Novel-novel oleh Creative inks

~~ETHAN WILDER~~I sat in my room for hours that night, tracing the ink on Sarah’s card. That small piece of paper became my hopeTrue to her word, Sarah didn’t just show me art when I finally gathered the courage to visit her a week later; she showed me the truth. It turned out that the "debt" Lenore claimed I owed was a fabrication. Sarah used her connections to dig into the hospital records from four years ago. Lenore hadn't saved my life from the fire, she had simply found me, an amnesiac with a gifted hand, and claimed me before anyone else could.Sarah was the one who provided the legal team to break the predatory contracts Lenore made me sign. She was the architect of my freedom. Â freedom she later took back from me. Time does have a cruel way of changing people.*PRESENT DAY*The plush silence of my executive office at the Phoenix Empire felt a world away from that cramped, dusty studio. I looked down at my thumb. The scar from the splinter was gone, but the memory of her si

ETHAN WILDERThe art gallery was suffocating. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume, aged wine, and the pretentious hum of people who bought art to match their sofas.I stood in the corner, dressed in a suit Lenore had picked out, one that fit well but felt like a cage. My job was simple: stand still, look "mysterious," and let Lenore do the talking. She had introduced me as her "assistant," the man who helped with the "preparation" of her masterpieces."Smile, Ethan," Lenore whispered, her hand gripping my arm with surprising strength as a group of critics walked by. "You look like you’re at a funeral.""I’m just tired, Lenore," I murmured. My stomach was still hollow, despite the trays of hors d'oeuvres circling the room. I wasn't allowed to touch them; it would look "unprofessional.""Adjust the lighting on the centerpiece and then disappear to the back," she ordered, spotting a wealthy donor across the room. She glided away before I could respond.I walked toward t

~~YEARS EARLIER~~“The car. It’s getting out of control. Do something !” a panicked voice growled from the passenger’s seatThe driver gripped the gear tightly and slammed his feet on the brake. “I am trying!! Nothing seems to be working!” He yelped. “Make it work!” A feminine voice screeched. “There’s no fucking way I am losing it all due to your carelessness, Amos”“I am trying ma’am. The vehicle must have been tampered with at the garage. Something is off. None of the controls seems to be working” the driver, now frustrated, screamed back“What do we d….”Words trailed off and everything happened in a blink. Tires screeched, glass shattered, agony screams filled the air and fire broke out, incinerating everything in the way almost immediately.“Somebody Help!” Â desperate cry of helo, filled with agony but we knew it’s all pointless. Help can’t arrive as quickly as we need it. So fate was accepted. A defeaning silence followed afterwards except for the crackle. ~~ETHAN~~I sta

~~CAROLINE~~I stayed in the mansion until the shadows grew long and the house finally fell into silence. My uncles had eventually left, though I knew they were only retreating to their respective corners to call their lawyers.None of them would accept that easily. My parents had left to their own hone after I assured them about a hundred times I'd be good on my own. I just needed time to be alone, time to grief a loss I greatly feel. I picked up the paper Harrison had left. Damian’s signature was still there. It was all real. "Twelve years," I whispered to the empty front room.I remembered the rain. I remembered the sound of his apartment door clicking shut behind me. Most of all, I remembered the look in his eyes, zero remorse and a terrifying indifference. That indifference had shattered me, it took me years to barely recover from it and the aftermath still clung. The failed relationships that followed can as well be traced to it. A heavy knock at the front door startled me.

~~ MAYA CAROLINE~~The funeral was held two days after, on a Sunday afternoon. Pete was a known man and the turnout reflected it. His four children; David and his three siblings, Marcus, Edward and Clement stood in a somber line. Pete never had a daughter and even as grandchildren, it is just me.I stood behind them, a black veil obscuring my eyes from the people that were present. I watched my uncles dab at their eyes, but I couldn't help but notice the way their eyes smiled as they glanced they cast toward the casket. The priest’s voice soon rose in a short prayer."Dust to dust," he murmured, "We entrust our brother, Pete, to the mercy of the Creator, in the sure and certain hope of the resurrection."As the casket began its slow descent into the earth, I watched my uncles. They stood stiffly, their shoulders hunched in a display of grief that didn't quite reach their posture. The corny smiles I had seen earlier were now tucked behind pressed handkerchiefs.The moment the fi

