Novels by Najaatu

“A few times. Usually just in passing. He’s intense but fair from what I’ve heard. Why, have you met him?”“Briefly. During the interview process.”That was technically true.“He’s single, you know.” Kelly had apparently been listening. “Every woman in this building has a crush on him. Rich, hot, powerful. The holy trinity.”“He’s also our boss,” James pointed out. “Pretty sure there are rules about that.”“Rules are meant to be broken.” Kelly waggled her eyebrows.“I’m not interested,” I said quickly. Too quickly, judging by the way Melissa looked at me.“Fair enough. Workplace romances are messy anyway.”They moved on to other topics, but I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling in my stomach. Being here, working in Adrian’s building, knowing he was somewhere in this same tower, it felt dangerous. Like I was playing with fire.I made it through the rest of the day without seeing him. Small miracle. By five o’clock my brain was fried from information overload and I was ready to escape.I

My first day at Rhode Enterprises started with me throwing up in my new bathroom.Nerves, mostly. And the cheap instant coffee I’d tried to choke down for breakfast. I brushed my teeth twice, gargled with mouthwash, and stared at my reflection in the spotty mirror.“You can do this,” I told myself. “It’s just a job. Just work. You’ve done this before.”Except I hadn’t. Not really. Working at my father’s company had been safe, comfortable. Everyone had known me. I’d had my little office, my routine, my place in the hierarchy.This was different. This was starting over from scratch in a building full of strangers who didn’t know about my birthday party or the divorce or any of it.Fresh start, I reminded myself. That’s what you wanted.I put on my most professional outfit, a navy dress and blazer that Natalie had helped me pick out over the weekend. Did my makeup carefully. Pulled my hair back in a sleek ponytail. Looked at myself one more time.Professional. Capable. Definitely not som

“You’re really serious.” “Of course I am!” “No, I mean…” She stood up, walking over to me. “You really didn’t do it.” “I really didn’t do it.” She stared at me for another long moment, searching my face for any sign of deception. Then her eyes filled with tears. “Oh my God, Ivy. Oh my God.” “What?” “If you didn’t do it, then someone set you up. Someone went through all that trouble to destroy your life.” “I know.” “Who would do that? Who hates you that much?” “I don’t know.” It was the question that had been eating at me since the moment those photos appeared. “I’ve been trying to figure it out, but I can’t think of anyone. I don’t have enemies. I don’t have drama. I’m boring, Nat. I work and come home and have dinner with my husband and watch Netflix. Who would want to ruin that?” Natalie pulled me into a hug, sudden and tight. I nearly collapsed into it, all the tension I’d been holding finally releasing. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered against my hair. “I’m

Natalie’s apartment building was nicer than mine, not even close. There was a doorman in the lobby, an elevator that actually worked, and hallways that smelled like expensive candles instead of old cooking and mildew. Her place was on the eighth floor, a one bedroom with actual rooms instead of one sad space pretending to be everything. I stood outside her door for a full minute before I knocked, trying to steady my breathing and to prepare myself for whatever version of Natalie I was about to get. The disappointed one from the phone call, the broken one from the party, or maybe, hopefully, the real one, my best friend who knew me better than anyone. I knocked quite a few times before the door opened. Natalie stood there in her yoga pants and a crop top, her blonde hair up in a messy bun. She looked perfect, like she always did. Not a single sign that the last two days had affected her at all. “Hey,” she said, stepping back to let me in. “Hey.” I walked into her apartment

I took a hot shower, scrubbing away the last two days until my skin was red and looked very raw. I washed my hair twice and stood under the water until it started running cold. When I got out, I felt slightly more alive like the human I was. Still broken, but clean. I put on something comfortable, just leggings and an oversized sweater, and sat down on my makeshift bed with my laptop. The wifi the landlord had promised was spotty at best, but it worked enough to load job sites, like Indeed, LinkedIn, Glassdoor. I opened them all and started searching. Marketing Coordinator, Social Media Manager, Content Strategist, Digital Marketing Specialist and other jobs related. I applied to everything that matched my experience, tweaking my resume and cover letter for each one, highlighting different skills and different achievements. Making myself sound invaluable. One application, then two, then five, and then Ten. Finally, I applied to fifteen jobs in three hours, my eyes burning

The apartment was on the fourth floor of a building that had seen better days. Probably in the seventies. I stood in the doorway with the last of my boxes, staring at the empty space that was supposed to be my fresh start. The walls were beige, that sad kind of beige that wasn’t trying to be neutral, just existing because no one had bothered to paint over it. The floor was worn hardwood, scratched and dull, with a stain near the window that looked suspiciously like old water damage. One room. That was it. One room that served as bedroom, living room, and whatever else I needed it to be. A tiny kitchen area shoved into the corner with a two-burner stove, a mini fridge that hummed louder than it should, and about two feet of counter space. The bathroom was through a door so narrow I had to turn sideways to get my boxes through. But it had a window, a decent sized one that looked out onto the street below, letting in natural light that made the beige walls look slightly less dep

