Novels by Siyah Mcluxe

Elara's POV I followed Ian out of the fashion show and kept my distance, slipping behind a marble pillar in the corridor. My pulse was steady, trained to hide itself; my breath slow. From my hiding place I could hear him—low, flat—answering a call.“You need to hurry up with Camila,” his mother’s voice snapped. “You’re thirty-three. Do you think you’re still young? This isn’t the old days. Stop clinging to nonsense ideals. Marrying her will be good for our family’s reputation. You’re a businessman, Ian. You should know the benefits.”Her tone softened for one poisonous second. “As long as she can be a good wife, that’s enough.”My fists tightened. The same manipulation, the same woman who once praised me as the perfect daughter-in-law.Ian’s face didn’t move. “I know, Mum.”“You always say you know,” she said. “But you never act on it.”The call ended. Ian slid the phone into his pocket and exhaled. I ducked deeper behind the pillar, certain he’d sense something was off. I waited—the

Elara's POV “What are you thinking about, Mum?” Noah’s small voice pulled me from my thoughts.“Nothing much, dear,” I said softly, smiling at him. “I was just remembering the day I gave birth to my lovely triplets. I love you, my children.”“Mum,” Emily said, her eyes sparkling with mischief, “we know you’re going back to California, so we made some rules for you.”“Rules?” I raised a brow, laughing lightly as she handed me a folded piece of paper.“Yes,” Claire chimed in proudly. “These are the three golden rules — one from each of us. And don’t break any of them!”I smiled as I unfolded the paper. Their tiny handwriting made my heart swell.“The first rule,” I began, “says that I shouldn’t look at any other babies when I go to California.”They all giggled.“The second rule says… never give up on my job and keep working hard, as always.”Then I paused. My breath caught as I read the last line.“Why did you stop, Mum?” Noah urged.I swallowed hard and forced the words out. “The thi

Elara's POV My fingers trembled so hard I could barely unlock my phone. One deep breath. One last ounce of courage. Then I hit send — the recording, Ian’s confession, every single shred of betrayal he had thrown at me. I attached it all with a note that burned like poison on my tongue.> “Let’s see how calm you’ll stay when the world knows the truth, Ian.”A single tear slid down my cheek as the message whooshed away. My world was already in ruins, but at least this… this was my strike back. Let him feel the helplessness he made me live through.Just as I lowered the phone, another message came in.> “She is 3 weeks pregnant.”The words blurred.Pregnant.For a heartbeat, my body froze. Then it hit me like a tidal wave. I was carrying Ian’s child — the same man who had humiliated me in front of the world, who tossed me aside like I was nothing. A bitter laugh tore from my throat, cracked and hollow. Was this irony or punishment? I didn’t even know anymore.The wind was cold against m

Elara's POV The streetlight above me flickered, throwing broken shadows across the driveway as I stood there, gripping the divorce papers like they were the only thing keeping me from falling apart. My hands were shaking so badly the pages rustled in the night air. I don’t even remember the drive home. Just headlights and rain on the windshield and my reflection staring back at me — a woman who’d lost everything in one evening. I swallowed the lump in my throat and unlocked the front door. My heels clicked faintly on the marble floor, echoing through the too-quiet house. Karen, our housekeeper, appeared in the hallway, towel in hand, eyes wide. “Ma’am… you’re home early.” Her voice trembled. The towel twisted in her wrinkled fingers like she was trying to strangle the truth before it escaped. “Why do you look surprised?” I asked, my voice hoarse from crying in the car for hours. It sounded foreign, brittle. “I just didn’t expect you,” she stammered, glancing toward the

Elara's POV Where the fuck is he? I muttered to myself as I searched the Grand Hall for Ian, my diamond stilettos clicking sharply against the marble floor. Tonight was supposed to be special—our third anniversary and my twenty-fifth birthday. Ian had promised to make it a night I’d never forget. Well, he kept that promise. Just not in the way I expected. Guests laughed and clinked their glasses under the glittering chandelier. My eyes darted across the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of my husband—the man I had built my whole damn life around. The same man I once swore I’d love until my last breath. Earlier that evening, Ian had said, “Go on, babe. I’ll catch up shortly. Need to close my butterfly deal with Mr. Yan. His flight leaves tonight, and I can’t afford to lose a billion-dollar investment.” He’d brushed invisible dust off his lapel, kissed my cheek half-heartedly, and climbed into his car, leaving me standing there with confusion burning in my chest. Now, surrounded