~~MAYA CAROLINE~~~I stepped off the plane from Asheville into Erice. The familiarity of this town welcomed me. How long had it been? Three years? Perhaps four. A black sedan pulled right next to me. I recognized it. My driver alighted to help me with the luggage I held. "Welcome back, Miss Caroline"I gave a lopsided smile. "Well, thank you, Eric"I pulled my fur coat tighter around my body as a chilling wind blew past. I boarded the passenger's seat once he was done setting the luggage in the boot of the car.The drive home was silent, which I appreciated. Time to recollect my thoughts, practice an answer to a question I know would be prevalent in today's discussion with family.As the car pulled into the familiar gravel driveway, the porch light flickered on, casting a warm, amber glow over the dusting of snow.Before I could even alight the car, the front door swung open. My father stepped out without a coat, followed closely by my mother. They had the brightest smile on thei

CHAPTER 4 ~~Matteo Rossi~~ The drive all the way to the cemetery was quiet. I appreciated that Marco didn’t try to involve me in any cliche discussion. “Just drop me at the main gate” I said to him when we were close enough to the funeral home. He did as told, pulled up to the wrought iron gates and halted the car right there. Raindrops were already beginning to speckle the windshield. “I’ll wait here, sir,” Marco said. “No. Go home. I’ll call a cab,” I lied. I wanted him gone. I needed this space to be truly alone Marco hesitated, concern etched around his mouth. “Mr. Rossi, with the weather turning… and your father…” “Go,” I ordered, flatly. The finality in my tone gave room for no argument. He nodded once, acknowledging the dismissal, and watched me until I stepped onto the wet pavement. Only then did the car pull away. I walked toward the marble mausoleum where Joe rested. I reached the stone bench facing the grave, the engraved name, Joseph Almonte, blur

Chapter 3 “He says you have to meet someone, Matteo,” my chauffeur pronounced, his persistence grated on my nerves. “It’s Eleanor Benett. Your arranged bride.” The words struck me. The name too familiar that I wish I'd heard nothing about it. “No,” I whispered "No. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not meeting anyone.” I started towards the double doors to the operating theatre, my legs moving on their own, by am instinct to go see him. To deny the surgeon’s brutal truth. My chauffeur moved faster. He stepped in front of the doors, blocking my path, his stance immovable. “Mr. Rossi. Please. Your father’s orders are absolute.” “My father can go to hell!” I roared, the pain finally exploding into fury. My hands balled into fists, trembling. “Joseph is dead, Marco! Dead! And you want me to go meet some… some bride? Get out of my way!” I lunged, not to fight him, but to push past, to force my way back into that sroom. Marco caught my arms, his grip firm but careful. He was trying to r

CHAPTER 2 The high pitched shriek of the ambulance was the first thing that welcomed me when we arrived the hospital. The car screeched to a halt. I didn't wait for the door to be opened. I flung it open myself, stumbling out into the hospital air. The air was thick with the sterile scent of antiseptic. I stood for a paralyzing moment, disoriented. I fell through the automatic doors and into a brightly lit reception area. My legs felt wobbly as I staggered to the main desk, gripping the counter so hard my knuckles turned white. A woman with tired eyes and a name badge reading ‘Brenda’ looked up, her gaze expectant “I’m here for Joseph Almonte,” I managed to say, my voice a hoarse croak. I barely recognized it as my own. “He… he was in an accident.” Brenda tapped a few keys on her keyboard, her eyes skimming the screen. “Yes, Mr. Almonte. You’re the emergency contact, Mr. Rossi?” I nodded, impatience making my whole body vibrate. “Where is he? Tell me where he is!” She r

PROLOGUE I had buried Joe. I had told my father no. I had chosen the cemetery over my arranged bride. I felt nothing. I’d lost everything that gave my life meaning in the span of a single night; the very night of my third anniversary. So, when that hand clamped over my mouth, muffling my protest, my instinct should have been to fight, to claw my way out of that grip. But I barely tried. When he called himself Rowan Hayes, when he spoke of my father and my arranged bride, it struck me: This man is Chaos, Hatred, and Ruin all in one. He wanted to destroy me. And in that moment, watching the sedative hiss toward my face, a shameful thought surfaced: Maybe I want to feel something. Something other than the silence. I let the darkness take me, yielding to the ruin he promised. I had nothing left to lose. Let him ruin me. I long to see what kind of darkness he intends to bring to my already wrecked life. CHAPTER 1 ~~MATTEO~~ I glanced around the restaurant, taking in every