Novels by Nhelahsheere

The estate was silent, no staff visible, no cars except theirs, no witnesses.Just Damian.And whatever waited inside.Damian led him through a side entrance, down a stone corridor that felt older than time, and finally through a heavy wooden door.Into a room that made Leon's blood run cold.It was empty except for a single chair in the center, metal, bolted to the floor, and a table against the far wall holding things Leon recognized from his training days.Not torture implements.Worse.Persuasion tools.The kind designed to break will without leaving permanent marks."Sit," Damian said.Leon sat.Damian didn't restrain him.Didn't need to.They both knew Leon wasn't going to run.Damian circled slowly, hands clasped behind his back."I have questions," he said quietly.Leon looked up at him. "I'll tell you everything.""I know. But not because you want to. Because you need to."Damian stopped in front of him."You helped Maxwell Gluten die in Rowan's penthouse," he said. "Why?""S

Leon Martins had been running for six days. Six days of looking over his shoulder, jumping at shadows, barely sleeping. Six days of knowing that Damian Holt was hunting him.His phone was still in his pocket.Still powered on.Still trackable.He knew Damian Holt was hunting him.Knew Rowan wanted answers.Knew that every moment he stayed free was borrowed time.And he didn't care.Because Damian finding him, Rowan's executioner dragging him into whatever dark place they'd prepared, sounded like justice.Like the ending he deserved.He'd tied himself to Selene Vale thinking it was love.Thinking she was worth destroying himself for.But it wasn't love. It never had been.It was obsession. Delusion. Self-destruction disguised as devotion.And now he understood. He was tied to her forever. Not because of love. Not because of loyalty.But because of guilt. Because he'd helped her hurt people. Because he'd been complicit in her crimes.Because he'd chosen her over his conscience, his honor

Kenneth Dunlap arrived at Rowan Adair's office building with a dubious amount of confidence masked in a suit.He'd made the appointment through official channels, using a shell company name that wouldn't immediately trigger security alerts. Said he was a consultant with information regarding a "legal matter of significant personal interest to Mr. Adair."Vague enough to get through the gate.Specific enough to guarantee the meeting.Now he sat in a waiting room that probably cost more than most people's homes, Italian leather chairs, original artwork on the walls, a view of the city that made you feel like a god looking down on mortals.Kenneth adjusted his tie and waited.He was good at waiting.Patience, after all, was how you survived in his line of work.The receptionist, a severe-looking woman in her fifties with the kind of face that suggested she'd heard every lie ever told, glanced up from her computer."Mr. Adair will see you now," she said crisply. "Conference Room B. Down t

Rowan's phone buzzed against the marble countertop.Unknown Number: We need to talk. Tonight. I'm downstairs.He stared at the message for a long moment, jaw tightening.It was 11:43pm and the only one person would be bold enough or desperate enough to show up at his building unannounced at this hour.He typed back quickly.Rowan: Leave. Now.The response came immediately.Unknown: I'm pregnant, Rowan. And if you don't let me up in the next five minutes, I'm walking straight to the nearest news outlet.His blood ran cold.Pregnant.No.No.It was the effrontery for him. After he'd been drugged that night. Unconscious.He had been violated for God's sake without any explanation whatsoever. And she was her claiming she was pregnant, weeks later.Game well played.There was no pregnancy.There couldn't be.Unless—His stomach twisted violently.He dialed Damian immediately."Sir?" Damian's voice came through, alert despite the late hour. Always alert."Selene Vale is downstairs," Rowan s

The private lounge at the top of Adair Corporations was designed to intimidate.Floor-to-ceiling glass walls overlooked the city sprawling below like something conquered. Dark oak paneling absorbed sound, making every word feel weighted. Low lighting cast shadows that softened edges without offering warmth.Marcelline did not look at the view.She stood near the entrance instead, arms crossed loosely over her navy blazer, chin lifted just enough to signal she wouldn't be cowed by expensive architecture.Waiting.The door opened quietly.Rowan Adair walked in.He wore charcoal shirt—tailored perfectly, no tie, sleeves rolled once at the forearms in that deliberate way that suggested controlled casualty. Casual dominance.He stopped when he saw her, hand still resting on the door handle.For half a second, something flickered in his eyes.Not arrogance.Not mockery.Relief.

Selene watched Leon walk away, his silhouette disappearing into the shadows between the trees, and something inside her chest cracked.Not her heart.She wasn't sure she had one of those anymore.But something vital. Something that had been holding her together through weeks of chaos and fear and desperation."Leon, wait!" she called out, voice breaking.He didn't stop.Didn't even slow down.Just kept walking with that awful, measured pace, like he was already gone, already somewhere else entirely, already mourning the version of her he'd invented in his head.Selene ran after him, heels clicking frantically against the paved path."Leon, please!"He stopped finally.But he didn't turn around.Just stood there with his back to her, shoulders rigid, hands clenched at his sides.She caught up to him, breathing hard, words tumbling out in a desperate rush."It