Novels by sambeehat

The first night in a new place is always the loudest.Even silence has a sound.I stood barefoot in the middle of the living room, city lights bleeding through the windows, Chicago stretched out beneath me like an unfinished argument. The apartment smelled new—clean, untouched, unfamiliar. No trace of anyone else. No memories clinging to the walls.Exactly what I wanted.I unpacked methodically. Suits first. Shoes lined with precision. Toiletries arranged with the same care I used to organise case files. Control, even in the smallest things, mattered. When everything had a place, my thoughts stayed quieter.I showered, letting the hot water beat against my shoulders until my skin tingled, until the day finally loosened its grip. I slipped into an oversized black T-shirt and nothing else, hair damp down my back, and poured myself a glass of water.The city outside glittered indifferently.I moved toward the window, resting my forehead briefly against the cool glass. Down below, cars st

The plane touched down with a dull thud, and Chicago stretched beneath me in steel and grey, sharp-edged and unfamiliar.Good.I stayed seated long after the seatbelt sign flicked off, fingers wrapped around the armrest as the cabin filled with movement and noise. People eager to get back to lives that still made sense. I waited until the aisle cleared, until the air felt less suffocating, then stood and reached for my bag.No white dress.No ghosts.Just me.The cold hit me the moment I stepped outside O’Hare, slicing through my coat like a reminder that this city wouldn’t coddle me. Wind whipped my hair loose from its bun, strands of red snapping against my cheek as I climbed into the waiting car Max had arranged.The driver barely spoke. I appreciated that.Downtown Chicago rose ahead of us, all glass towers and sharp lines, the kind of city that didn’t ask permission. I watched it approach through the tinted window, pulse steady, shoulders squared. This wasn’t a retreat. It was a

When I walked into the firm, my heels clicked across the marble floor like a warning bell — steady, sharp, unyielding. Every employee I passed straightened immediately, whispering my name like I was some untouchable goddess, but I felt anything but. Inside, I was just a woman whose world had collapsed in a single breath.Still, my head stayed high. Always high.The elevator doors slid open to the top floor, my office — my father’s legacy. The same office I once dreamed of sharing with him. Now, it felt cold, too quiet, like even the walls could sense my exhaustion. I walked straight to my desk, tossed my bag down, and buried myself in the comfort of work. Paperwork, contracts, case files — anything that could drown out the memory of yesterday.A soft knock came moments later. “Come in,” I said without looking up.My assistant, Clara, poked her head through the door, nervousness flickering in her eyes. “Ma’am… Mr. Dave is waiting outside.”My pen froze mid-sentence.I inhaled slowly,

In the car, I stare out the window at the bustling city — people laughing, horns blaring, life moving on as if mine hadn’t just fallen apart. In the passenger seat beside Noah, I clutch my wedding dress tightly, its soft fabric a painful reminder of everything I lost.I’m silently grateful for his quiet. He hasn’t said a word since we left the house, and I don’t think I could handle it if he did.When the car finally rolls to a stop in front of my apartment building, I look up for the first time. His bright blue eyes are already on me. He looks like he wants to say something but stops himself. Instead, he picks up my phone from my lap, calls his own number, and hands it back to me.I blink at him, startled by the audacity. Before I can even open my mouth to argue, I hear him chuckle — low and brief.“That’s the look you give when you’re about to say something reckless,” he says, almost amused.I stare at him, confused, but before I can reply, his face returns to its usual unreadable

"Aurora?” Noah’s voice cut through the chaos, confusion etched across his face. “What happened?” he asked, glancing past me.Footsteps echoed behind. I tore myself out of his embrace and started walking away, my wedding dress swishing against my legs.“Wait, Aurora!” Dave’s voice called after me. I didn’t stop. I couldn’t stop.“Please!”A sudden noise made me spin around. Noah had Dave pinned against the wall, his expression dark with anger. Dave’s eyes locked on mine, pleading, but how could I stay?I kept walking, out into the reception. Heads turned. Whispers followed. My bare feet were cold on the marble floor, but I barely felt it.Almost at the door, someone grabbed my arm. My heart lurched and I almost screamed—until I looked up.Max. My brother. He was staring down at me, concern and anger battling in his eyes.“What are you doing here?” he demanded, frowning. “Where are you going?” His gaze flicked around the room. “Where’s Dave?”For the first time, I looked straight at him

Two days passed in a blur.I lived at the firm, barely going home, only pausing long enough to approve wedding arrangements over the phone. The hours bled together — meetings, contracts, and the steady hum of my father’s legacy.Now it was here. My wedding day.I stand before the full-length mirror, hardly recognising the woman staring back at me. The satin gown hugs my figure in all the right places, its off-shoulder sleeves grazing my skin like a whisper. The train pools behind me, soft as spilled cream. My red hair has been pinned into a deliberately messy bun, a few loose strands framing my face just so. It’s the kind of effortless elegance stylists spend hours perfecting. My makeup is flawless — the soft glow on my cheeks, the hint of rose on my lips, the smoky liner making my eyes look deeper, almost otherworldly.And for the first time in a long time a genuine smile tugged my lips. I was about to marry the love of my life. Dave.We’d been together for six years. We met in coll