Novels by Richile AA

Reyna’s POV By the time I stepped out of the apartment, I had convinced myself of one thing and one thing only, whatever happened last night did not exist outside of my memory. It had been grief. Alcohol. Bad judgment stacked on top of betrayal. A moment I would bury so deep it would never see daylight again. I had more important things to focus on now. Like my promotion. Like my career. Like pretending my life hadn’t detonated in the span of twenty four hours. Today was supposed to be good. No, correction, today was supposed to be celebratory. I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting my hair into a neat bun, smoothing imaginary wrinkles out of my blouse for the fifth time. I looked composed. Professional. Like a woman who had slept peacefully in her own bed and not woken up naked in a stranger’s mansion wondering what fresh hell awaited her. “Get it together, Reyna,” I whispered to my reflection. This meeting mattered. The hospital was officially announcing the promoti

Reyna’s pov Shit! Could it be my ex’s dad??I prayed it was a coincidence or whatever it was, everything was just an accident and I wasn’t going to see him again so it didn’t matter . Besides only I knew so it wasn’t much of a big deal.I stood in front of the mirror, tying my hair back into a bun that would last me through the long hours ahead. My scrubs were crisp, my ID card clipped neatly at my chest. Still, the girl staring back at me didn’t look ready-not for work, not for apologies, not for the mess her life had become. I pressed my palms against the sink, took a deep breath, and told myself to move. Tonight wasn’t about me. Tonight was about getting through another night shift without falling apart.I grabbed my bag, and dashed out of the apartment I entered the hospital,my eyes puffy from a grand total of two hours of sleep, and my brain was still replaying Marcus’s voice that baritone “I could trust you”, it was the only thing that could keep my mind busy.I needed more re

Reyna’s POV My head was still pounding when I finally peeled myself off the bed. The sunlight cut sharp slants through the curtains, catching on the glass chandelier above me. Everything in the room screamed wealth, the kind I’d always longed for. And yet, all I wanted was to get out. I scrambled for my clothes which were scattered across the floor . My bra tangled in the leg of my jeans and my blouse somewhere at the other side. Heat crept up my neck as I shoved everything back on, tugging the fabric over my skin in the wish that it could erase the memories of the night before. I had been drunk, grieving, reckless. And now, all I wanted was escape before I had to face the pieces of my life again. I picked up my phone from the bed where it had slipped during the night. No notifications. Not a single one. Not from Jeremy-of course not. Not from Celine . Nothing. The silence cut deeper than the hangover. I sighed, rubbing my temple. It was Friday. Which meant I was on the ni

Reyna’s pov ****FLASBACK*** “Stop Jeremy, you should go slower , I’m out of breath” I whispered and moaned truly out of breath . My thighs had been spread and shaking , Jeremy’s cock slipping smoothly in and out of my pussy,surrounded by cum from both of us , I suppose. He had hit my G-spot accurately with every insert and I could feel every inch deep inside me coupled with the speed I wanted. But I needed to pretend I had had enough of it.He passed his fingers through my red hair, “you know how long we’ve longed for this moment”, “ this is just the beginning”, he whispered, biting my lips and slowing down a bit and then returning sharply to his previous pace. This should’ve been me right? I should have known. That’s the first thought that ripped through my chest as I stood frozen, my hand still clutching the key I used to open Jeremy’s apartment door. I shouldn’t be here, not tonight, not after the way he brushed me off earlier and accused me of being “selfish” and “arrog

Reyna’s POV If life had a sense of humor, and I was convinced it did, it would look exactly like my calendar that morning. Promotional exam, check. Interview, same day, why not. Three year anniversary with my boyfriend, Jeremy Hesse, oh, absolutely. Emotional stability, missing. Presumed dead. “Breathe, Rey,” Celine said through FaceTime, her face filling my phone screen while I stood outside the building, clutching my bag like it might run away without me. “You’ve studied. You’re smart. You literally glow under pressure.” “I don’t glow,” I muttered. “I sweat. Aggressively.” She laughed. That familiar, obnoxiously comforting laugh. Celine Gomez, my best friend since elementary school, keeper of my secrets, destroyer of my calm. “Same thing. Glow, sweat, it’s all moisture.” I shook my head, smiling despite myself. “If I fail this exam, I’m blaming you.” “If you pass, you’re buying me wine,” she shot back. “Expensive wine. Promotion level wine.” “Deal,” I said, the