Novels by Twwoossie

The Afterglow of Malice​Jennifer’s POV​The storm broke the moment we crossed the threshold of the villa.​The tropical sky had turned the color of a bruised plum while we were on the mountain, and by the time the heavy timber doors of our pavilion shut behind us, the sky unburdened itself. Rain sheeted down in solid, deafening walls, obliterating the view of the canyon and turning the open-air edges of the suite into a gray, misty blur. The roar of the water outside matched the chaotic, frantic rhythm of the blood roaring in my ears.​I didn't even wait for Lucas to take off his jacket. The second Elena closed the corridor doors, leaving us completely isolated in the master pavilion, I spun around.​"Don't you ever lay a hand on me like that again," I hissed, my voice vibrating with a day's worth of suppressed fury. I pointed a shaking finger at him. "In the car. Touching my face to prove you can. I am your business partner by force, Lucas. I am your legal shield because you hol

The Weight of the Crown pt:2​Lucas’s POV ​The little Conti had completely hijacked the room. ​I sat back in my chair, watching Jennifer smoothly field questions from Triatmodjo’s most cynical legal advisers.Her eyes were bright,.... the hollow, defeated look she’d carried from London entirely gone, replaced by the lethal, razor-sharp competence that had made her a legend in the public relations circuit. The emerald silk shifted as she gestured toward the contract, her long fingers tracing a clause with absolute authority. ​She hadn't just defended her brand....she had weaponized it against my own narrative. (One of the sexiest things shes done this week) She had told an eighty-two-year-old billionaire that my standard commercial model was outdated, and she had done it with so much poise that the old man had practically smiled while she did it. ​Fascinating.... I thought, my eyes tracking the tight, furious line of her jaw even as she smiled at Widjaja. ​She hated me...

The Weight of the Crown ​Jennifer’s POV ​The luncheon was held in a massive, open...air pavillion...a traditional Javanese pavilion supported by towering, intricately carved teak pillars that had probably stood for centuries and centuries. The roof vaulted high into the humid air, but underneath, the atmosphere was thick with the scent of roasted spices, expensive tobacco, and old, immovable power. ​Setyo Triatmodjo sat at the head of a long, solid mahogany table that could easily seat thirty people. He was a frail-looking man in his early eighties draped in a flawlessly tailored silk shirt, but his eyes were sharp as flint. Surrounding him were six of his top board executives—all older men, all holding themselves with the rigid, unyielding posture of traditionalists who viewed the corporate world as a blood sport. ​Lucas sat to Setyo’s right, and I was placed directly next to Lucas. The weight of his hand had left my lower back the moment we sat...but the ghost of that heat

The Poisoned Feast ​Jennifer’s POV ​The morning brought no relief, only a shift in the temperature and a fresh layer of dread. By noon, the villa was crawling with a different kind of presence. Men in dark, tailored lightweight suit...looking entirely out of place against the lush tropical backdrop...were inspecting the perimeters with earpieces firmly in place. ​Lucas had been gone since dawn, leaving me alone with Elena, who had silently presented me with a selection of dresses chosen specifically for the afternoon's luncheon at the Triatmodjo estate. Every single one of them was striking, expensive, and completely dictated by Lucas’s taste. ​I chose a dark emerald silk midi dress with a high neckline...a color that felt like armor, matching the jungle but completely shielding my body from view. If I was going to be paraded around as his trophy or his strategic anchor, I wasn't going to make it easy for anyone to look at me. ​When I walked down to the courtyard wher

The Architecture of Hate​Jennifer’s POV​The master suite wasn't a room...it was an open-air stage designed to break whatever resolve I had left. Three sides of the pavilion were entirely open to the elements, separated from the vertical drop of the cliffside by nothing but a low stone ledge and sheer, white silk curtains that billowed like ghosts in the night breeze. In the center of the dark timber floor sat a massive bed, draped in heavy netting, looking like a monument to my own captivity.​I stood by the edge of the stone terrace, my arms crossed tightly over my chest, shivering despite the oppressive heat. Every muscle in my body was locked tight. The skin on my wrist still burned where Lucas had pinned me to the desk, a physical reminder of just how easily he could dismantle my defenses when he chose to.​He knew about the phone.Fuckkkkk. The realization made my stomach churn with a sickening bl

The Emerald Trap Part 2Lucas’s POV​She was fighting again.​I stood by the carved wooden pillars of the main pavilion, watching her silhouette against the darkening jungle sky. The white linen dress she wore caught the rising mountain breeze, billowing around her legs as she stared down into the gorge. For the last three days, she had been a ghost quiet, carrying the crushing weight of the London boardroom defeat . It had irritated me to the point of distraction. I didn't want a broken, compliant doll pacing the rooms of my house.... I wanted the sharp, venomous woman who looked at me like she wanted to burn my entire empire to the ground. And I would let her.​Seeing the fire spark back into her eyes out there on the terrace brought a dark, familiar thrill back into my chest and not to mention blood started to rush into some places. The Indonesian heat was melting away her rigid defense mechanis