Novels by Sora

Hannah’s POVHome was supposed to be safe.It stopped being safe the second my father set his phone on the dining table, screen up, and I saw the photo someone from campus had been careless enough to take — me and Caleb in the alcove by the vending machines, too close, his hand at my waist, the angle ugly with implication.“Explain,” my father said.There was no good explanation that kept both the truth and his respect. I tried a version with project, rumor, timing. He wasn’t interested in versions. The Morgan name in his house turned the air to metal. The argument that followed was loud enough that the neighbors could have taken notes — betrayal, history, every old wound between Scott and Morgan reopened over a grainy corridor still.“You will end it,” he said finally. “Or you will not set foot in this house as my daughter with that boy’s shadow on you.”I left the table shaking.By 10 p.m. the rain had started. By 10:20 my phone had one message sent and one reply received.**Hannah

Caleb’s POVI woke up before her.That was the first problem. The second was how easy it felt — Hannah Scott in my bed, bare under my sheets, one of my arms trapped under her cheek and the other resting along the curve of her waist like it had always known the route. Her hair was a mess across my pillow. Soft. Dark. I tucked a strand behind her ear with more care than I wanted to admit I had, and she made a small sound in her sleep without opening her eyes.Beautiful.The word arrived without permission. Only mine like this. Not the girl who sharpens every sentence in a seminar. Not the Scott name on the other side of a decade of lawsuits. Just this. Warm. Quiet. In my bed like the war outside forgot our addresses.I should have gotten up immediately. Created distance. Rebuilt the version of me that knew better.Instead I stayed another minute and watched her breathe.---When I finally slid out of bed she frowned at the loss of heat and curled into the warm spot I left. I pulled t

Hannah’s POV The text came at 9:41 p.m. **Caleb:** You still up **Caleb:** I can send the revised appendix. Or you can come get it. I stared at the screen too long. **Hannah:** You’re incapable of email now? **Caleb:** Email’s impersonal. **Caleb:** Address is in your DMs. Code’s 4821. **Caleb:** Only if you want to. That last line was the problem. Not an order. Not a fight. An opening. I should have left it unread and gone back to pretending the lab had been a one-time collapse under deadline pressure. Instead I was on my feet, pulling on a hoodie, telling myself I was only going for the file. His building was quieter than campus, all clean lines and soft lobby light. 4821 unlocked the side entrance like he’d known I would use it. By the time I reached his door my pulse was already unreasonable. Caleb opened it in a black T-shirt and drawstring pants, hair slightly damp like he’d showered and then given up on the rest of the night. For a second we just looke

Author POVBy Wednesday the secret had a temperature.It lived in the half-second Hannah’s eyes found Caleb across a lecture hall and forgot to look away. It lived in the way his attention cut toward her voice before she finished saying his name in a group critique. Nothing obvious enough for a professor to flag. Nothing clean enough for either of them to dismiss as residual deadline adrenaline.Brooke noticed first.She noticed because she had been cataloguing Hannah’s face since freshman year — the temper tells, the pride tells, the rare soft tells Hannah pretended not to own. What she saw now was none of those exactly. It was the way Hannah’s shoulders went careful when Caleb entered a room. The way she laughed too sharply at nothing whenever someone mentioned the party dare like a dead joke. The way her gaze kept betraying her in the spaces between sentences.At lunch Brooke set her tray down with intent.“Okay,” she said. “How long have you been sleeping with Morgan.”Hannah ch

Hannah’s POVThe business building after midnight felt like a different country.Most of the lights were on motion sensors that had given up caring. The hallway outside the third-floor project lab was a strip of emergency glow and vending-machine hum. Inside, only one bank of fluorescents still burned over the long table where our draft lived in twelve open tabs and a shared folder named, with pure spite, Scott-Morgan Final.Caleb hadn’t looked at me properly in an hour.That was fine. I hadn’t looked at him properly in two.We were behind. The survey data had come back messy. Ellison wanted the full deck uploaded by 8 a.m. Pride would not let either of us be the reason it failed. Pride was also the only thing keeping my hands on the keyboard instead of around his throat for the way he’d said we can’t do this in the quiet room and then kissed me like he was trying to set the sentence on fire.“Your correlation chart is wrong,” he said without lifting his eyes from the screen.“My ch

Caleb’s POV I had spent the entire night not sleeping correctly. Every time I closed my eyes I got the same loop: Hannah Scott crossing a circle of plastic cups and bad decisions, the dare hanging in the air, my hand at the side of her neck, and the exact second a performance kiss stopped being performance. Her mouth had been soft. Softer than anything about her personality had any right to be. She had tasted like the cheap punch someone kept refilling and something underneath it that was just her. Sweet in a way that made me angry at myself for noticing. Five seconds, the dare said. I had taken more. By morning the campus had already turned it into content. Not everywhere. Enough. A couple of stories that would expire by Tuesday if nobody fed them. I told myself that was ideal. Low noise. Contained. Then Hannah started avoiding me like I was a contagious scheduling error. --- She left class through the opposite door. She answered project messages with one-word rep

Adrian’s POVThe mansion was quiet when the call came in.I was standing in the nursery, leaning against the unfinished crib while Elena napped downstairs with Max curled against her side. The soft glow of the afternoon light made everything look peaceful. Too peaceful. My phone vibrated once in my pocket — the private line only a handful of people had.I stepped into the hallway and answered.“Speak.”Enzo’s voice was low and tight. “We have a problem. Someone inside is leaking.”My grip on the phone tightened. “What kind of leak?”“Business. Routes. A couple of the smaller warehouse locations. And…” He paused. “Your personal schedule from last week. The garden venue visit. The photoshoot studio.”Cold silence filled my chest.Someone had eyes on my family.“How sure?” I asked, voice dropping into something sharp.“Very. One of the mid-level guys — Marcus — has been moving differently. Money appearing in places it shouldn’t. We traced a couple of encrypted messages. He’s been sellin

Adrian’s POVThe morning sun filtered through the tall windows of the mansion as we all gathered in the living room. Elena sat on the couch with her hand resting on her growing bump, already five months along and glowing in a way that still stole my breath every single time I looked at her. Her mother sat beside her, gently adjusting a soft shawl around Elena’s shoulders. Her father stood near the window, arms crossed, watching us with quiet pride. Lila was flipping through a tablet filled with venue options, while Enzo leaned against the wall with Max tugging at the end of his shoelace.“Alright,” Lila said, looking up with a bright smile. “We have three outdoor options left. But I think you’re going to fall in love with the third one.”Elena looked at me, a little nervous. “I just want something that feels… us. Not too big. Not too formal.”I walked over and sat on the arm of the couch, resting my hand on the back of her neck. “Whatever makes you happy, baby. I’ll make it happen.”

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

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