Nobela ni Emeraldwrites

BEAUTIFUL DANGER♠️ISABELLAFunny how people often assumed power was loud.That it came with raised voices, slammed fists and unnecessary displays of dominance.But that was power.Power is quiet. Deadly. Precise.It was never having to prove yourself to anyone, but at the same time commanding respect.Power is money. Connections.It is walking into a room knowing every pair of eyes would follow automatically. While some would stare in admiration, others would stare with hate or jealousy.The elevator doors slid open on the top floor of my company. I was immediately greeted by my staffs as I walked along the hallway. A gigantic picture of myself hung on the wall as I walked past it, heading straight into my office with my assistant, Diane trying to catch up with me.Now before you ask why I’m still at work by this time; well for starters, we have a deadline to meet for our new catalogue, and with fashion week coming up in the next one month, time isn’t on our side. Also, yes, I do p

♣️72 HOURS ‎DANIEL. ‎The rich scent of her perfume lingered even after she was gone. ‎ ‎For reasons I couldn't explain, I found myself staring at the garage entrance long after the glass door had swung shut. The afternoon sun poured through the windows, illuminating tiny flecks of dust floating lazily through the air, but my mind was nowhere near the engines waiting to be repaired. ‎ ‎It was still trying to catch up with whatever had just happened. ‎ ‎"You gonna keep staring at the door or what?" ‎ ‎Seb's voice snapped me back to reality. ‎ ‎I blinked before looking over my shoulder. ‎ ‎He was standing with his arms folded across his broad chest, a grin stretched so wide across his face that it looked painful. ‎ ‎"What?" ‎ ‎"What?" He laughed. "Brother, you just got propositioned by a woman who showed up looking like she walked out of a billionaire magazine cover." ‎ ‎"It wasn't a proposition. And why on earth were you eavesdropping?" ‎ ‎"Oh?" Seb cocked an eyeb

♣️ HOOK LINE AND SINKER ISABELLA.I stroll in casually into the garage, having driven here all on my own cause I needed to see where he worked, and maybe see his face again. So imagine my surprise- and disappointment when I see that he is not alone- there’s a girl there with him, and another guy who looks to be about his age, but shorter and bulky. But the girl…I’m interrupted from my thoughts when someone clears their throat, calling my attention.“Miss, a bit of a surprise seeing you here. Need a fix? Is the car acting up again?” Daniel asks, now fully facing me. He has that cool air that reverbrates around him that I just can’t describe- it’s pissing me off, but intriguing at the same time.“Not at all. I’m only here because I feel indebted to you. So it’s only natural that I give you what you had rejected earlier on”. I say, pulling out a wad of cash from my purse.In all honesty, I wasn’t here to give him the money- though I would if he eventually takes it- I want to test hi

♣️ Dystopian Feelings.‎Something is wrong with me.‎If there was one thing I disliked more than inefficiency, it was unpredictability.‎And yet, ‎I found myself arriving at brunch ten minutes early.‎I never arrived early.‎I stepped out of the car, handing my keys to the valet without a second glance before walking into the restaurant.‎It was one of Sofia’s favorites. Minimalist, expensive, and filled with people who pretended not to stare while doing exactly that.‎I didn’t notice them.‎I was still thinking about him.‎That in itself was a problem.‎“Isabella.”‎I looked up.‎Sofia was already seated, one leg crossed over the other, a glass of wine in hand despite the time of day.‎Her red hair fell in soft waves over her shoulders, catching the light like fire. She looked effortless, composed, dangerous in a way that matched me but expressed itself differently.‎Where I was quiet—‎Sofia was not.‎“You’re late,” she said, raising a brow.‎“I’m early.”‎She checked her watch.‎Th

