Novels by Ify Francis

Chelsea chose a simple, blue flowery dress for the occasion—decent, modest, and fitting for a brisk Sunday afternoon. As she had explicitly made clear to Eugene before leaving the house, she was merely meeting Davis to have "a talk," exactly as he had termed it. And she was utterly determined to keep it strictly at that. No matter how gentle, cooperative, or reformed he appeared, she couldn't afford to lower her guard. At his core, he was still a Dylan, backed by a formidable corporate force and the unlimited resources required to launch a devastating custody battle if he so chose.A ten-minute drive brought her to the Gold Light Open-Air Restaurant, the establishment Davis had selected for their meeting. Perched high on a rocky bluff, the terrace offered a breathtaking, panoramic view overlooking the restless ocean.When Chelsea stepped onto the wooden deck, she did a quick scan of the patrons and spotted him immediately. Amidst the low hum of sea breeze and chatter, Davis was hard t

"Hey, Gen." Chelsea waved at Eugene with a rigid, overly cheerful smile.Eugene’s eyes flicked from the bare chest of the towering stranger to Chelsea’s flushed face. He managed a stiff, nervous smile, but the atmosphere in the laundry room curdled instantly into a dense, suffocating silence.Panicking, Chelsea snatched the faded t-shirt from Davis’s hands. "I... I should press your shirt a little," she babbled, her voice hitting a sharp, unnatural pitch. She turned on her heel and practically fled down the hallway, her sneakers squeaking against the floor.The moment she was around the corner and out of line of sight, Chelsea leaned her back against the wall and let out a long, ragged wheeze. What the hell was going on? How on earth had she not heard Eugene open the front door? And why did it have to be today, of all days? Every instinct screamed at her not to leave the two men alone in a cramped laundry room, but she simply couldn't stand the unbearable awkwardness for another secon

Evans stepped into the narrow hall, carefully balancing two steaming mugs of black coffee, and set them down on the low wooden table. He sank onto the worn sofa across from Davis, the springs groaning beneath his weight.Davis slowly straightened his posture, adjusting to the sudden stillness of the room. "Mr. Evans," he began quietly, his tone laced with a deference he hadn't known he possessed a year ago.It struck Evans as intensely surreal. A little over twelve months ago, he had been just another line-item employee on the payroll of this young man’s vast corporate empire—working hours without Davis ever knowing his name. Now, by some twisted turn of fate, he was the grandfather to Davis Dylan’s child.The last time Evans had heard from the Dylan family was during those chaotic weeks following Chelsea’s sudden disappearance from New York. He had promised Davis he would make contact the moment he tracked her down, largely because he had seen the genuine, raw agony in the young exec

"Dad, he was about to leave," Chelsea protested, her voice tight with exasperation."Oh, sorry," Evans stammered, his gaze darting awkwardly between his daughter and Davis. The air in the narrow hallway was suffocatingly dense."I'd like to stay for coffee, sir. Thank you very much," Davis said firmly, his deep voice leaving no room for argument as he deliberately ignored Chelsea’s burning glare.Before Chelsea could fire back another refusal, a soft, preliminary purr echoed from the back bedroom, rapidly escalating into a full-throated, earsplitting shriek. The peaceful nap was officially over. Evans let out a quiet curse and quickly dashed down the hall to retrieve his granddaughter.Chelsea moaned in frustration, dropping her chin toward her chest. Beside her, Davis felt the sharp edge of his defiance instantly evaporate, replaced by a sudden, violent thrumming in his throat at the sound of the infant's distress.Moments later, Evans emerged from the hallway cradling a plump, red-f

After hours of inconsolable shrieking, little Susanne had finally succumbed to exhaustion. Evans had gently tucked her into her wooden cot, smoothing the soft blanket over her small shoulders before creeping back out to the kitchen.Chelsea sat at the small kitchen table, closed her eyes slowly, and inhaled the quiet air. These were the grueling, invisible hours where being a single mother dragged her straight to the precipice. Her face felt tight, stiffened by dry streaks of tears. Crying alongside her daughter was often all she could do when the colic flared, leaving her feeling utterly clueless and pathetically helpless.The silence settling over the shingled cottage was a pure, unadulterated bliss. She was going to give it ten minutes—just ten quiet minutes to let Susanne sink into deep sleep—before she changed into her uniform and left for her night shift. She knew how incredibly lucky she was that Eugene was her boss, granting her an extraordinary level of flexibility that no co

The sharp hiss of the pneumatic doors announced the stop, and Davis stepped down from the coast liner, the cool damp air of the evening cutting through his clothes. The bus rattled off into the twilight, leaving him on the curb with a handful of other weary passengers.He took a slow breath, pulling his hoodie tight around his neck. For a man who was used to black-car services and private drivers, riding public transit in a small town was a stark reality check. But keeping a low profile was necessary.....Was it? Chelsea had already spotted him—worse, she’d slept with him, played him like a fool, and slipped out before dawn. But if he started driving high-end rental cars around her quiet neighborhood, she would go to ground completely. He had to stay invisible until he was ready to strike.As he walked down the dimly lit pavement toward the guest house, his mind betrayed him, looping back to the night before. God, she was beautiful. The memory of her skin beneath his hands, the way s