Novels by Sora

Aria’s POVThe city looked exactly the same.Same glass buildings reflecting a pale evening sky. Same restless traffic. Same expensive air that used to make me feel like I was always one step behind everyone else. I stood on the sidewalk outside the restaurant with my overnight bag at my feet and my phone in my hand, rereading the message from my mother for the third time.*Just meet her once. She’s your sister now. Family is family. Please, Aria.*Family was a generous word for what we were.I locked the screen and exhaled slowly. Three years should have been long enough to dull the edge of everything. In some ways it had. I no longer woke up angry. I no longer replayed that night in college on a loop until my chest hurt. But standing here, less than twenty steps from where Serena was waiting, I could still feel the familiar tightness settle under my ribs.She had taken my boyfriend first.Not in a dramatic, public way. Quietly. Efficiently. One week I had been falling asleep on hi

Stella’s POVOne year changed almost everything.The threats were long gone. The man behind them had been sentenced months ago, and the quiet that followed had slowly turned into something that felt like a real life instead of a guarded pause between dangers. Asher still lived in the penthouse, still checked sightlines out of habit, and still positioned himself between me and any room full of too many unknown people. But the world now knew his face for an entirely different reason.Julian’s campaign had been only the beginning. After the first set of photos went wide, the offers never really stopped. Asher had taken them selectively — a handful of high-end editorials, two more campaigns, a cover that made my publicist send me a voice note consisting mostly of stunned laughter. He was still my primary security when I needed him. He was also, somehow, a working model whose name people actually recognized.And as of this morning, the entire industry finally had confirmation of what mos

Asher’s POVIt took seven days.Seven days of thin leads, quiet pressure, and the kind of patience that felt like grinding my teeth down to nothing. The private investigator who had taken the original surveillance job finally gave up a name when the legal heat became inconvenient. That name led to a second man — the one who had actually paid for the photos, the messages, the slow attempt to crawl under Stella’s skin.We found him in a rented short-stay apartment across the city.I didn’t bring a full team into the room. I went in first. He was smaller than I expected in person, all nervous energy and cheap confidence that drained the second he recognized me. There was a brief, ugly moment where he tried to talk his way sideways. I didn’t let him get far. One hard slap across the face snapped his head to the side and put an end to the excuses. It wasn’t about theatrics. It was the last clean outlet for a week of restrained fury before I forced myself to step back.“You’re done,” I to

Asher’s POVI put the apartment into full lockdown just after midnight.Exterior cameras on continuous record. Internal motion alerts tightened. Balcony doors double-checked and barred. The opposite building’s relevant sightlines blocked with temporary privacy film I’d had sent up within the hour. No deliveries. No unnecessary movement near the windows after dark. Stella was not to sleep in the original bedroom until I cleared the angle completely.She watched me move through the space without complaint. That almost made it harder. Most clients argued when the restrictions closed in. She just sat on the edge of the couch with her knees drawn up, tracking me with quiet eyes while I turned her home into something closer to a controlled box.“You’re sealing us in,” she said eventually.“I’m reducing access points.” I checked the final window latch. “There’s a difference.”“Doesn’t feel like one.”I didn’t answer. The photo of her sleeping was still burned behind my eyes — the vulnerable

Stella’s POVThe fourth threat didn’t come in an envelope.It came through my phone at 6:42 a.m., from a number that shouldn’t have been able to reach me. A single image loaded slowly against the early morning light in my bedroom. Me, asleep in this apartment two nights ago, face turned into the pillow, the curve of my bare shoulder visible above the sheet. The angle was wrong. Too high. Like it had been taken from outside the window of a building across the street.Under the photo were six words:**I can get closer than he can.**My blood went cold.I was still staring at the screen when the door to my room opened. Asher stood there in dark sweatpants and a T-shirt, already fully alert, like the shift in the air alone had woken him. His eyes went to my face first, then to the phone in my hand.“Show me.”I turned the screen toward him. He took the phone, studied the image in silence for several long seconds, then locked it and set it face down on the nightstand with deliberate care.

Asher’s POVThe photos landed online just after noon.I found out the way most people probably did — my phone started vibrating with a string of unfamiliar notifications. Julian had posted three selects from the campaign with a short caption about “new face” and “exact energy.” Within an hour the images were being shared across platforms I didn’t even use. Comments stacked up under the posts. Speculative articles appeared. Someone found an old, low-quality photo of me from years ago and tried to build a narrative around it.I silenced the phone and set it face down on the counter.Stella was still on set when it all started spreading. A long shoot day across town. I stayed with her the entire time, close enough to do my job, far enough to keep the professional line intact in public. Every so often I caught her glancing at her own phone between setups, jaw tightening almost imperceptibly. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. I could feel the shift in her attention like a chan

