Novels by qeturaintimateapparel

Who Am I?Igor PovThe morning light shines through the high windows of the mansion, brightening the house. I stand at the glass, a cup of untouched coffee in my hand, and stare at the perfect lawn. The world outside is as meticulously ordered as the one I've built. The wealth, the status, the power, it’s all a perfectly constructed life.A sigh escapes me, a hollow sound that seems to get swallowed by the quiet space. I should feel something. Contentment, satisfaction, a sense of accomplishment. But all I feel is a gnawing emptiness. The memory of that night returns, a vivid, jarring color. A club, a boy, a moment of reckless, unthinking abandon. It was raw, honest, and utterly real. For the first time in what feels like a lifetime, I felt something. The shame is a cold wave, crashing over me. A married man. For heaven's sake, I'm a man who has built a life on discipline and control, and I threw it all away for a stranger in a dark room.“Darling,” a voice, as cool as the floors, ca

That Same Blue EyesKillian PovThe engine hums a steady rhythm beneath my hands. The leather of the steering wheel feels cool and smooth, a big difference to the heat that still crawls beneath my skin, the constant reminder of a night I’m desperately trying to erase. Serena sits in the passenger seat beside me, her phone in her hand, scrolling through an endless stream of updates. She is a picture of serene perfection, her hair a flawless cascade of waves, her outfit a designer masterpiece. We are a perfectly assembled couple, a photograph waiting to be taken, and the quiet tension in the car is the only thing that proves we are real.“Did your father call you this morning?” she asks, her voice airy and light, completely oblivious to my inner turmoil.I flinch, a tiny, almost unnoticed movement. “Yeah. A few times.” I keep my eyes on the road, watching the trees pass by.She laughs, a sound so perfect “Of course. You know how he gets. He just wants everything to go smoothly. My pare

The Imperfect SonKillian PovEverywhere I look, people are watching. The bouncers at the door give me a knowing stare, their silence a more powerful judgment than any words could be. A woman in a neat, professional outfit, waiting for a taxi, glances at me, her eyes lingering for just a second too long before she looks away with a flicker of polite disgust. I'm a mess. My hair is a tangled wreck, my shirt is rumpled, and the scent of another man is on my skin. I feel their eyes on my back as I walk away.My phone buzzes in my pocket, vibrating against my leg. Once, twice, then a third time. I already know who it is. Missed calls, texts piling up. It’s my father. The thought of his name sends a jolt of pure fear through me, followed by a wave of white-hot anger. He’s already calling. He doesn’t wait. He needs to make sure I haven't strayed from the path he so carefully paved for me. Remember to be charming. Don't be late. The Millers are important. His words flash through my mind, a c

Killian PovThe slam of the study door is always a prelude to the silence that follows. My father, Mr. Hayes, never shouts. His voice is a low rumble, a controlled pressure. Today’s monologue is particularly short and brutal."The Millers' daughter, Serena. Her father's company is key to the new project. We're having dinner with them tomorrow evening. You will be there. And you will be charming."He doesn’t wait for a response. He never does. My existence is a series of commands, and my role is to obey. I watch him stride down the hallway, a perfect man who owns everything, including me. The house, usually a quiet tomb of marble and expensive furniture, feels even more hollow in his absence. I exhale, a breath I don't realize I'm holding.My hand instinctively goes for my phone. There is only one person who can pierce the cold loneliness of this house. I dial Leo’s number, and his voice, loud and full of life, is a welcome burst of reality."Yo, man! You good?" he asks, a familiar ene