Novels by Gemma D. Nash

"How's the project coming along?" One of Aiden's friends was saying. We were in the VIP booth on the second floor, directly overlooking the dance floor. His friends were just like him. Rich, popular, the right connections.Yet, no part of me wanted to be here. “Good,” I muttered, reaching for my glass of scotch. “I can’t talk about it, though, until we are done.”It wasn’t like there was anything to talk about in the first place. All we had was a team, a rough idea of what we wanted in our heads, and the false sense of a vacation. But it was the start of something. “Jordan has the best ideas,” Heather chirped in, her legs daintily crossed atop each other. “I am certain it is going to blow our minds away. He isn’t one to do things just for the sake of doing them.”“You two are cute,” someone said. “I have heard a lot about your relationship from some of my acquaintances back in the University of the Saints. And some of my boys have played against you, Jordan, in basketball tournament

The neon lights pulsed with so much enthusiasm as we stepped into the club. It was loud and noisy, every single thing I hated. But I pushed in regardless, because I’d already caused such a drama today and I wasn’t going to make life harder for anyone else.I was still embarrassed after making everyone wait because I’d lost my phone and gotten lost. It was worse that my mom would have tried to reach me, along with Anna and James. James might not even realize it till later, but Anna and Mom?I was certain they would be trying to contact the whole world right now.It occurred to me to ask Jordan if Anna had tried reaching him, but he hadn’t said a word to me since he walked me back to the car, which was two hours ago. And now, he seemed to be making it a point to avoid me throughout the night.If this was the way he wanted it to go, I was going to play along with his tune. “I have got to introduce you to the boys,” Aiden yelled into Jordan’s ears, pulling him into the crowd. Heather fol

“This looks great,” Heather sighed, throwing herself into the only bed in the suite. It overlooked the ocean, with a lush forest inching onto the other side. One of the bellhops had just brought our suitcases in. He nodded politely before taking his leave. "It's going to be like a vacation – a much-needed vacation." She sat up, angling her head in my direction. "What do you think?"“It’s okay.”“Not about the room, silly.” She rolled her eyes. “About us. We are in a country far from home. No work, no school…”“We are here to work.”"Still," she said in a high-pitched tone. "At least, we get to lazy about. They have a really nice pool out back. We could go for a late-night swim. Or better still, go swim at the ocean. Or surf. That would have to wait till the morning, but…"I shrugged out of my shirt. “I don’t want to swim tonight.”“Okay. How about tomorrow…”“Or tomorrow.”“Come on, Jordan.” She was on her feet now, making her way to me. “You’ve been giving me this attitude since the

"Honey, what are you talking about?" The woman knelt in front of her daughter, while I stopped in my tracks, turning sharply. "Did you see him?"The little girl nodded. "There was this man who was reading with me at the bookstore. He asked where he could get a snack. He was hungry."“And what did you tell him?” I walked closer to them.“I told him he had to ask my mommy, since she knows the area. And he wanted to check the time and couldn’t find his phone. So, he left to go find it.”Her mother looked up at me. “Does that sound like the person you are looking for?”“I have been trying to reach him, but it keeps going straight to voicemail.” I turned to the little girl. “Do you know the direction he went in?”Her little fingers pointed in the opposite path from where I was headed. “It was the wrong way, wasn’t it? He looked new to the area.”“Thank you,” I breathed, squeezing her shoulders, before running in that direction. The sound of my shoes hitting the ground was the only audible

“He should be close by,” Nita muttered a few feet away, scanning the road. “I didn’t see him walk away, but it’s his first time in Spain, right? He couldn’t have wandered that far off.”He couldn't have. I knew that. So, why did it feel like my heart was about wrenching out of its spot? I'd dialled his number a million times already. They all went straight to voicemail. I was running out of my mind, and I felt like no one would understand me.How would they, when even I didn’t understand myself?“But how dumb could he be?” Heather scoffed. “The fact that we all got out of the car didn’t give him the same right. I mean, he’s an employee, isn’t he?”“Shut up, Heather.” I didn’t think I’d ever heard Joshua talk to her like that. "Someone is missing, and the only thing you think about is his status? Can you even hear yourself? You are appalling, and honestly, it's no wonder that no one can stand you."Heather was about to lose it. “You can’t possibly be speaking to me in that manner, Jo

We are in Spain. The airport rose imposingly behind as we filed into the car that had been waiting for the last hour before we landed. Perks of being an Arthur. The driver moved to the back to shove our suitcases into the trunk, while we found our positions.Of course, it was a limousine. Arthur sat at the front with the driver, murmuring something about needing to make a business call without our voices getting in the way. Heather hated it. She pouted like a child, but Jordan barely paid her any attention.Now, the back was oddly quiet. Everyone was on their phones, pressing away. I needed to do something. So, I shot a text to Anna, informing her we were in Spain already. She wanted to call. She was dying to see what it was like from my lens. But I couldn't speak to Anna here. For once, Heather was in the car with us. She was a haughty rich kid who hated anything that wasn't in her class. And I didn't want her to hurt Anna's feelings. I would be helpless, and I didn't want Anna to

