Novels by Miss Robb

One year later.The house smells like vanilla cake and fresh flowers. Balloons are everywhere — gold, white, soft blue because apparently Alexander believes first birthdays should look like royal coronations.**********Baby Liam is sitting on the grass in the garden, smearing frosting all over his little tuxedo onesie like he owns the world. Which, honestly, he kinda does.Clara stands a few feet away, heels kicked off, holding a glass of champagne she hasn’t touched. She’s watching her son laugh — that deep belly giggle that makes his eyes squeeze shut — and for a second, everything just feels… still.Peaceful, and earned.It wasn’t always like this.A year ago, she was fighting for her life. Fighting for her company. Fighting for her child before he even took his first breath.Now?Now she’s CEO of Langford Group — and not the cold, iron-fist version people expected. She leads with balance. With empathy. She rebuilt the company brick by brick, cleaned out the corruption,

When Clara opened her eyes, everything felt heavy.Like her body had run a marathon without asking her permission.The lights above her were softer than she expected. The air smelled like antiseptic and something clean. She blinked slowly, trying to remember where she was.The last thing she remembered was gunshots at her wedding and her water broke.She tried to move and immediately felt the weakness in her limbs. Her throat was dry. Her voice barely came out.“Alex…”He was there instantly.He must have been watching her the whole time because he stood up so fast the chair behind him scraped against the floor.“I’m here. I’m right here babygirl.His face looked wrecked. Eyes red. Beard slightly messy. Still in that wrinkled wedding suit.She tried to read his expression.“Is…?” She couldn’t even finish the sentence.He didn’t make her.He turned carefully and nodded toward the nurse standing nearby.“Bring him.”Her breath caught, her eyes began to water immediately.The nur

“Alex… the baby…” Clara cried out Her voice wasn’t loud. It was worse than loud, it was very scary. And that was what shattered him. Another contraction ripped through her and she cried out, He caught her before she hit the marble floor, his white wedding jacket instantly stained where her body pressed against him. ********** “Call an ambulance!” someone screamed. “I already did!” Kacey yelled back, her voice shaking for the first time since Clara had known her. Eleanor was frozen for half a second. Then she moved, gripping Clara’s hand. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Breathe. Just breathe.” Clara’s fingers dug into Alex’s arm so hard he felt the sting through the fabric. “It hurts—” “I know. I know,” he kept saying, even though he didn’t know anything. His brain was static. His heart was beating so violently he could hear it in his ears. Sirens wailed in the distance. Guests were ushered out. Police still lingering. The wedding hall that had been filled

********** The sun slanted low across the horizon, painting the wedding hall in gold and rose. Every detail gleamed—the velvet ribbons on the chairs, the cascading floral arrangements, the soft sound of the string quartet tucked in the corner. Guests whispered in excitement, their faces bright, unaware of the storm that had been brewing just outside the manicured gates. Clara Langford stepped into the aisle, her heart hammering in rhythm with the soft music. She felt the silk of her gown brush against her thighs, the lace hugging her like a whisper of protection. Every step was deliberate, measured, but inside, she was shaking like the first time she’d ever walked into a boardroom and held the weight of her father’s empire on her shoulders. Only this time… this time it was different. She wasn’t walking alone. Eleanor’s hand trembled against her cheek as she dabbed at the tears brimming in her eyes. “My baby… my beautiful girl,” she whispered, voice breaking, “look at you.” Cla

Alexander Robert should’ve known better. The moment Marcus texted, “Bro, wear something decent tonight. We’re kidnapping you.” He should’ve suspected chaos. But he didn’t. He thought maybe a quiet dinner. Maybe cigars. Maybe some embarrassing speeches about how he used to be a menace in college. He did not expect flashing the pounding bass that shook his bones, and a VIP section screaming his name like he’d just won a championship. ********* “WELCOME TO FREEDOM!” Leo yelled as they shoved him through the doors of an exclusive underground club. Alex blinked at the scene. Bottle service. Music loud enough to erase brain cells. Women dancing on elevated platforms. His friends grinning like absolute idiots. “You’re getting married in five days dude” Marcus shouted over the music. “This is your last night as a free man!” ******** Alex laughed despite himself. “I haven’t been free since Clara walked into my life.” “Shut up,” Damien said. “Tonight you’re single

Kacey didn’t knock.She never knocked.The front door flew open like the house belonged to her and she stormed in still in her work heels, sunglasses perched dramatically on her head.**********“Bridezilla!” she shouted. “Where are you? Put on a bra, we’re going dress shopping babygirl, my friendship.Clara’s laugh echoed from the living room. “First of all, I am wearing a bra. Second of all, why are you yelling like the paparazzi are outside?”“Because,” Kacey said, dropping her bag on the console table, “if I don’t drag you out of this house right now, you’re going to sit here being all responsible and glowing and pregnant and emotional. We need chaos. We need lace. We need dramatic veils.”Clara appeared at the top of the staircase, one hand on her hip, the other resting lightly over her stomach. She looked soft these days, never fragile — but softer. Pregnancy had added this glow to her skin that made her look like she was lit from the inside.Alexander Robert stood right behind

