Novels by Ngozee_Writes✍️

Sarah's POVThe sleek glass tower housing Carla Ruiz’s offices gleamed under the midday sun three days later. I stepped out of the town car Adrian had insisted on providing, smoothing down my tailored beige dress. It was professional, modest, Eleanor-approved.My heart beat faster than it should for a simple business meeting.Carla’s assistant greeted me in the sleek lobby and escorted me to the twentieth-floor conference room. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a sweeping view of the river, with sunlight dancing on the water.Carla rose from the head of the long table, her navy pantsuit sharp and confident, dark hair in its signature sleek bun. Her smile was warm.“Sarah. Right on time. I’m glad you could make it.” She gestured to a chair beside her, where coffee and a light spread of fruit and pastries waited.I managed a small smile, settling in. “Thank you for meeting me again.”“You're welcome,” Carla replied, with a polished smile. “Shall we get straight to it?”“Absolutely,” I re

Sarah's POV The formal dining room glowed under the crystal chandelier, its light fracturing across silverware and fine bone china like scattered diamonds. The long mahogany table was set with precision, fresh lilies in a low centerpiece, wine breathing in decanters, and courses arranged by the housekeeper with silent efficiency.Roast quail, herb-infused vegetables, and delicate sauces filled the air with savory warmth, but the atmosphere felt anything but comforting.I sat on one side of the table in a soft lavender dress, my hands folded in my lap to hide their slight tremble. Adrian occupied the head, looking polished in his open-collar shirt after a long day at the office. Eleanor reigned at the opposite end, pearls luminous against her navy blouse, her posture impeccable as always.As the main course was served, I took a steadying breath and spoke.“I’ll be meeting with Carla Ruiz in three days,” I said quietly, keeping my tone measured and soft. “We scheduled it this afternoon

Sarah's POV“Did you do it, Kael? Have you been secretly recording us? The café, the texts, all our conversations? Is that how Eleanor got the screenshots?”He blinked, genuine confusion crossing his face. “What? Sarah, no. I would never…”“Don’t lie to me.” I took a step closer, clutching the strap of my bag, with my heart hammering. “She had printed messages. My words to you after the gala. All our conversations. And she mentioned security cameras catching us. How else would she know details? You’ve always been around the art scene. You know everything about me. You've been acting like you're protecting me by keeping evidence or... or something. You've been spying on me, feeding her information…”Kael set the canvas aside fully and moved toward me, hands raised in surrender. His dark eyes were wide with shock. “Sarah, stop. I’m not spying on you. I swear it. I have no idea what cameras she’s talking about. That’s insane. She's trying to play with your intelligence and you're falling

Sarah's POVThe Sinclair's arrived promptly at four, ushered in by the housekeeper. Marko Sinclair, my father, entered first. Tall and silver-haired, his accountant’s posture rigid in a worn but respectable suit. Clara followed, my stepmother’s face pinched with perpetual disappointment, clutching her handbag like a shield. Ivy, my younger sister, trailed behind in a floral blouse.Eleanor rose from her high-backed chair like a queen receiving supplicants, pearls glowing against her cream silk blouse. “Marko, Clara, Ivy, how kind of you to come on such short notice. Please, sit. We have much to discuss regarding Sarah’s recent performance.”Adrian stood near the fireplace, briefcase set aside but his suit still crisp from the office. He offered a polite nod to my family, his hand brushing my shoulder briefly as he passed. “Good to see you all,” he murmured.I swallowed hard as they settled across from me. Dad cleared his throat, avoiding my eyes. “Mrs. Moretti, we appreciate the invit

Sarah's POVMy stomach dropped. I hadn’t expected it this early.Eleanor squeezed my arm. “Go. Smile. Read it exactly as we practiced. Word for word, Sarah. Don’t embarrass us.”I walked to the stage. Every step felt like walking underwater. Hundreds of eyes on me. Cameras. Adrian looked up from his phone, with his eyes fixed on me. Eleanor in the front row, posture perfect, smile sharp.The podium was cold under my hands. The leather folder with Eleanor’s script was there, open to page one. Her handwriting in the margins. Pause here. Smile here. Don’t act nervous.I cleared my throat. The mic picked up the sound and sent it through the whole room.Good evening,” I began. My voice shook. “I am honored to stand here tonight as part of the Moretti family.”Eleanor’s smile grew. She liked that line.I read her words. About legacy. About duty. About how proud I was to support my husband Adrian and his vision. About how family came first, always. Each sentence tasted like dust.The audienc

Sarah's POV The crystal chandeliers in the Grand Ballroom of the Moretti Plaza Hotel dripped light like frozen diamonds, casting everything in a golden haze that felt both magical and oppressive.The gala was in full swing, the annual Moretti Foundation Charity Auction, where old money mingled with new tech fortunes, politicians shook hands with CEOs, and every smile hid a calculation.I stood at the edge of the crowd in a floor-length emerald gown the tailor had insisted on, the silk cool against my skin perfectly.My hair was swept into an elegant updo, pearls at my throat, Eleanor’s choice, of course. “Something classic,” she’d said during the fittings.Adrian’s hand rested lightly on the small of my back as we descended the sweeping staircase, a picture-perfect couple for the photographers lining the entrance. His tuxedo was impeccable, his jaw clean-shaven, but the touch felt scripted. “Smile, Sarah,” he murmured, lips barely moving. “This is important for the reporters.”I forc