The Woman They Fear♣️‎♣️ ISABELLA'S POV‎‎I don’t sleep much.‎Not because I can’t.‎Because I don’t need to.‎The city stretched beneath me in a quiet glow, California alive even in the early hours of the morning. Lights flickered in the distance, cars moving like slow streams of gold across the highway. From up here, everything looked small.‎Manageable.‎I lifted the glass to my lips, taking a slow sip of red wine as I stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of my bedroom.‎White silk brushed against my skin, my robe loosely tied, barely clinging to my frame. The air was cool, but I didn’t feel it. I rarely felt anything I didn’t choose to.‎My phone buzzed against the glass table behind me.‎I didn’t turn immediately.‎I already knew who it was.‎It rang again.‎Persistent.‎I sighed softly, placing the wine down before walking over, picking it up on the third ring.‎“Uncle.”‎“You didn’t call.”‎Straight to the point.‎Always.‎I moved back toward the window, resting my hip lightl

The Woman He Built ‎🖤♣️ ‎The tarp lifted, and the world returned in a flood of light.‎Isabella blinked once, adjusting, her pupils shrinking against the brightness. The man standing over her did not move like the others. He did not startle. He did not shout.‎He simply looked.‎Mateo Reyes.‎She recognized him immediately. Not because she had seen him often, but because she had been trained to remember faces that mattered. Her father had shown her photographs once. Not with affection, but with purpose.‎“If anything ever happens, you find him.”‎Now she had.‎Mateo’s gaze was steady, heavy, assessing. His face carried the same bones as her father’s, but age and experience had carved deeper lines into it. Where her father had looked controlled, Mateo looked hardened. Less restrained. More dangerous.‎“You got on my boat,” he said.‎His tone was not angry. It was factual.‎Isabella pushed herself up from beneath the tarp, dust clinging to her dress. She stood in front of him, small

‎Elara’s POV.‎The palace changes the instant Lyriel says the name.‎One moment the corridors are quiet, dim violet light and distant echoes.‎The next, alarms ring through the stone like screaming bells—deep, bone-rattling chimes that make the moonflowers wilt and Sael’s fur bristle with real flame.‎Guards pour from every archway, wings and claws and blades flashing.‎Lockdown.‎The word ripples through the air like a command.‎Lyriel grabs my wrist, wings flaring wide.‎“We have to move. Now.”‎We run.‎Sael races ahead, yipping warnings at corners.‎Behind us, the shadows on the walls twist and stretch, reaching.‎I feel them—cold fingers brushing the back of my neck.‎We burst into my chambers.‎Lyriel slams the door and presses both palms to it.‎Runes flare silver across the wood, sealing it.‎She leans there, breathing hard.‎“He’s inside,” she whispers. “Kael is inside the palace.”‎My blood turns to ice.‎“How?”‎“Impossible,” she says, voice shaking. “Draven wove barriers c

Defiant Shadows.Draven.The night after the walkI stand in the courtyard long after she disappears inside.The false stars above me pulse like they’re mocking my heartbeat.I told her to go to her chambers before I did something we would both regret.I lied.The regret is already here, gnawing at the edges of everything I thought I had buried.She laughed at dinner.Not the polite, hollow sound the court makes. A real laugh —short, surprised, bright as a blade.It caught me off guard so completely I nearly dropped my glass.I have not heard anyone laugh like that in centuries.I hate her for it.I hate myself more for noticing.I finally force my feet to move.The corridors are empty, silver torches flickering low. My boots echo too loud. Shadows trail me like obedient hounds.Except one.One shadow lingers at the corner where her corridor branches off, stretching longer than it should, darker than the rest.I stop.It does not.I narrow my eyes.“Return,” I command.The shadow quiv

‎The Long Table ‎Elara ‎The evening after the court confrontation‎Lyriel leads me back to the chambers she prepared earlier —the ones with the starlit bath and midnight silk bed. Sael, the fox cub, trots at my heels, yipping every time his tiny paws slip on the polished obsidian floor.‎The door shuts behind us.‎I lean against it and finally let my knees shake.‎Lyriel watches me with those fractured-glass eyes, wings folded tight.‎“You were magnificent,” she says quietly. “Reckless. But magnificent.”‎I laugh, it comes out brittle.‎“Magnificent gets me threatened with ruin and ashes.”‎She tilts her head. “It also gets you noticed. The court has not been this alive in centuries.”‎Before I can answer, lightning crackles in the air.‎Mireth materializes in the middle of the room, hair wilder than before, smelling of ozone and satisfaction.‎“My ferocious girl!” she crows, sweeping me into a hug that smells like rain on hot stone. “The entire kingdom is talking about you. You cal