LucaLuca sat in his big leather chair. The penthouse lights were low. He drank whiskey. It burned going down. The city lights were bright outside the big windows. But he only looked at the door. Waiting. She was late. Or maybe he was just too impatient. Last night she was on her knees. Tears in her eyes. Her body wet on his floor. He told himself he would take her tonight. Break the rule. Put himself inside her. Make her scream his name. But here he was. Still just watching. Still fighting the feeling in his chest. The door clicked. Sera walked in. She was not the scared college girl anymore. No robe held tight. No shaky steps. She wore the same silk thing. But it hung loose. Like she did not care if it fell open. Her long dark hair fell down her back. Her lips were dark red. Her eyes locked on him right away. No fear. No hesitation. She was playing the game back tonight. And fuck, it hit him harder than any bullet. “Luca,” she said. Her voice was low and soft. Not the scared whisper

EnzoEnzo walked into the VIP booth at Club Nero. He had a lazy smile on his face. Girls forgot their names when he smiled. Guys thought he was weak. But he was smart. He set his glass down. He looked at his cousin Luca across the table. Luca looked like hell. His shirt was half open. His green eyes were dark. Enzo knew that look. It was obsession. It messed with your head. It could get people killed.“Damn, Luca,” Enzo said. He kept his voice light and fun. That playboy act kept everyone guessing. “That new girl you got dancing private? Scarlett or Sera or whatever she calls herself. Fuck, man. The way you pulled her into your office after the audition. Your eyes stayed on the screens like she was the only girl there. I never saw you break your own rules for a stripper. No touching, right? But this one got you all messed up. Those curves. That sweet face. The way she moves like she is scared but wants it. She got you thinking with the wrong head, couz , Or is it more? You paid ransom

Detective RodriguezDetective Angela Rodriguez leaned back in her chair, the glow of the computer screen casting harsh shadows across her sharp features. Forty years old and still chasing ghosts in the night, her dark hair pulled back tight, eyes bloodshot from too many all-nighters. The precinct was quiet at this hour, most of the night shift out chasing leads that went nowhere. But she had something better. Something that had been simmering for years, finally coming to a boil like the rage she kept bottled tight.On the monitor, grainy footage from a hidden camera she’d planted near Club Nero’s VIP entrance played on loop. Sera Moretti, no, Scarlett Vale tonight—stepped out into the alley, wrapped in a coat that did nothing to hide the curves underneath. The girl looked exhausted, eyes downcast, but there was a fire there. Rodriguez could see it even in the low-res video. The same fire her father had. The one that got him killed.James Moretti. Her partner for eight years. The man w

LucaLuca sat in the dark after she left. The penthouse felt too quiet, too empty without her shaking body and those tear-filled eyes staring up at him like he was both salvation and damnation. He hadn’t moved from the chair since the door clicked shut behind her. The remote was still in his hand, thumb pressed hard where he’d slammed it to kill the music. He hated that. Hated every second of stopping her dance, stopping the way her hips ground desperate and her pussy dripped onto his floor like an offering he couldn’t take. He hated that for one second he saw the real girl instead of the dancer. Not the one who stripped at Club Nero for cash or the one who came to him in nothing but a robe because he told her to. The real Sera. The one with the sister she sold her soul to save, the one studying criminal justice like it could fix a world that was already broken. The one who loved him even though she knew his family was knee-deep in shit that would get her killed. Those tears weren’t f

I let the hoodie fall to the floor. The robe was all I had on, just like he’d ordered, and it felt like nothing at all under his intense stare. My skin prickled, nipples started getting so hard in peaks that rubbed against the thin silk with every shaky breath. Between my thighs the ache was constant, a deep throb from last night when he left me bent over the couch with my ass out and my pussy dripping. I was wet already, slick and swollen, glistening trails of arousal sliding down my inner thighs for him to see. Luca didn’t speak right away. He just watched from that big leather chair. His green eyes were locked on me, intense and unblinking, like he could see straight through the robe to the mess he’d made of me. His family was in deep. Tommaso Vitale’s name twisted my gut but Luca had paid the ransom and gotten her back. Maybe it was a setup to pull me in. I was here anyway, body burning for him. “Music,” he said finally, his voice rough like he’d been fighting the same battle I wa

By the time Luca hung up the phone his face was all hard lines and cold eyes but when he looked back at me still bent over the couch with my ass out and my pussy dripping he softened just a little. Not soft like nice. Soft like he wanted to ruin me more. “Get dressed and go home ok, he said with his voice rough from whatever Tommaso said. “But don’t you dare touch that sweet cunt tonight. I want you aching for me tomorrow. Be at the club early. Wear something that makes it easy for me to imagine ripping it off.” He stepped close, breath hot on my neck again, no touch but close enough I felt the heat. “You’re mine. Don’t forget it.”I straightened up shaky, robe falling open, and nodded because what else could I do. My body was on fire, clit throbbing so bad it hurt, but I didn’t argue. I grabbed my clothes, changed fast in the guest room, and left with my legs weak. The whole Uber ride home I kept squeezing my thighs together trying to ease the ache but it only made it worse. Damn h