Novels by ikeh Chimzaram

AriaI spent three days studying him. Luca woke at five every morning. Coffee, black. Thirty minutes in his private gym. Shower. Breakfast alone in his office while he reviewed reports. By seven, the meetings started, men in suits discussing shipments, territories, problems that needed solving.He was a creature of habit. Precise. Controlled. Predictable. And predictable meant vulnerable."Mrs. Moretti?" Elena appeared in the doorway of the library where I'd been pretending to read. "Mr. Moretti requests your presence at dinner tonight. He's entertaining business associates.""Tell him I'm not feeling well.""He said you'd say that." Elena's expression was sympathetic. "He also said it wasn't a request." Of course it wasn't.+++++++++++I chose my dress carefully, deep emerald silk that hugged every curve, the kind of weapon women have used since the beginning of time. If Luca wanted to parade me around like a trophy, I'd make sure I was worth looking at.The dining room glittered wit

AriaThe wedding dress arrived at dawn, delivered by silent staff who wouldn't meet my eyes. It was beautiful. I hated it immediately.White silk that probably cost more than a car, fitted perfectly to measurements I'd never given. Someone had been watching me, studying me, long before that night my world burned. The thought made my skin crawl."Mrs. Moretti?" A soft voice at the door. A woman in her fifties, dark hair pulled back severely. "I'm Elena. I'm here to help you prepare.""I don't need help.""Mr. Moretti insists." She stepped inside, carrying a makeup case. "The ceremony begins in three hours."Three hours until I became his wife. His property. His living trophy.I wanted to tear the dress to shreds. Instead, I let Elena work in silence, painting my face into a mask of bridal perfection. She was gentle, efficient, and completely unreadable. When she finished, I barely recognized the woman in the mirror."Beautiful," Elena murmured. Then, quieter: "I'm sorry." Before I coul

AriaThe Moretti mansion wasn't a home. It was a fortress disguised as one. High walls. Guard towers. Men with guns at every corner. As we drove through the iron gates, I counted at least a dozen security cameras tracking our movement. The building itself rose from the darkness like something out of a gothic nightmare, all sharp angles and cold stone windows that reflected nothing but blackness back at me. Beautiful. Soulless. Just like its owner.Luca hadn't spoken since we left my estate. He sat across from me in the car, perfectly still, watching me with those calculating eyes while I tried not to fall apart. The handcuffs bit into my wrists. My designer dress, the one I'd worn to dinner just hours ago, was torn at the hem, stained with ash and God knows what else.I wanted to scream. To cry. To claw his eyes out. Instead, I stared back at him, refusing to blink first. The car stopped. The door opened. Luca stepped out with fluid grace and extended his hand toward me like we were

Aria "Run, Aria! Run!"My father's voice cut through the night like a blade, raw and desperate in a way I'd never heard before. But my legs wouldn't move. I stood frozen in the marble foyer of our estate, watching smoke curl through the air like black serpents, watching our world come apart at the seams.Gunfire cracked somewhere in the east wing. Glass shattered. A woman screamed, Maria, maybe, or one of the other staff. My heart hammered so hard I could taste it in my throat, metallic and sharp."Papa..""Go!" He grabbed my shoulders, his fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. His eyes were wild, darting between me and the heavy oak doors behind us. Blood streaked across his shirt collar, not his own, I thought, but I couldn't be sure. "Take the north passage. Don't look back. Don't.."The doors exploded inward. I stumbled backward, my father's hands torn from my shoulders as armed men poured into our home like a flood. Black tactical gear. Weapons raised. Cold, efficient, unsto