moment to appear, it made me uneasy and I squirmed.I turned

The elevator dropped me off at the fifteenth floor of Rokyl Enterprises, and I swallowed hard as I stepped into the sleek reception lobby. Polished marble floors stretched to a glass wall, beyond which the city scrolled beneath a bleeding sunset. I smoothed my skirt for the third time. My fingers trembled not from fear exactly, but the pressure to measure up in his world.A quiet knock at a black glass door appeared in my peripheral vision. Professional meeting, he said. Under the guise of business.I squared my shoulders and walked in.The office felt both larger and smaller than I’d remembered. Floor-to-ceiling windows spanned the north wall. A dark marble desk sat perfectly centered, and behind it, Kyl stood, gazing at the skyline with arms crossed. He turned slowly, suit impeccable. No tie. Just dark silk shirt, slightly unfastened. That one undone button felt charged with intention.He gestured to the seat across from him. “Please.”On the desk sat two crystal wine glasses and a

I should have left the doorman’s knock, but something made me open the door when he stood there holding a stack of boxes nearly as tall as me. Each one was pristine, wrapped in velvety black paper, tied with silken ribbon. My name, Ivana Prute was written in gold on each label. I closed the door in a breath, heart racing, and carried them inside like fragile verdicts. I already knew who they were from.How my life had drastically changed from a miserable broke virgin to a billionaire mistress receiving designer gifts is what I still couldn't come to terms with.In my bedroom which was heavily cramped, humming with the soft glow of a single lamp, the boxes lay like accusations or offers. The smallest was a jewelry box, faint swirl of golden filigree and an engraved card. The next was sleek and sizable. The third was old-fashioned and thick, like a secret. My lips parted slightly; I felt dizzy.I sat cross-legged amidst them. I untied the first ribbon with shaking fingers. Inside, a nec

I woke up still wrapped in his sheets.They smelled like him. Like smoke and cedar, and something darker underneath, something that made my belly tighten. The sun slanted in through the tall windows of Kyl's penthouse, painting soft gold across his sharp edged furniture. For a moment, I just lay there, listening to the faint hum of the city far below us.I wasn’t panicking.I wasn’t rushing to gather my clothes, or looking for my shoes under the bed. My body ached in all the right ways, a tender hum of sore muscles and leftover pleasure. But I didn’t feel used.I felt…Warm. Full. Confused.Kyl’s side of the bed was empty, the sheets still warm.Somewhere in the distance, I heard a low curse. A loud thump. Something hit the counter.I slid out of bed, pulling his shirt around my body. It hung off my shoulders like a dress, swallowing my curves, but the scent of him clung to the collar. I padded into the kitchen, barefoot, the marble floor cool against my toes.Kyl stood by the stove,

I stood at the threshold of Kyl’s penthouse door, the final click of the elevator sounding like a verdict. I took a deep breath before I knocked on the door, although the door was half open. Candlelight flickered from inside, casting long shadows through the cracks. My heart throbbed, no longer just from nerves, but from an anticipation I couldn’t name.I couldn't believe I was doing this, selling myself to actualize my dream.When the door opened, he stood framed by warm light. His dark suit looked imperfect now, sleek yet undone. A white button left unfastened at the neck, his gaze was deep, dangerous, intimate. He flicked his hand toward the inside, and every star in the night paled in comparison.I walked in, hips swaying against the silk of my red dress, the floor catching the light beneath my heels. The scent of jasmine, wood, and faint bourbon drifted from the living room. Music played quietly, the hum of conversation echoing as if from another world. None of that mattered.He