Novels by Lumi

Nicole's POV The drive home blurred together. Red lights. Green lights. People crossing streets. Cars slipping past mine. I couldn't remember any of them. The photograph sat on the passenger seat. Face up. Every time I looked away, my eyes found it again. My father. My uncle. And him. The city moved around me like nothing had changed. Maybe that was the cruel part. The world never stops because yours does. I pulled into my apartment building and turned off the engine. Silence. Real silence. No conversations. No questions. No careful looks exchanged over my head. Just me. My hand reached for the photograph. I hesitated. Then took it with me. The elevator climbed slowly. The numbers above the door lit one after another. Three. Four. Five. By the time it reached my floor, I realized I was still holding my keys. I had never unlocked the car. I looked down at them. Then laughed. A small sound. Barely there. The kind

Nicole's POV My uncle didn't ask the question again. He didn't need to. It stayed there anyway. Who told you to ask me that? The words settled between us, quiet and heavy, like they had always belonged in this house. I looked down at the cup in my hands. The tea had gone cold. Funny. I couldn't remember taking a single sip. My uncle leaned back into his chair, studying me over the rim of his own cup. He always had that look—the one that made you feel like he knew the answer before you'd even found the question. "You've been busy," he said. "Work." "Hm." That was all. Just that little sound. The same one he'd made when I was ten and tried to convince him I'd finished my homework. The same one when I was fifteen and told him I wasn't upset after my parents separated. The same one that always meant: I know you're lying. A soft clatter came from the kitchen. Then a familiar voice. "If you two are just going to stare at each other, at least do it over fresh tea." I l

Nicole's POV The office was quieter now.Not because people had left. Because the noise no longer reached me. Voices moved beyond the glass. Phones rang. Someone laughed somewhere down the hall. The world continued with an ease that felt almost offensive. My screen glowed in front of me. Unread emails. Meeting requests. Deadlines. Things that had seemed important this morning. I stared at them. The words blurred. Not from tears.......Just distance. Like they belonged to somebody else's life. My hand drifted toward the photograph again. The one still sitting open on my phone. The outline. The shoulder. The shape my mind refused to let go of. The shape it already knew. I locked the screen. Then unlocked it. Then locked it again. As if doing it enough times might change what I'd seen. but .... I already knew It wouldn't The memory kept coming anyway. Uninvited. A rainy afternoon. Years ago. The smell of old books. A familiar voice som

Nicole’s POV The office didn’t feel the same after she left. Not quieter, not louder… just wrong. Like something had shifted half an inch out of place and refused to go back. I stood where she’d left me, staring at the door a second too long, like it might open again and fix whatever that was. It didn’t. It never does. My reflection caught in the glass before I meant to look. Still composed, still sharp, still exactly what everyone expected to see. I held my own gaze for a second, then another, like I was waiting for it to crack first. It didn’t either. That almost annoyed me. I moved.Not out of hesitation, but intention. The photo was still open on my phone. The angle sat wrong in my head, like a word on the tip of your tongue that refuses to come out. I lifted it again, zooming in just slightly, not on myself this time… on the edges. The reflection. The glass. The faint outline of something behind it. My brows pulled together. “…that’s not outside.” The realization didn’t hi

Nicole’s POV The office felt… too bright. Not the normal kind of bright. The kind that sat behind your eyes and refused to dim, no matter how many times you blinked. My heels clicked against the floor.Steady, Measured and Controlled. people would think everything about me At least… from the outside is stable not knowing my mind is rollercoaster Inside. The elevator doors slid open, and I stepped out without hesitation.Because pausing meant thinking and thinking meant replaying. My grip tightened slightly around my phone. “Morning, ma’am.” I didn’t even look at who said it. “Morning.” My voice came out smooth. Easy. Like I slept......Like I wasn’t standing in my apartment last night staring at a photo of myself taken from across the street. Like someone wasn’t watching me or will I say Still watching me. I reached my office door, pushing it open. I stepped inside, closing it behind me with a quiet click. My hand pressed against the edge of the desk, finge

Nicole’s POV The kettle clicked Soft Almost like nothing. But it landed too loud in the silence. My phone was still in my hand, the screen dimming slowly before going dark. Behind me, water began to heat again.A low hum. Then the faint tremble of it nearing a boil. Mom moved around the kitchen.Cup against the counter Ceramic tapping lightly. Like she was being careful not to make noise.....m And somehow making more because of it. “You should sit, you've been standing for a while now.” Her voice came from behind me. I didn’t answer. l My thumb brushed the side of my phone, waking the screen again. Light spilled across my palm Cold and Unforgiving. The message sat there. Something about it felt deliberate. Like whoever sent it knew exactly how long I’d stare before giving in. Another second passed. The kettle hissed softly now,Steam building,Pressure rising. I tapped the screen. You’re asking the wrong people. My fingers tightened slightly. The words

