Novels by Aleeberry

The sun rose quietly over the city, washing the skyline in a soft, golden hue — the kind of morning that should’ve felt peaceful.But peace was the one thing Sophia Bennett didn’t have anymore.Her phone had been ringing since 6 a.m.Missed calls. Messages. Mentions. Notifications stacking up like dominoes waiting to fall.She sat on the edge of her bed, hair unbrushed, still wearing yesterday’s silk blouse. The television on the wall played a muted morning show — her interview replaying on loop. The headline running beneath it made her stomach twist.“Tech CEO’s Emotional Confession Goes Viral.”They were dissecting her every word — the tremor in her voice, the half-smile when she’d said someone had changed the way she saw the world.Sophia pressed her palms against her face, exhaling hard. The walls of her penthouse felt smaller than usual. Her world — the one she’d built on precision and control — was starting to crack.

The city was already awake when Sophia stepped out of the car — too awake.Flashes blinded her before her heels even touched the pavement. Reporters swarmed like hungry birds, their questions sharp, their voices merging into a single roar that made her pulse race.“Ms. Bennett! Is it true you and Alex Rivera are romantically involved?”“Did the museum board suspend you?”“Was last night a confession?”She kept her face still — unreadable, untouchable — even as her throat tightened. Her manager’s hand pressed against her back, steering her through the chaos, but Sophia could feel the words sticking to her skin, burning.Inside the building, silence hit like a wave.She leaned against the wall of the lobby, inhaling deeply, the scent of rain and fresh paint mixing with the metallic tang of nerves.She thought of Alex. Of the way his voice had steadied her last night.And of how it might all fall apart today.Alex stood by the

By noon, the studio no longer felt like sanctuary.It was too bright, too honest.The light poured through the tall windows, revealing everything — the scattered brushes, the half-finished mural, the trail of discarded paint-streaked cloth from the night before. Sophia stood barefoot by the easel, her hair tied up loosely, wearing one of Alex’s shirts that hung too big on her frame.Alex watched her from the doorway, coffee in hand, looking more uncertain than she’d ever seen him.Neither had said much since waking.Every silence between them felt alive — not uncomfortable but loaded. They were standing on the other side of something they couldn’t name yet. A threshold that couldn’t be crossed back.Sophia picked up a brush and dipped it in white paint, dragging a slow stroke across the canvas. Her movements were automatic — like she was painting to stop herself from thinking.Alex stepped closer. “You don’t have to work right now,” he said gently.She didn’t look up. “If I don’t, I’l

The world felt fragile the next morning — like something sacred had been spoken into existence, and now the air dared not move too loudly.Sophia woke before dawn. The light hadn’t yet found its way through the blinds, but she could hear the faint hum of the city below. Beside her, Alex was still asleep, one arm resting loosely across her waist, his breathing deep and steady.For a moment, she simply looked at him. The sharp edges of who he was — the guarded artist, the man who never said too much — were softened in sleep. He looked almost young, unburdened. And in that stillness, something inside her ached.Because she knew.Truth didn’t fix everything. It only revealed what you could no longer ignore.She slipped out of bed quietly, the floor cool beneath her bare feet. She gathered her clothes, her hairbrush, the scattered fragments of the night, and moved to the kitchen. The smell of paint still lingered faintly on his hands — she’d n

The room seemed to shrink around them, the air thick with something that felt fragile and inevitable all at once. Neither of them spoke; words would have felt clumsy, too small for what their bodies already knew.Alex’s fingers traced the delicate strap on her shoulder, sliding it down with a reverence that made Sophia’s breath catch. It wasn’t lust alone that burned in his eyes—it was devotion, a quiet kind of wonder.He pressed another kiss to the skin he’d uncovered, then let his hand wander lower, easing the fabric further until it fell away completely. Sophia’s cheeks flushed, but not from shame; it was the weight of being seen, truly seen. No mask of CEO composure, no armour of ambition—just Sophia, vulnerable and unguarded.Her hands explored him in turn, skimming over the hard lines of his chest, the warmth of his skin. She felt the subtle tremor beneath his steadiness, and it broke something open in her—he wasn’t untouchable, not at all. He w

The first thing Sophia noticed was the light.It crept through the curtains in thin, golden threads, spilling across the floor, reaching for the tangled sheets where she lay. Her eyes blinked open slowly, her body aching in ways that were both unfamiliar and unforgettable. For a brief, fleeting second, she forgot where she was.Then she shifted, and the warmth of Alex at her side anchored her to the truth.He was still asleep, one arm draped loosely across her waist, his breathing steady, his face softened in a way she had never seen while he was awake. In sleep, he looked younger, unburdened, almost vulnerable.Sophia’s chest tightened at the sight.The night before replayed in flashes—the heat of his mouth, the weight of his body against hers, the way he had whispered her name like it was the only word he knew. A shiver ran through her, equal parts memory and fear.She should have felt regret. She should have felt panic at