“Mommy, you’re going to be late.”“I’m not going to be late,” I replied, reaching across the kitchen counter to slide a plate toward Alice. “I’m managing my time.”“You said that yesterday,” she pointed out, narrowing her eyes slightly. “And then you were late.”I paused mid-step, then sighed. “That was one time.”“It was two times,” she corrected, already picking up her fork.I glanced at Ace over her head. He was seated at the table, coffee in hand, watching the exchange with quiet amusement that he wasn’t even trying to hide.“You’re not helping,” I told him.“I’m not interfering,” he replied calmly. “There’s a difference.”“She’s ganging up on me.”“I’m being accurate,” Alice said, her tone firm as she took a bite of her pancake.I crossed my arms. “You’re seven.”“I’m right,” she said through a mouthful of food.Ace huffed out a quiet laugh, setting his cup down. “She has a point.”I stared at him. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”“I am on your side,” he said. “I’m just not wi

The first time I got married, I didn’t choose it.Not really.I told myself I did. I convinced myself it was love, that it was history, that it was something inevitable and right. But looking back now, standing barefoot on the grass with the evening sun settling softly over the estate, I understood the difference.That wedding had been performance.This… wasn’t.“Mommy, you’re not listening.”Alice’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts, and I blinked down at her where she stood in front of me, hands on her hips in a way that was far too familiar.“I am listening,” I said, smiling faintly. “You said the flowers are uneven.”“They are uneven,” she insisted, turning to point at the small arrangement set up near the edge of the garden. “That one is higher than the other one, and it’s bothering me.”I followed her gaze, studying the flowers.They were slightly uneven.“You’re right,” I admitted.“I know,” she said, nodding with full confidence. “We have to fix it before Daddy gets here.”I

The detention center didn’t look the way I expected it to.There was no dramatic weight to it. No sense of finality carved into the walls. Just clean floors, muted colors, and a silence that felt procedural rather than emotional. It was a place built for processing, not reflection.Still, something about it pressed against my chest as I stepped inside.“Name?” the officer at the front desk asked without looking up.“Lily.”His pen paused mid-stroke. His eyes flicked up briefly, recognition passing across his face before it was quickly masked. “You’re expected,” he said, setting the pen down. “This way.”Of course I was.Nothing about this was accidental.I followed him down a long corridor, the sound of our footsteps echoing faintly. The further we walked, the quieter it became, like the building was swallowing noise the deeper we went.“Three separate requests were made,” he added as we stopped in front of a secured door. “You can choose who you see first.”“Willow,” I said.The offi

The studio lights were warmer than I expected.Not harsh. Not blinding. Just steady enough to make everything feel deliberate, controlled—like nothing existed outside the space they illuminated. The kind of environment where words didn’t slip accidentally. They were placed. Measured. Recorded.Permanent.I sat across from the interviewer, my hands resting loosely in my lap, my posture straight but not rigid. The chair was comfortable, but I didn’t let myself sink into it. Comfort had a way of softening edges, and I needed mine intact.“You’re sure you don’t want water?” the producer asked quietly from the side.“I’m fine,” I replied.He nodded and stepped back.Across from me, the interviewer—calm, polished, practiced—offered a small, reassuring smile. “We’ll take this at your pace,” she said. “There’s no pressure to answer anything you’re not comfortable with.”“I understand,” I said.There was a brief pause as final adjustments were made. A microphone clipped. A camera angle checked

By the next morning, the world had already decided who I was.I didn’t need to open my phone to know that. I could feel it in the way the air inside the house had shifted—tenser, heavier, like even the walls were bracing for impact. Still, I opened it anyway, because avoiding it wouldn’t change anything.The headlines came in waves.GRANT HEIR SCANDAL EXPLODESKIDNAPPING, CORPORATE FRAUD, AND A SECRET CHILDWHO IS LILY?I stared at the last one longer than I should have.Who is Lily?The question wasn’t curious. It was invasive. Hungry.I scrolled.Victim.Manipulative opportunist.Gold digger.Survivor.Liar.The words blurred together until they stopped meaning anything and started feeling like pressure against my chest.“She shouldn’t even be near that child.”My thumb froze.I reread the comment slowly, my stomach tightening.“She shows up out of nowhere and suddenly she’s the mother? Please.”A sharp knock sounded against the bedroom door before it opened without waiting for perm

The cameras started flashing before we even reached the podium.By morning, the story had fractured across every network—kidnapping, corporate scandal, socialite matriarch in handcuffs. The Grant name had become a headline instead of a legacy, and for once, the narrative wasn’t being controlled behind closed doors.Ace had called the press conference himself.Not a statement through legal counsel.Not a controlled leak.Not silence.A conference.The ballroom of the Grant headquarters had been transformed overnight into a media arena. Reporters packed shoulder to shoulder, microphones branded with logos angled toward the stage, eyes sharp with anticipation. They wanted blood, denial, spin.They weren’t going to get any of that.I stood just behind the curtain with Alice in my arms. She was quiet, unusually so, her fingers wrapped around a loose strand of my hair as if anchoring herself. She had barely slept. Neither had I. But she felt solid against me—warm, alive, safe—and that was e