Novels by Awafu Erica Wenia

Chapter 6: The Ministry of SecretsThe flight back from Atuabo was a suffocating descent into the reality of her new life. While the coastline of Ghana disappeared beneath the clouds, Elena didn't see the scenery. She saw the technical blueprints of a high-pressure valve and the face of a woman she had never met, whose death had become the cornerstone of her own imprisonment.Killian remained in a state of icy detachment, his focus consumed by a legal brief that likely spelled the end of another competitor. They landed in London under a bruised, purple sky, and by the time the Maybach pulled into The Zenith, the silence between them had become a living thing—thick, jagged, and hungry."I have a dinner meeting with the Board," Killian said as the elevator climbed toward the penthouse. He didn't look at her, but his hand moved, his fingers brushing the silk of her sleeve. "You are to stay in the penthouse. I’ve increased the security detail. After what happened with Thorne, I’m not taki

The private jet sat on the tarmac like a sleek, silver predator waiting to spring. Inside, the cabin was a cocoon of cream leather and polished walnut, but to Elena, it felt smaller than the elevator in Vanderwall Tower. Every time the engines hummed, she felt the vibrations in her teeth—or perhaps that was just the rattling of her own nerves.Across the narrow aisle, Killian was a statue of focused malice. He hadn't spoken since they left the penthouse at 4:00 AM. He was buried in a thick stack of blueprints, his fountain pen scratching across the paper with the rhythmic precision of a surgeon. The memory of his words on the terrace—paved his way to success with my mother’s ashes—echoed in her mind, turning the expensive coffee in her stomach to lead."If you stare at me any harder, Elena, you’ll set the blueprints on fire," Killian said without looking up."Did he really do it?" she asked, her voice cracking. "My father... he’s a good man, Killian. He’s kind. He’s gentle. He spent h

Chapter 4: The MasqueradeThe black diamonds felt like a cold, heavy collar.Elena stood before the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the east wing, her fingers trembling as she wrestled with the platinum clasp. The stones were a deep, obsidian hue—darker than the shadows pooling in the corners of the room. They didn’t sparkle with the cheerful light of white diamonds; instead, they seemed to absorb the room’s glow, much like the man who had gifted them to her.The dress Killian had selected was a masterpiece of architectural silk. A deep, midnight emerald, it draped over her curves like liquid shadow, held up by impossibly thin straps that felt as though they might snap under the weight of a single, sharp breath. It was a dress designed to be noticed, but more importantly, it was a dress designed to be a statement of ownership."Need help?"The voice came from the doorway, a low baritone vibrating with a familiar, dangerous gravity. Elena didn't turn around. She watched Killian’s reflection

Chapter 3: The First AssignmentThe sunlight in the penthouse was as cold as the marble floors. It didn’t warm the rooms; it only served to highlight the sharp, unforgiving edges of Killian’s world. Elena woke at 6:00 AM, her heart racing before her eyes even opened. For a fleeting second, she expected to see the cracked plaster of her old bedroom ceiling and hear the labored hum of her father’s portable nebulizer. Instead, she was greeted by the scent of thousand-thread-count Egyptian cotton and the silent, oppressive luxury of the east wing.She dressed in a charcoal-colored power suit she had found hanging in the walk-in closet—tailored so perfectly to her measurements it felt like a second skin. Killian didn't just know her name; he knew her proportions, her silhouette, perhaps even the way she moved. The thought sent a flicker of heat through her that she quickly doused with a splash of ice-cold water to her face.When she entered the kitchen, Killian was already there. He wasn't

Chapter 2: The Gilded CageThe rain had transitioned from a sharp drizzle to a rhythmic, heavy drumming against the roof of the black Maybach by the time it pulled into the underground garage of The Zenith. Elena stared out the tinted window, her reflection a pale, ghostly blur against the passing concrete pillars. In her lap, her fingers were intertwined so tightly they had lost all color, the tension radiating from her knuckles up to her shoulders.Six o’clock sharp. Killian’s driver hadn’t been a second late. He was a silent, imposing man named Graves who moved with the clinical efficiency of a soldier. He hadn't spoken a word as he collected her two weathered suitcases—containing the meager remains of her life—and placed them in the trunk. As the car had pulled away from her cramped apartment for the last time, Elena hadn't felt the relief she expected. Instead, she felt like a high-value prisoner being transferred to a much more expensive cell.The elevator in the garage lacked a

Chapter 1: The Lion’s DenThe glass doors of the Vanderwall Tower didn’t just open; they parted like a silent, automated command, welcoming the worthy and mocking the desperate.Elena Vance stood on the rain-slicked London sidewalk for a full minute, her breath hitching as she looked up at the skyscraper that pierced the charcoal clouds. It was a monument to ego—ninety floors of reinforced steel and tinted glass that looked less like a building and more like a blade aimed at the heavens. To the rest of the world, it was the headquarters of Vanderwall Equity, the most successful private equity firm in Europe. To Elena, it was the tombstone of her family’s legacy.She gripped the strap of her leather laptop bag until her knuckles turned a bloodless white. The cheap, imitation material bit into her palm, a stinging reminder of how far the Vances had fallen. She shouldn't be here. Every instinct she possessed, every whispered lesson her father had ever ingrained in her during their Sunday