Sophie’s POV The black dress felt like armor. I’d chosen it carefully, it was elegant but not expensive, modest but not mousy, the kind of thing that would help me blend into the background at Richard’s funeral. But as I zipped it up and stared at my reflection in the hotel bathroom mirror, I knew that blending in was impossible.Camille had seen Ethan. By now, the entire pack probably knew.“Mama, do I have to wear the tie?” Ethan appeared in the doorway, tugging at the navy blue tie I’d insisted on. He looked so grown up in his little suit, so heartbreakingly handsome with his grey eyes serious and his dark hair combed back.He looked like a Steele.“Yes, baby. Just for today.” I crouched down, adjusting the tie and smoothing his collar. “Remember what we talked about? We’re going to say goodbye to my stepfather. There will be lots of people there, and some of them might want to talk to us. Just be polite and stay close to me, okay?”“Will that mean lady be there? The one from the

Sophie’s POV Central Park in October was breathtaking. The leaves were turning, painting the trees in shades of gold and crimson, and the air had that crisp quality that I’d forgotten existed in California’s endless summer. We walked along the paths, Ethan running ahead to examine every interesting rock and leaf, and for a moment, I let myself pretend we were just tourists. Just a mother and son on vacation, with no complicated past and no terrifying future.My wolf wasn’t fooled. She was on high alert, sensing the pack boundaries we were crossing, the territorial markers that saturated the air. We were in the heart of Steele territory now, and every instinct I had was screaming at me that we were exposed, vulnerable.That he might be near.“Mama, look!” Ethan had found a hot dog cart and was staring at it with the intensity of someone who’d discovered buried treasure. “Can we get one? Please?”I laughed despite myself. “Yes, we can get one.”The vendor was human—I could tell by the

Sophie’s POV The plane descended through grey clouds, and my Soso stirred uneasily in my chest. She could sense it as we were entering Steele pack territory. Even at thirty thousand feet, the change in the air was palpable and thick with the scent of established power and old dominance.I had forgotten how suffocating it felt to be in another Alpha’s domain.“Mama, look! I can see the buildings!” Ethan pressed his face against the window, his breath fogging the glass. His excitement was pure, untainted by the dread coiling in my stomach like a living thing.He had no idea what we were flying into.I had spent the entire flight trying to prepare him, to find words that would explain without explaining too much. Your grandmother can be… difficult. The people we’re going to see, they’re complicated. Just stay close to me, okay?But how did I explain that we were walking into a pack that had cast us out? That his father didn’t know he existed? That every instinct in my body was screaming

Sophie’s POVThe words punched the air from my lungs. Soso whimpered, wanting to tell our pup the truth, to howl our grief and rage and longing to the Moon Goddess who gave us a fated mate we couldn’t have.“Lots of people have grey eyes,” I said, taking the magazine and setting it aside with hands that shook. “Come on, let’s get you dinner. I promised we’d try that new taco place, remember?”I’d gotten good at deflecting over the years, at building walls around the truth and at pretending the bond didn’t still sing in my blood, calling me back to a mate who’d rejected everything we could have been.The taco place was cheerful and loud, and Ethan chattered about his day while I nodded and smiled and tried not to think about grey eyes and broken bonds. But my dear Soso was restless, pacing beneath my skin like she could sense something coming.I saw a letter immediately we git home waiting for me. Cream-colored, with a return address that made my wolf snarl and my human heart stutter.

Sophie’s POVTell me you don’t feel it, Sophie. Tell me the bond means nothing to you.”I jolted awake, my heart hammering against my ribs like a caged animal. His voice still echoed in my ears, rough and demanding, even as the afternoon light streaming through my studio windows dragged me back to reality. My cheek was stuck to my forearm, a fabric swatch pressed into my skin leaving little indentations, and my body hummed with a heat that had nothing to do with the Los Angeles sunshine.“Mama? I’m hungry.”I sucked in a sharp breath, my wolf stirring restlessly beneath my skin as I straight“ened too quickly. Ethan stood in the doorway, his small hands gripping the frame, and those grey eyes—those damn grey eyes that were a mirror of his father’s—watched me with concern that no six-year-old should have to feel.“I’m fine, sweetheart,” I managed to say, my voice rough from sleep and dreams I had no business having. Dreams that felt more like memories of my fated mate, the one bond I sh