Damned Traditions.Elara—I wake to lightning and fresh bread.The door is wide open. Violet dawn spills across moonflowers that weren’t there when I fell asleep. A woman stands in the doorway balancing a silver tray like she’s about to declare war with pastries.Tall, wild silver-black hair crackling, eyes like colliding galaxies, gown made of living stormclouds.“Good morning, my ferocious little star!” she sings. “I am Mireth, queen of this gloomy pile, and your new mother whether you like it or not. Eat before you faint and ruin my plans.”I sit up slowly. “You’re the queen?”“Guilty. Also part-time goddess of minor chaos. Sit. Eat. Tell me how you made moonflowers grow in a tomb.”She notices the bruises on my wrists.Lightning snaps across her knuckles.“Who chained you?” she asks, voice suddenly soft and deadly.“Everyone,” I answer.“Names,” she says. “I collect them for kindling.”I spill everything —throne room, blood ritual, my father’s new title, Seraphine’s engagement, t

CAGED.Draven’s POVI have done this ninety-nine times.Ninety-nine cages rolled through my gates.Ninety-nine trembling girls in white.Ninety-nine times I have looked at them and seen Aveline’s ghost wearing a new face.Tonight is the hundredth.And I am already breaking.I stand on the balcony of the west wing, claws digging into obsidian stone hard enough to leave grooves. Below, the procession winds through the outer courtyard like a funeral made of moonlight. The cage-wagon is beautiful (black iron gilded to hide the bars). The girl inside is a blade of ivory and silver fury.I watched her arrive.I watched her lift her chin and tell me to kill her quickly.I laughed —gods help me, I laughed because no one has ever looked at me like that. Not in a thousand years.Not since Aveline begged me to run with her instead.I sent the girl to the worst room because I am a coward.The west wing is a ruin (walls cracked from the last time Kael and I tried to murder each other, windows shat

Chapter 8Kingdom Of Eldoria ElaraNine days.Nine days in a stone box beneath Highmont Palace where the only light is a torch that never quite reaches the corners.Nine days of chains that burn cold, of water that tastes of rust, of bread hard enough to break teeth.Nine days of silence so complete I start talking to the black scale just to remember my own voice.It answers, sometimes.Not in words. In heat. In pressure against my ribs like a second heart trying to crawl out.I keep replaying the throne room.Every face. Every cheer. Every lie.Most of all, I replay my family.Father’s voice, ringing false: My daughter volunteers herself…Mother’s perfect tears that never smudged her paint.Seraphine’s sapphire tiara already gleaming in her hair like she was born to wear it.Isla whispering my name until the doors shut.On the fourth day a guard shoves a broadsheet under the cell door.I unroll it with shaking fingers.The headline is in letters an inch tall:GENERAL WYNNE APPOINTE

LOLA’S POV I had changed my outfit three times trying so hard to decide from the dresses he had bought for me before settling for the short black dress. I was beginning to think Aleksei Volkov was personally responsible for my sudden inability to make simple decisions. All because of one message. 'Be ready tonight'. That was what he had sent me earlier, followed by absolutely no explanation when I asked where we were going. I had tried calling him, but he simply told me to pick anyone of my choice and hung up before I could ask him properly. Typical Aleksei. The man could coordinate business deals across continents, manage a criminal empire and probably arrange for someone to disappear without breaking a sweat, but communicating with his girlfriend was apparently a task beyond his abilities. My phone buzzed on the bed. Aleksei: I'm outside. I grabbed my handbag, slipped into my heels and hurried downstairs. My make-up was already done. I opted to do something light with my f

