Novels by Nk Specials

THIRD PERSON POVHailey hadn’t expected to see Dorian that night. She had barely stepped away from her mother’s side when his familiar scent reached her sharp cologne and something warm, like smoke and citrus. He looked effortlessly charming as usual, his dark hair slicked back, his suit tailored to perfection. He was standing in the midst of about eight young beautiful ladies, each of them exquisitely dressed. When his gaze found hers across the ballroom, he smirked, the kind of smirk that always got him into trouble.“Hailey Carter,” he said, his tone teasing as he walked over. “Looking like sin in heels tonight. You trying to kill a few hearts?”She rolled her eyes, though a small smile played on her lips. “You’re late.”“Fashionably,” he said with a wink. “Where’s the groom-to-be? Brooding in a corner somewhere?”“Don’t start,” she warned but she smiled warmly.But Dorian’s smirk faded when she slipped the small folded note from her clutch and handed it to him discreetly. His expr

Hailey’s POVSince the brunch, I haven't stepped outside my house and the silence was beginning to drive me insane.Three whole days and not a word from Santino Blackwood. No calls. No messages. Not like I actually wanted to talk to him. It felt strange, like I was waiting for something I shouldn’t be waiting for. Like standing in the middle of a storm that refused to happen.My phone lay face down on the bed beside me. I stared at it for too long before pushing it away. “Pathetic,” I muttered.I sat in front of my vanity, watching my reflection as my stylist pinned the last strand of my hair into a sleek twist.Tonight was another one of those ridiculous fancy events my father lived for. A “charity gala” filled with rich men pretending to care and women pretending to smile. The whole elite circle would be there and so would Santino.I didn’t want to go, but my father had ordered it. And in our house, orders weren’t suggestions.“Miss Hailey, your dress is ready,” the maid said softly

Hailey’s POVThe house was quiet when I returned. The kind of quiet that made the walls feel alive, listening, waiting for someone to slip.I stood by the main door, my shoes in my hand, my heart racing like a criminal sneaking into a vault. The clock above the hallway ticked softly 2:47 a.m. I winced. My father’s guards were probably asleep by now, but I couldn’t take chances. One wrong creak and I’d be dead before dawn, at least socially.I tiptoed across the marble floor, the cold seeping into my bare feet. Every sound felt too loud the click of my ring against the doorframe. I passed the living room, still smelling faintly of cigar smoke and oak polish, then hurried up the staircase, clutching my heels like they were weapons.When I reached my door, I exhaled slowly, fingers trembling as I turned the handle. The familiar scent of my vanilla candles greeted me. Safe. Finally.I dropped my shoes, peeled off my nightdress, and collapsed face-first onto the bed. The night replayed in

My father’s voice echoed through the hall. “Hailey! Why aren’t you dressed? You have appointments today!”I groaned, rubbing my temple. “Appointments for what? My funeral?”He appeared at the bottom of the staircase, sharp in his suit even though it was just noon. His face was red already. “For your dress fitting, makeup testing, jewelry consultations-..”I cut him off. “You make it sound like I’m marrying the president.”He glared. “You’re marrying a Blackwood. That’s higher.”I made a face. “Yay, lucky me.”“Hailey!” he barked, but I was already walking back to my room, pretending not to hear.When I got inside, I slammed the door and flopped onto the bed. Every inch of my room smelled like roses now because the maids thought it was “fitting for the occasion.” I hated roses. They looked pretty but had thorns just like this stupid life.My phone buzzed. Lila: You alive or buried under wedding cake samples yet?I smirked, typing back. Barely breathing. Save me before I choke on fake h

~HAILEY POV~Dinner ended on a sour note, like a bitter aftertaste that refused to leave my tongue. My father’s patience had snapped like a rope stretched too tight. I knew when we got home it would be me who paid for it. But right there at the table, I still couldn’t bring myself to care. My stubbornness was louder than fear, for now at least.Santino, oh so gracious in his fine suit, escorted us to the front door like he was a polite gentleman. His steps were slow, confident, too smooth, like a predator pretending to be harmless. His gaze kept sliding to me, snapping quick, staying for a second too long before he looked away. It made the hairs on my arms stand up, like he could see too much of me.When he finally spoke, his voice was velvety.“Mr Carter,” he said, turning to my father. His eyes were quick, but the lazy smile pulling at his mouth told me his words would sting.“As you’ve seen tonight, your daughter lacks the bearing and manners fit for the daughter-in-law of the p

~SANTINO’S POV~She was a wildfire. Loud. Messy. Untamed. Not the quiet, naïve girl I had been promised. Not the small, soft thing her father thought he could hand to me with a bow.Everyone in the room feared me. They lowered their voices when I walked in. They chose their words carefully,They treated me like a god to worship. That was how it worked in my world. Respect was currency. Fear was safety.Not Hailey Carter.She insulted my chandelier. She mocked the soup. She chewed her steak like she was ready for a fight. She spoke first, loudest. She did not bow. She did not flinch. For some strange reason, that did not displease me. It felt rather refreshing.I lifted my wine glass, because that’s what men like me did. We lift glasses and we measure people in the way they hold their forks. “You’re very unrefined,” I said.She gave me a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you.” Short. Dry. Like I wasn’t worth talking to.The nerve of her. That tongue. Those bright eyes that dared me to step