Adrian’s POVA few days had passed since Max joined our family, and the little golden ball of energy had already turned the mansion into his personal playground. I watched from the doorway as Max tumbled across the living room carpet, chasing a toy Lila had brought for him. Enzo was on the floor with him, laughing as the puppy jumped on his chest. Lila sat beside Elena on the couch, both of them giggling at the scene. Elena’s mother and father were also there, her mother smiling warmly while knitting a small blanket for the baby and her father watching everything with quiet pride.Elena’s bump had grown noticeably now. At five months, it was beautifully visible under her soft maternity top. Every time I looked at her, something deep in my chest tightened with pride and raw love. She was carrying our child, glowing even on the hard days, and I couldn’t stop admiring how strong and beautiful she looked.“Boss, we need to talk about the shipment,” one of my men had said earlier that m

Third Person POV Adrian loosened his tie as he drove back from the office, the city lights blurring past the windows. The long meeting had drained him, but the thought of returning home to Elena always brought a smile to his face. She was getting heavier with their child now, and every day he tried to make her feel as loved and comfortable as possible. Her parents were still staying with them, filling the mansion with warmth and constant care.As he turned onto a quieter side street, something small moved near the curb. Adrian slowed the car. Under the streetlight, a tiny golden retriever puppy sat shivering, looking lost and wet from the light drizzle. No collar, no owner in sight. The little thing looked up at him with big, pleading eyes and let out a soft whimper.Adrian’s heart melted instantly. Elena had mentioned wanting a dog one lazy afternoon weeks ago — something soft and warm to cuddle with during the pregnancy days. He pulled over, checked around for any signs of an own

Third Person POVThe grand doors of the mansion swung open, and the entire house seemed to fill with instant warmth and life. Elena’s mother stepped inside first, her arms already reaching out as she pulled Elena into a tight, loving embrace. The familiar scent of home — spices, care, and unconditional love — wrapped around Elena like a comforting blanket. Tears glistened in her mother’s eyes as she held her daughter close.“My sweet girl,” Elena’s mother whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Look at you… carrying my grandchild. You’re glowing, even through all the tiredness.”Elena’s father entered right behind her, his strong presence filling the space. He gave Adrian a firm, meaningful handshake, eyes steady and serious. “Take good care of my daughter and that little one growing inside her,” he said, his tone carrying both trust and quiet protectiveness. Then his gaze softened as it landed on Elena’s rounded belly. “We’re here now. Family looks after family.”Those first few

Third Person POVThe early months of Elena’s pregnancy were a beautiful yet turbulent blend of joy, exhaustion, and unexpected challenges. The nausea that had started mildly now struck hardest in the mornings, leaving her drained and irritable. Strange cravings hit at the oddest hours—pickles with chocolate ice cream, spicy mangoes at midnight—and sudden waves of tiredness forced her to nap more often than she liked. Her emotions swung like a pendulum, one moment filled with glowing happiness, the next with tears or sharp frustration.Adrian remained her unwavering rock through it all.One particularly rough evening, after a full day of battling nausea, Elena sat curled on the couch in their mansion, a blanket draped over her legs. Her small bump was just beginning to show, a gentle curve that Adrian couldn’t stop touching. He sat beside her, his large hand gently rubbing slow circles on her lower back.“I feel like a whale already,” Elena muttered, poking at her belly with a dram

Elena’s POVThe past few weeks had been a beautiful whirlwind of emotions. Lila and Enzo were back from their honeymoon, glowing with that unmistakable newlywed bliss, and Annie was finally settling into her peaceful life in Italy with Mark and the twins. Everything around me felt full of joy and new beginnings, yet for Adrian and me, life had quietly slipped into a softer, more intimate rhythm.This morning was the third day in a row I woke up with my stomach churning. Nausea hit me like a wave. I rushed to the bathroom, barely making it in time before my stomach rebelled. I clung to the cool porcelain, heaving until there was nothing left. Adrian was right behind me in seconds, his strong hands gently gathering my hair while he rubbed soothing circles on my back.“You okay, baby?” he asked softly, concern lacing his deep voice.I nodded weakly, rinsing my mouth and splashing cold water on my face. “Just tired. This nausea keeps coming back, especially in the mornings. It’s been ha

Lila’s POVThe private jet touched down smoothly on the familiar runway, and my heart fluttered with a beautiful mix of excitement, nostalgia, and pure contentment. Ten days on that private Greek island with Enzo had been absolute paradise—endless sun-drenched days, turquoise waters, and nights filled with so much passion I could still feel the delicious ache between my thighs. But now we were back. Married. Ready to step into our real life as Mr. and Mrs. Romano.Enzo squeezed my hand tightly as the plane door opened, that signature charming smirk playing on his lips. The same smirk that had made me weak since the day we met. “Ready to go home, Mrs. Romano?” he asked, his voice low and husky, laced with promise.I smiled up at him, leaning into his strong frame. “As long as I’m with you, I’m home anywhere, Mr. Romano.”The drive back to the mansion felt both familiar and brand new. Our mansion now—grand, luxurious, and secured like a fortress, surrounded by beautiful manicured gard