Hidden Eye The door clicked shut behind Valentina, and the silence of her suite settled around her like a heavy blanket. She slipped off her heels with a tired sigh, rubbing the ache from her feet as her gaze drifted toward the window. The portrait. The little girl. Those hazel eyes that mirrored her own. No matter how hard she tried, the image refused to leave her mind. She crossed to the wardrobe and unfastened the delicate buttons of her blouse. Alessandro hadn't spoken to her since the west wing. Their paths had crossed twice that day, yet each time he had walked past without so much as a glance, his expression locked behind the same unreadable mask. She frowned at her reflection in the mirror. Then...... A shadow moved behind her. Her breath caught. She spun around so quickly the silk blouse slipped from her fingers. The room was empty. Only the soft glow of the bedside lamp warmed the polished floor. Valentina let out a shaky breath and pressed a han

The Ravens Don Vittorio lay motionless beneath crisp white hospital sheets, the steady rhythm of machines filling the room where his commanding voice had once ruled. Clear tubes disappeared beneath the blanket, while the heart monitor traced fragile green lines across its screen with relentless beeps. Marco stood beside the bed, his father's cold hand clasped tightly in his own. "Dad..." The word barely escaped his lips. There was no response. Only the soft hiss of the ventilator. The doctor adjusted the chart before meeting Marco's weary eyes. "The next forty-eight hours are critical." Marco gave a stiff nod, though the words barely registered. His father's strained whisper echoed relentlessly in his mind. "She's safe... because she's with him." Why Alessandro? Why trust the man they had spent years calling an enemy? Unable to bear another second, Marco stepped into the empty corridor. He had barely reached the elevator when his phone buzzed sharply in hi

The crazy Don The west wing was sealed within minutes. Armed guards moved from room to room, pulling dust-covered sheets from forgotten furniture, checking beneath loose floorboards and inside aging cabinets. Their radios crackled with short, clipped reports that echoed through the abandoned corridor. Captain Lorenzo approached Alessandro and lowered his head. "We searched every room, Don. Nothing appears to be missing." Alessandro said nothing. He walked deeper into the gallery, his footsteps slow against the weathered wooden floor. His gaze settled on the portrait of the little girl. For a long moment, he simply stared. Then his eyes narrowed. His fingers brushed the edge of the gilded frame before stopping at a faint scratch carved into the wood. Fresh. His jaw tightened. Someone had pried the painting away from the wall. Behind it, a narrow compartment stood open. Empty. No jewels. No cash. Only the outline of a document that had rested there for y

The West Wing The call ended with a quiet click. Alessandro lowered the phone, but his gaze remained fixed on the rain crawling down the tall windows of his study. The room was silent except for the steady crackle of the fireplace. A sharp knock never came. The door swung open. Captain Lorenzo stepped inside, water glistening on the shoulders of his dark coat. Alessandro didn't turn. "Double the guards around my wife." Lorenzo nodded. "Seal the west wing." A brief pause. "No one enters without my authorization." The hesitation behind him was almost imperceptible. Alessandro finally looked over his shoulder. "What is it?" Lorenzo's jaw tightened. "One of the motion sensors in the west wing activated shortly after midnight." Alessandro's expression didn't change. "Which guard responded?" "No one, Don." A heavy silence settled between them. "No patrol reported seeing anyone." The warmth left Alessandro's gray eyes. His fingers slowly curled

The Scream Back at Russo Manor, nothing had felt familiar since the wedding. The silence that once settled over the estate each morning had been replaced by whispers behind closed doors, unanswered phone calls, and servants who flinched whenever the front gates creaked open. Every sunrise seemed to deliver another problem, another reminder that the peace the Russo family had fought to preserve had slipped through their fingers. Then came the scream. It ripped through the sleeping mansion without warning. Not loud enough to reach beyond the iron gates. But loud enough to wrench every soul inside from sleep. Bedroom doors flew open one after another. Housemaids hurried into the corridor, their night robes brushing against the polished marble as panic spread from face to face. A silver tray slipped from trembling hands. Porcelain shattered. The sound echoed through the grand hallway. Then the scream came again. Longer this time. Raw. Desperate. Marco bol

The Mansion The silence woke her before the sunlight did.Valentina opened her eyes to a room she still couldn't bring herself to call hers. Golden morning light spilled through towering windows, stretching across polished hardwood floors before climbing the edge of the bed. It painted everything in warmth, yet the air felt strangely cold.She lay still, listening.No traffic.No students hurrying to class.No familiar sounds of Russo Manor.Only the distant ticking of an antique clock and the muffled footsteps of guards changing shifts somewhere beyond her door.A home shouldn't sound like this.She pushed herself upright, the wedding ring catching the sunlight. The diamond flashed brilliantly, drawing her eyes to the finger that still felt unfamiliar. She turned it once, then twice, but it refused to feel like it belonged there.Her gaze drifted to the bedside table.The black envelope waited exactly where she had left it.A knot tightened in her chest.She reached for the photogra