The forest breathed around them, alive in a way that was both beautiful and dangerous. Mist curled like living tendrils across the forest floor, snaking around gnarled roots and jagged rocks, obscuring vision and hiding threats. Adrian moved forward at the front of the small, battle-worn group, his sword gripped tightly. Every muscle in his body was coiled, his eyes scanning the shadow-draped terrain. Each breath was measured, each heartbeat a drum counting down the inevitability of confrontation. Behind him, Elena moved with equal precision. Her bow was taut, an arrow nocked and trembling slightly in anticipation. Her eyes were sharp, unwavering, reflecting a determination that had carried her through countless trials. Marcus followed closely, knives glinting, muscles coiled like springs, ready to strike with lethal precision. The ally flanked their left, moving silently, a phantom whose presence could not be sensed until the moment they a

Chapter Thirty-Four – The Breaking Point The forest lay cloaked in mist, pale light struggling through the dense canopy, transforming familiar terrain into an unpredictable labyrinth. Adrian moved at the forefront, sword gripped tightly, senses taut, each breath measured. The Commander’s presence pressed against his mind, her whispers threading through every thought: You can not protect her. She will belong to me. Every failure is yours. He forced the thoughts aside. Survival demanded focus. Elena moved beside him, bowed at the ready, eyes scanning every shadow, fingers twitching on the string. Marcus followed close behind, knives at the ready, muscles coiled and vigilant. The ally flanked the left, a ghost among the mist, moving silently and anticipating danger before it manifested. Adrian’s mind raced. Every step matters. Every hesitation is fatal. He stole a glance at Elena. Determination burned in her eyes, unwavering, a silent promis

Chapter Thirty-Three – Edge of Ruin The forest was silent in the predawn gloom, a deceptive stillness that pressed against their nerves like a living thing. Mist coiled around ancient roots, curling around jagged rocks and damp earth. Adrian moved at the front, sword in hand, every muscle taut, senses honed to the edge of human perception. Behind him, Elena clutched her bow, arrow notched and ready, eyes scanning for the faintest movement. Marcus followed, knives gleaming in the gray light, ready for any strike. The ally, ghostlike, flanked their left, an almost invisible shadow blending with the morning mist. Adrian’s mind raced. The Commander has grown bolder. Every move, every step, every breath must be calculated. One mistake could cost us everything. The whispers lingered in his mind, venomous and intimate: You can not protect her. She will belong to me. Every failure is yours. He focused on the present. Every shadow, every rustle co

Chapter Thirty-Two – Fractured Allegiances The forest loomed like a living labyrinth, mist curling between gnarled roots and jagged rocks, thick enough to obscure even the faintest movement. Adrian moved cautiously, each step deliberate, boots sinking into the wet earth. He could feel the Commander’s presence lingering somewhere in the fog, a suffocating weight pressing against his mind. The whisper that had haunted him since their last encounter returned, venomous and intimate: You cannot protect her. She will belong to me. He shoved the thought aside, focusing on the now. Elena moved beside him, bow in hand, arrow poised. Her eyes flicked over the terrain with sharp calculation, muscles coiled like a predator ready to strike. Marcus followed closely, knives at the ready, every movement precise, every sense alert. The ally flanked the left, almost imperceptible in their silent grace, anticipating danger before it could materialize. Adria

Dawn broke pale and gray over the forest, the mist curling through the dense underbrush like living smoke. Every branch, every fallen leaf, seemed a potential threat, every shadow a trap. Adrian led the group with unwavering precision, boots pressing into the damp earth as he scanned for the Commander’s omnipresent influence. The previous night’s battles had taken their toll. His muscles ached, his mind was weary, but the Commander’s whispers had not ceased. You can not save her. She will belong to me. He forced himself to focus on the present, to anticipate threats rather than succumb to fear. Elena moved beside him, bow in hand, eyes sharp, scanning the dense fog with deadly intent. Her fingers hovered near her arrows, ready to release a shot with lethal accuracy. Marcus patrolled the rear, muscles taut, knives in hand, prepared for any ambush. The mysterious ally moved silently, their presence almost imperceptible yet unnervingly precise, always covering th

The forest was alive in a way that made the hair on Adrian’s neck stand on end. Mist swirled around gnarled roots and jagged rocks, thick and suffocating, hiding movement that was too deliberate to be natural. Every snap of a twig, every distant rustle, reverberated in the cold dawn air like a warning. Adrian led the group, boots sinking into the damp soil, senses stretched to their absolute limits. The Commander’s presence pressed against him, whispering into the edges of his mind. You cannot protect her. She is mine. You will fail.He forced the thought aside, anchoring himself in the present. Each shadow could conceal a trap or an ambush. Each movement in the mist could herald an enemy strike. Elena moved beside him, bow drawn, eyes sharp, fingers brushing the arrows with practiced calm that belied her inner tension. Marcus followed closely, knives ready, muscles coiled, constantly scanning the terrain. The ally flanked their left side, a phantom among the mist, mov