INGRID.‎For a moment, I simply stared at the black duffel bag sitting beside my mother.‎‎My heart gave an almost childish little jump.‎‎She actually did it.‎‎She actually brought the money.‎‎I looked up at her, ready to see the smug satisfaction of someone who had just saved my life, but instead, I found something else in her eyes.‎‎Fear.‎‎Not fear of me.‎‎Fear for me.‎‎Her gaze moved slowly over my body, taking in the bloodstained clothes, my bruised wrists, the dirt covering my bare feet and finally, my hair.‎‎I almost forgot about it.‎‎My blonde hair had always been one of the few things I took pride in. Now it was tangled into thick, matted clumps, with strands stuck together by dried blood.‎‎My mother's lips parted.‎‎“Oh, Ingrid…”‎‎I rolled my eyes.‎‎“Don't.”‎‎She ignored me.‎‎“Oh my God, look at you.”‎‎“Mother.”‎‎She stood up so quickly that the chair scraped against the floor.‎‎“What did they do to you?”‎‎“Nothing I couldn't handle.”‎‎

The Weight Of What We Leave BehindNORA’S POVTWO DAYS LATER…I found myself sitting on a wooden bench in the middle of the local park, watching strangers with my cardigan draped around my shoulders. I was waiting for Maxim’s arrival.I spotted a little girl chasing a butterfly while her mother watched her. An elderly couple sat beneath a large willow tree. They looked cute together. Makes me wonder how my life would turn out when I grow old.Everything around me felt…normal. Painfully normal. And I hated it. A part of me was telling me to back out. That there was no point in listening to whatever he had to say. But another part of me really wanted to know why. I had chosen this place deliberately. After speaking to Cole this morning, I had decided that if I was going to meet Maxim, I’d rather do so in public. I needed to know that I could walk away when it gets too overwhelming without feeling guilty. I needed to feel like I still had control over the situation.Cole had agreed wit

(SHORT DISCLAIMER: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT🔞)LOLA'S POV.🔞I love you.The words still hung between us in the middle of my living room, heavy and real. Aleksei’s hands stayed on my face, thumbs brushing the edges of my cheekbones like he was trying to memorize the shape of me. His eyes were darker than usual, pupils blown wide, and for a second I thought he might pull away again, the way he always did when things got too close. Instead he kissed me harder, mouth open and hungry, and the low sound he made against my lips went straight through me.I pushed at his chest, not hard enough to stop him, just enough to walk him backward until the backs of his knees hit the couch. He sat without protest, watching me with that sharp, focused look that always made my stomach flip. I climbed into his lap, knees on either side of his thighs, and felt the solid heat of him through his jeans. My nightshirt had ridden up; the bare skin of my thighs pressed against the rough de

‎THIRD PERSON POV‎NORA‎‎The first thing Nora remembered when she opened her eyes the next morning was the memories of yesterday flooding in.‎She groaned in discomfort as she rolled on the bed, trying to block the sunlight from her face.‎The second thing that came to her mind was that he was alive.‎‎Maxim Romanov was alive.‎‎And he was coming to Houston soon.‎‎Nora stared at the ceiling, completely still as yesterday's memories came rushing back. The bakery. Cole's visit and now Elias's new job.‎Her head was still pounding slightly from the wine they had last night and she could already feel a migraine setting in.‎‎She turned onto her side and reached for her phone.‎‎7:06 a.m.‎‎She sighed.‎‎There was no point pretending yesterday hadn't happened.‎‎Then she remembered that she hadn't told Elias yet and he was leaving for work soon.‎‎Hurriedly, she got out of bed, almost crashing to the floor. She grabbed the card off the table, along with her phone and headed d

‎Nora's POV‎‎The morning rush at the bakery was always my favorite.‎‎By eight in the morning, the place was already filled with the smell of freshly baked bread, cinnamon rolls, buttercream and coffee, with the soft hum of conversations blending with the occasional ringing of the little bell above the entrance. Sunlight poured through the large windows at the front, making the glass display cases sparkle as customers moved from one pastry to another, trying to decide what they wanted. I stood behind the counter with a smile plastered across my face as I handed a small paper bag to the young girl standing in front of me. She couldn't have been more than sixteen, her cheer uniform slightly wrinkled and a backpack hanging from one shoulder.‎‎“Here's your strawberry croissant and iced chocolate.”‎‎Her face immediately brightened.‎‎“Thank you!”‎‎“You're welcome. Have a good day.”‎‎She smiled before turning toward the door.‎‎And then the bell rang again.‎‎I looked up.‎‎