Novels by Nicole Ruby

Dominic's POVIarrive at the Grand Arcadia Ballroom at about eight. Chandeliers shine like stars in the sky. Guests dressed in evening gowns and tuxedos walk by in the room. Perfume and champagne perfume the air. I search the room for Elena.I see her standing next to the string quartet. She is standing next to an extended table, her right hand holding a flute of water that glistens. Her gray gown is more becoming on her now. She appears serene, but I can observe the look of uncertainty in her eyes.I approach her. My heels rap against the marble floor. Percival hangs back politely. He looks at his phone and gives me a nod. Agenda for this evening: schmooze, schmooze with donors, show off our coalition.When I arrive at Elena's side, Giselle Van Dorn is standing next to her. Giselle wears emerald green and pearls that glint. She's smiling too brightly. Her eyes are glinting with a flash of sharpness."Elena," says Giselle, her voice honeyed.Elena's smile is courteous. "Thank you, Gis

Elena's POVI wake up to cold, snowy morning light seeping through the door, as if it has gone through ice. My head aches, beats, and my heart is racing too. I don't stir, hearing the hum of the air conditioner. I'm in Dominic's penthouse, in a bed that seems endless compared to any bed I've ever slept in. I take a deep breath and recall: this is now my life.I rest my feet on the bed and sit. Sheets are cool against my skin. Yesterday's gray dress is draped across a chair. I run my hand over the fabric and think of Percival's advice: "Dress for success. Confidence is derived from how you carry yourself."I comb and walk over to the mirror. My anxious and exhausted face stares back. I push my ponytail further back and comb out the front of my blouse. I breathe in deeply and remind myself, "You belong here."A soft beep against my ear informs me that it is Percival. "Good morning, Ms. Hart," he announces. He sounds calm and comforting. "I will wait for you in the study in ten minutes."

Dominic's POVI enter my office and stop at the doorway. Castillo is there, holding this morning's newspapers. He hands me a tabloid with a gilded headline: "Mrs. Blackwood Revealed as Gold Digger." My heart tightens. I turn to the feature. The story says Elena Hart wed me for wealth, cites anonymous sources, and features a blurred picture of her at the charity ball.I say, "Castillo, bring Percival.""Yes, sir."The door closes on Castillo. I pace the room. My desk is expansive and organized. My computer monitor is dark. The sunlight streams through the window behind me. I stare at the tabloid spread across the desk. My mind flashes.Percival appears in seconds, tie undone, eyes alert. "Sir?"I nod at the article. "Read this.".He takes the page and reads it. His brows knit together. "This is libelous. They have no source, no evidence."I shut my eyes. I remember Elena, alone in the penthouse reading this. I feel something like rage, but more biting. "We must do something."Percival

Elena's POVI wake up early, before my alarm. I lie there with my eyes fixed on the ceiling. My heart is beating in my ears, so fast. Today is the day I go to work as Dominic Blackwood's assistant. I go to bed, wear the grey skirt and white shirt Percival had laid out for me, and tie my hair into a neat ponytail. I attempt to look nonchalant in the mirror."Deep breaths," I say softly.I clip the earpiece onto my right ear. It makes a gentle click and Percival speaks. "Good morning, Ms. Hart. You have thirty minutes until you go out to the conference room. Follow my lead exactly.""I'm ready," I respond, trying not to quiver.I enter the hallway. Castillo, the guard, says hello. I nod and head in the direction of the elevator. The metal walls that mirror back at me remind me once again that I am not yet home in the old life. I exhale.The elevator door opens on the twenty-fifth floor. I emerge and regard the long hallway with glass on all sides. I remember Percival's directions: "Turn

Dominic's POVI woke up early, before the dawn appears, and leaned against the penthouse floor-to-ceiling window. City lights faded to a dim sparkle, and a cold wind battered the half-opened window. I glanced at my hand on the chilled glass. I remembered Elena Hart, the woman who had accepted to marry me. Twenty-four months of marriage. Two years living together in an apartment. I had no notion of what the future held.Softly the living room door knocked. I turned and approached it. Castillo, my chauffeur, came in bowing. Two bodyguards followed him. Castillo spoke softly to me. "Mr. Blackwood, Miss Hart has arrived.""Thanks," I replied. I turned and faced away from the windows to the center of the room. The marble floor numbed my socks. The interior design was modern and minimalist. White sofas, glass coffee tables, minimalist ornamentation. I loved the lack of clutter—it left room for my plans and no distractions.The door creaked open again. Elena entered, holding a single black s

Elena's POVI grip the steering wheel hard as my mom quietly gasps beside me. Her sweaty hand encloses around mine. "Nurse, please," she says in a tiny voice. "I'm so scared.""I know, Mom," I reply, trying to be ultracalm. "Breathe."The light is green. I speed down the city streets, my heart racing. I look over at the envelope on the passenger seat—hospital bill for undergoing the procedure, ten pages of numbers that I simply cannot afford. Later, in the hospital waiting room, I sit next to her bed in a chair. A nurse staples an IV tube into the bend of her elbow. I grasp her hand in mine."It will be fine," I say to him, my voice shaking.Dr. Mercer enters and opens the door. He looks at me. "Elena, the surgery is tomorrow morning. I wanted to let you know that it is not without risk.""I know," I answer. "Thanks, Doctor."Mom squeezes her hand around mine. I give a fake smile.I am waiting at the Grand Arcadia Hotel that evening for a benefit gala. I possess one white gown, nearl