Novels by Kim castro

Five years after the worst day of my life, I'm standing on my penthouse balcony watching the city wake up.It's 5:47 AM. I know because I checked my phone before coming out here. Old habit. I still wake up early sometimes, can't help it. But now it's not because of nightmares. It's because I want to see this. The moment when darkness shifts to light. When Manhattan transforms from sleep to movement.When everything becomes possible again.Behind me, through the glass doors, Lily's asleep in her room. Three now, with opinions about everything and her father's eyes. The baby, James, is in his crib next to our bed. Five months old and already trying to roll over, determined to keep up with his sister.Liam's still asleep too. Arm flung out across my side of the bed, probably dreaming about the Singapore expansion or the new office in London. Knight-Carter Ventures keeps growing, keeps demanding more of us. But we've learned how to balance it. How to build an empire and a family at the sa

Lily turns one on a Tuesday, and our penthouse is chaos in the best possible way.Balloons everywhere. Purple and gold because apparently that's her favorite color combination, though how a one-year-old has opinions about color schemes is beyond me. Harper's in the kitchen arguing with the caterer about whether the cake needs to be organic and gluten-free. Marcus is trying to hang a banner that keeps falling. Jordan's on the floor with Lily, letting her grab his glasses and laughing every time she succeeds."She's going to break those." I'm holding a tray of cupcakes, watching them."Let her." Jordan grins up at me. "She's the birthday girl. She gets whatever she wants."Lily shrieks with joy, waving the glasses around like a trophy. She's wearing a little purple dress that she'll probably destroy within the hour. There's already frosting on her collar from the taste test earlier. Her dark hair, so much of it for a one-year-old, is in two tiny pigtails that Liam insisted on doing hims

"Do whatever keeps you at peace." Now she looks at me. "Not what's noble or what makes you look like the bigger person. Not what anyone else thinks you should do. What keeps you at peace with yourself."The baby kicks again. Harder this time, like she's weighing in on the conversation. I wince, rub the spot.Harper's beside me in an instant. "You good?""She's just reminding me she's here." I can't help smiling. "Liam thinks she's going to be trouble.""She's your daughter. Of course she'll be trouble." Harper grins. "The best kind though. The kind that changes the world."I look at the invitation again. At Layla's name next to Alessandro's. Two people I don't know anymore, if I ever really did. Maybe that's the whole point. Maybe Layla gets to be someone new now. Someone who isn't defined by the worst thing she ever did.God knows I'm not the same person anymore either.I'm not the woman who walked into that living room and watched her world end. I'm not even the woman who burned Eth

The envelope sits on my desk like a loaded gun.Cream paper. Gold wax seal. My name in calligraphy that probably cost more than my first car. I've been staring at it for three hours now, watching the afternoon light shift across the glass surface of my desk, catching the edges, making it look almost innocent.It's not.My assistant knew. The way she set it down this morning, careful, like it might detonate. "This came in the morning mail," she'd said, not quite meeting my eyes. Charlotte's good at reading situations. She's had to be, working for me.I reach for it. Pull back. My hand hovers in the space between us, me and this thing that shouldn't have the power to make my stomach clench like this.I'm seven months pregnant. Running a billion-dollar firm. I faced down Ethan in a coffee shop six weeks ago and didn't fall apart. This should be nothing.But it's not nothing."You planning to open that or just keep having a staring contest with it?"I jump. Harper's leaning in my doorway,

Three days after running into Ethan, I wake up with clarity I didn't have before."I need to forgive him," I tell Liam over breakfast.He sets down his coffee. "You've already forgiven him. Multiple times. You've said it in therapy. In your letters. In interviews.""No. I've said the words. But I haven't actually done it. Not fully. Not completely. There's still this, this residue. This small part of me that's holding onto what he did. And I need to let it go.""Why now? What changed?""Seeing him. On that sidewalk. Looking diminished and trying. And realizing I'm still carrying something. Still holding space for anger I don't even feel anymore. It's just habit now. Familiar. But it's not serving me.""So how do you let it go?""I don't know yet. But I need to try."I spend the day thinking about forgiveness. What it means. What it requires. What it gives.Dr. Chen helps me process in our session."You've intellectually forgiven him," she says. "You understand why he did what he did.

I'm twelve weeks pregnant when I see him.The first trimester is almost over. Morning sickness is fading. I'm finally starting to believe this is real, that I'm actually having a baby. That I'm going to be a mother.I'm at a coffee shop in Chelsea, meeting a potential foundation donor. Running five minutes early, which never happens, so I decide to wait outside.And that's when I see him.Ethan.Walking down the street. Older. Grayer. Wearing clothes I don't recognize. But unmistakably him.My body reacts before my brain catches up. Heart racing. Hands shaking. Breath catching. Fight or flight kicking in even though I'm not in danger. Haven't been in danger from him in years.He hasn't seen me yet. I could leave. Could go inside. Could avoid this entire encounter.But I don't. I stay. Plant my feet. Watch him approach.When he's twenty feet away, he sees me. Stops walking. Stands there on the sidewalk while pedestrians flow around him like water around a stone."Violet," he says. Not

Brandon arrives the next morning with three burner phones and a stack of files."These are the people," he says, spreading documents across the kitchen table. "Everyone Adrian's screwed over in the last decade. Business partners he bankrupted. Employees he destroyed. Competitors he crushed through illegal means."I scan the names. Dozens of them. Each with a story of betrayal, manipulation, loss."How many will talk?" Lucian asks."Most are too scared. Adrian has dirt on everyone. That's how he operates. Mutual destruction as insurance." Brandon taps one file. "But this guy. Marcus Reeves. Former CFO of Hayes Industries. Adrian fired him three years ago, accused him of embezzlement. Ruined his reputation.""Did he embezzle?" I ask."No. But Adrian planted evidence to cover up his own fraud." Brandon opens the file. "Reeves has been trying to clear his name ever since. He has documents. Proof of Adrian's accounting tricks. But no one would listen because Adrian's lawyers buried him.""

