Novels by Erma Roviko

“Thinking too much isn’t good for you. Look at you now. Instead of daydreaming, you should enjoy the facilities here.”Lyra snapped out of her thoughts by the massive window of the fiftieth-floor penthouse. She didn’t turn, her gaze fixed on the glittering city lights below, scattered like unreachable diamonds.“I prefer freedom to being here.”Lyra turned around, folding her arms across her chest. The ivory silk nightgown she wore clung to the tense lines of her body, the crystal chandelier casting reflections over the sapphire necklace around her neck.“Too dramatic, and ungrateful.”“What? You think I like it here? On top of that, you’ve cut off my access to the outside world.”Kenzo stepped closer. He had already removed his jacket, the collar of his expensive white shirt left open.He held a glass of whiskey, ice clinking softly.“I’m not a stupid girl. You didn’t save me from that bastard. You just moved me somewhere higher so you could watch me fall more clearly.”Lyra pointed

“Wake up.”Lyra felt her blanket being yanked away. Through the haze of sleep, she heard the rasp of curtains being pulled aside, then light sliced into her eyes.“What the hell…” she muttered, still half-asleep.“An additional contract, Miss. It must be read before breakfast.”Lyra opened her eyes. A middle-aged maid stood at the foot of the bed, holding a black folder as thick as a palm.Lyra sat up immediately.“An additional contract? I just signed one last night.”“It’s from Mr. Alberto.” The maid’s voice was flat. “He calls it a lifestyle alignment.”Lyra let out a harsh laugh. “Alignment? You mean oppression, right?”The maid didn’t react. She placed the folder on the nightstand and waited for Lyra’s response.“Sir is waiting at the dining table. Fifteen minutes.”She bowed and left without a sound. Lyra stared at the folder, her stomach suddenly churning. She opened the first page with trembling hands.Her eyes widened at once, shock flashing across her face as she read.Safet

“Get out, Lyra. We’re here.”Kenzo’s voice broke the silence inside the soundproof limousine cabin.Lyra snapped out of her thoughts. She turned toward the pitch-dark window. There were no streetlights, no grand gates of the Cullen residence that should have been there to welcome her.“Wait, this isn’t my house, Kenzo. Why are we in the basement?”She stared at the row of luxury cars parked neatly under the harsh glow of white neon lights. The atmosphere was unnervingly quiet, broken only by the soft hum of engines shutting down.“Your father’s house is no longer safe,” Kenzo replied without turning.He opened the car door and stepped out with the effortless grace of a predator. Lyra didn’t move, her fingers tightening around her small evening clutch.“What do you mean it’s not safe? My father has the best security system.”Kenzo bent down by the open car door, his sharp eyes locking onto hers. The basement lighting cast shadows across his face, making him look even harder.“Reporters

“Since when did you learn to stab your own father in the back, Lyra?” Damian Cullen said, fixing his only daughter with an intense stare.On his mahogany desk lay a tablet with its screen still glowing, displaying a business headline that felt to Damian like a slap across the face.“Kenzo Alberto and Cullen heiress announce engagement.”“Answer me!” Damian rose to his feet, moving slowly like a man restraining himself from exploding.Lyra stood frozen in the middle of the room. The pale yellow desk lamp made her face look older than her years. She hated how cold her hands felt, but she refused to let the tremor show.“I didn’t stab you in the back, Father.” Lyra repeated the sentence flatly, almost like a murmur. She even dared to look him straight in the eye.“I prefer to call it saving myself.”“Don’t play dumb with me, Lyra!” Damian growled, gripping the edge of the mahogany desk so hard it creaked beneath his hands.“Two days ago you were curled up in your room, crying over that u

“Don’t let go. If your hands shake, we lose,” Kenzo said flatly, almost without emotion.Lyra steadied her breathing. She looked at the back of her own hand. It was not trembling. Her fingers felt foreign as the diamond ring pressed against her skin. Cold and heavy. The metal was a reminder that starting tonight, she no longer belonged to herself. She had been sold for the next year.“I’m not shaking because I’m afraid,” Lyra replied, her eyes fixed on the grand doors of the gallery ahead.“I just can’t wait to watch him rot.”Kenzo did not respond. He merely adjusted his sleeve, making sure his silver watch was perfectly visible beneath the cuff.The driver opened the limousine door. Camera flashes from the journalists outside began to burst in rapid succession. Kenzo stepped out first, then extended his hand to Lyra.Lyra took his hand. The moment her heels touched the asphalt, fear ceased to exist. She focused on one thing only, not stumbling.Hundreds of flashes struck her face, b

“Don’t touch that door unless you’re ready to see Hans standing on the other side.”Lyra froze. Her hand, already resting on the handle of the solid teak door, turned cold. She glanced back at Kenzo, who stood casually near the window, his figure framed by the blinding morning sunlight. The penthouse suddenly felt smaller than usual. Her chest tightened, as if her lungs refused to function.“He wouldn’t dare step into this hotel,” Lyra replied, though her own voice sounded hollow to her ears.Kenzo chuckled. The laugh was short, dry, deeply condescending. He turned slowly, letting the sunlight illuminate the sharp lines of his face. There was no empathy there. Only cold, piercing logic.“He doesn’t need to come in here to destroy you, Lyra. He only needs to wait for you to step outside my protection.” Kenzo walked toward the marble table.He tossed his phone onto its surface. The screen lit up, displaying a photo of a white sedan Lyra recognized all too well. It was parked directly ac