Third Person POVAria had not expected Paris to feel this alive. The hotel room had been beautiful, yes, but the real magic began once they stepped outside into the city itself. Everything looked softer here somehow. The streets seemed to glow even in ordinary daylight, the cafés looked like they belonged in a painting, and every corner had that effortless old-world charm that made her feel like she had walked into a dream she had no right to be in. She kept looking around like she was afraid the whole thing might vanish if she blinked too long. Damien walked beside her with his usual calm, one hand in his pocket, the other occasionally brushing the back of hers whenever they crossed the street or shifted through the crowd. He did not say much, but he did not need to. His quiet presence was enough. It made her feel safe in a city she barely knew and strangely proud to be seen standing beside him like this. Aria turned to him at one point, smiling brightly. “This place is even

Aria Pov I had been checking and rechecking my suitcase for the last twenty minutes even though I knew everything was packed perfectly. Passport, clothes, toiletries all in place. Still, I kept opening the bag, making sure nothing was missing. This trip felt too good to be true.Paris.Just the word made me smile like an idiot.I never thought I’d get this excited over a surprise trip, but Damien had a way of making even simple things feel special. The man who once treated feelings like an inconvenience had started remembering all my little preferences my favorite color, how I liked my tea, the dresses I felt pretty in. And now this. A whole trip to Paris, planned without me knowing a thing.I stood in front of the mirror, smoothing down the comfortable dress I’d chosen for the airport. It was elegant enough to make me feel good without being too much for travel. I caught my reflection and whispered to myself, “I’m actually going to Paris.”From behind me, Damien’s calm voice cam

Aria Pov I’d been waiting for Damien with that familiar mix of curiosity and annoyance building in my chest the kind only he managed to stir lately. Nothing with him was ever simple. He would walk into a room looking all controlled and detached, like nothing in the world could touch him, and then do something so unexpectedly thoughtful that it left me staring at him like I had no idea what game he was playing.Take today, for example.He had come to take me home himself.That alone was enough to make me suspicious.When I spotted him standing near the car, neat and composed as ever, I had to fight the urge to smile too obviously. He looked exactly like he always did when he was pretending nothing in the world could get under his skin. But I knew better now. I had started noticing the tiny things. The way his eyes found me a little too quickly. The way he watched me a second longer than necessary. The way he kept acting like he was not softening, when clearly he was.My bag was alre

Damien POV The house felt wrong the moment Aria left. Not quiet. Wrong. Quiet was something I had always liked. Quiet meant control, space, no unnecessary noise, no one demanding anything from me when my head was already full of work and numbers and problems that refused to stay solved. But this silence was different. It sat in the halls like a ghost, thick and unmoving, and every room seemed to remind me that she was not in it. I had not realized how much life she brought into this place until she was gone. A house could be expensive, polished, perfect in every corner, and still feel hollow enough to echo. I stood in the doorway of the bedroom after she left, watching the open closet, the half-zipped bag she had carried downstairs, the faint impression of her presence still clinging to the air. It was ridiculous, really, how quickly the room had changed. One small overnight bag missing from the floor, one sweater she had taken with her, and the entire space looked stripped

Aria POVThe house had gone quiet again after everything that happened, but it was not the same kind of quiet as before. Before, the silence had felt empty, like a place no one cared enough to fill. Now it felt heavy, like the walls themselves were still remembering Vaswani’s voice, Damien’s rage, the sound of breaking things and my own sobbing in the middle of it all. I had thought the worst part would be the attack itself, but the truth was that the hours after it were somehow harder. Once the fear settled, it left behind something uglier and far more exhausting shame, guilt, and the sick feeling that I had somehow allowed the whole thing to happen by letting him in at all.Damien had not left my side for long. He had cleaned up the blood on his knuckles, changed his shirt, and then returned to sit beside me on the bed like he was afraid I might vanish if he looked away. He kept checking on me in that quiet way of his, not crowding me, not forcing me to talk, but making sure I k

Aria POV "Don't fucking touch my wife, you filthy bastard!" Damien's voice cut through the air like a thunderclap, raw and seething with a fury I'd never heard from him before, each word driven home by another vicious punch. I stood there frozen in shock, watching Vaswani reel back against the couch, his arms flailing uselessly to shield himself while Damien kept coming relentlessly, face contorted in protective rage. Blood sprayed from Vaswani's nose and mouth, staining the rug beneath him as he crumpled to the floor, groaning weakly through busted lips. "How dare you come into my home and lay hands on her? I'll end you for this, you piece of shit!""Damien, stop!" My voice broke high and desperate, tears already streaming hot down my face as I threw myself forward, grabbing at his arm with both hands mid-swing. Vaswani lay there now, face unrecognizable a swollen mess of blood and bruises, barely conscious and wheezing through the carnage Damien had unleashed. But Damien's f