The fire alarm is chaos incarnate.Sprinklers engage, drenching the ballroom in seconds. Guests scream. The orchestra stops mid-note. Security's attention splits between us and the panicking crowd."Go!" Brandon's voice crackles in the earpiece. "Service exit, north side. I've unlocked it. Thirty seconds before they override."Lucian grabs my hand, and we run.Not toward the main doors where everyone's flooding out. Toward the kitchen. Through swinging doors that slam into confused catering staff. Past industrial ovens and prep stations. A chef shouts something, but we're already past him.The service exit is ahead. Green light above it. Unlocked.Behind us, Adrian's voice cuts through the chaos. "Stop them! Don't let them leave!"We burst through the door into an alley. Rain pours down, washing away our careful disguises. My wig loosens, and I rip it off. Lucian tears off his fake beard as we sprint toward the street.Brandon's van screeches around the corner. "Get in!"We pile into

Brandon arrives on day five with news we don't want to hear."There's a charity gala," he says, spreading photos across the cabin's small table. "Hayes Industries annual fundraiser. Adrian's making an appearance. First time since the Plaza.""So?" Lucian doesn't look up from the laptop where he's reading his mother's journal for the third time."So your mother is going to be there."My head snaps up. "What?""Evelyn. Adrian's bringing her. As his date." Brandon pulls up a press release on his phone. "He's framing it as a show of family unity. Devoted husband supporting his recovering wife. Look."The photo makes my blood run cold. Mom in an elegant gown, standing beside Adrian, smiling. But her eyes are empty. Glazed. The smile doesn't reach them."She's drugged," I whisper."Heavily medicated at minimum." Brandon zooms in. "But she's there. In public. Which means we can get to her.""It's a trap," Lucian says flatly."Of course it's a trap." Brandon sits back. "Adrian knows we're loo

The cabin has one bedroom, a tiny kitchen, and a fireplace that barely works. It's rustic in a way that would be charming if we were here by choice.We're not.Day three in isolation, and I'm starting to understand what Harper meant about the bond getting stronger.It started small. Sensing Lucian's mood from across the room. Knowing when he was about to speak before he opened his mouth. Feeling his tension like it was my own.But now it's more.Now I can feel his dreams.I wake at 3 AM, gasping, my heart racing from a nightmare that isn't mine. Lucian beside me, still asleep but thrashing, tangled in sheets soaked with sweat.In the dream…his dream…he's running through the mansion. Looking for someone. Diana. His mother. Me. They keep shifting, blending together. Adrian's laugh echoes through empty hallways. Doors lock before he can reach them. The dream has that elastic quality nightmares do, where you run and run but never get anywhere."Lucian." I shake him gently. "Wake up."His

The harassment starts small.A week after Harper's revelation, I wake to find my social media flooded with tagged photos. Not the old ones from the school scandal. New ones. Me and Lucian leaving the hotel. Grainy, taken from a distance, but unmistakably us.The caption makes my blood run cold: Still playing house while Mommy's locked up? Some daughters are so ungrateful. #AbandonedHer #FakeLove #GoldDiggerGonnaGoldDigTiffany's account. Posted two hours ago. Already seventeen thousand likes."Lucian." I shake him awake. "Look at this."He reads it, and his expression goes dark. "She's following us.""Or having us followed." I scroll through the comments. They're vicious. Creative in their cruelty. People I've never met have opinions about my character, my choices, my mother.If my mom was in a psych ward I'd be helping her not playing stepsibling romanceThis is what happens when trash marries moneyAdrian Hayes deserves better than these ungrateful leechesMy hands shake. "She's tur

The text comes at 2 AM, three days after the Plaza Hotel disaster.Unknown number: Coffee shop on 5th and Morrison. 9 AM. Come alone. Both of you. -HI show it to Lucian in the dim light of the hotel room. We haven't gone back to the mansion since that night. Haven't seen Adrian or Mom. Brandon got us this room, paid cash, told us to stay low while the media firestorm raged."Harper," Lucian says, reading the message. "She never uses her name in texts.""Should we trust her?""She's my sister. But she's also Adrian's daughter." He sits up, runs a hand through his hair. "I don't know anymore. I don't know who to trust.""You trust me."His eyes find mine in the darkness. "Always."The mate bond pulses between us, steady and sure. At least we have that. At least something in this chaos is certain.We arrive at the coffee shop separately, ten minutes apart. Harper sits in a back corner booth, sunglasses on despite being indoors, looking every bit the heiress trying not to be recognized.