Novels by Muffin Writes

Rebecca's POV The office building was a towering glass structure that seemed to scrape the clouds. I had never been inside such a modern, imposing space. The lobby alone was larger than my childhood home—polished marble floors, a massive abstract sculpture in the center, and hushed, professional voices.I smoothed down my blazer, adjusted the strap of my bag, and walked toward the reception desk. My heels clicked against the marble, a sound that felt foreign and grown-up and completely terrifying.I had dressed carefully that morning—a fitted black skirt, a cream blouse, and a tailored blazer. I had curled my hair and applied just enough makeup to look polished without looking like I was trying too hard. I had rehearsed my answers in the mirror, practiced my handshake, and tried to shove the memory of Mark's dirty text from my mind.But the memory wouldn't budge."I don't want to know what you're wearing. I want to know what you're not wearing."I had read that message while sitting

Mark's POV I walked into my office at 8:47 AM, coffee in hand, a fresh suit on my back, and a hard-on that hadn't fully subsided since I left Room 14. This morning had been a master class in acting. I had kissed Elena goodbye at the front door, told her I loved her, and smiled at her like nothing in the world was wrong. She had absolutely no idea that her husband had spent the night buried in a twenty-two-year-old girl, coming undone in ways he hadn't felt in decades. Now, sitting in my leather chair behind my mahogany desk, the charade was over. The mask was off and I was alone with my dangerous, filthy, consuming thoughts. I set down the coffee and leaned back in my chair, loosening my tie. My office was quiet, the door closed, the blinds drawn. The floor was barely awake—just a few early risers tapping at keyboards down the hall. The hum of the air conditioner was the only sound, low and steady, doing nothing to cool the heat rising in my chest. I reached into my pocket and p

Rebecca's POV The sun was barely creeping over the horizon when I pulled into my driveway. The streets were empty, the houses still dark, the world wrapped in that fragile, innocent silence that only exists at dawn. I killed the engine and sat in the driver’s seat for a long momentMy black dress was wrinkled, it clinged to my skin like a second layer of shame. It smelled faintly of cheap motel soap and something else—something woodsy and masculine that I had come to recognize as his scent. I could still feel his hands on my hips, rough and possessive. I could still hear his voice in my ear, low and ragged, ordering me not to stop.I closed my eyes and exhaled slowly, trying to push the memories back into the dark corner of my mind where I kept them hidden.You're home now and you're safe.But I didn’t feel safe. I felt hollow.I slipped out of the car, careful not to let the door slam shut. I crept up the front steps, easing the key into the lock with practiced silence. The door cli

Mark's POVI arrived at Room 14 at 8:10 PM. I was fifty minutes early. I knew it was pathetic. I was a grown man, forty-four years old, built from steel and concrete, and I was pacing a cheap motel room like a teenager waiting for his first hookup.But I couldn't help it.The first time had been a taste. A fleeting, hungry bite of something forbidden, and now, I was starving.I had spent the last four days replaying every second of that first night. The way her body had felt beneath mine. The way she had gasped when I entered her. The way her nails had dug into my shoulders as she came undone.I had sat across from Elena at dinner, smiled, nodded, and pretended everything was fine. I had slept in my own bed, my wife's body inches away from mine, while my mind was somewhere else entirely.Somewhere in Room 14.I checked my phone again. No messages. She said she was coming, but the clock was ticking, and the doubt was creeping in.What if she doesn't show? What if the guilt got to her?

Rebecca's POV I had been back home for three days since the motel. Three days of smiling at breakfast and nodding along to my mother’s chatter about the neighborhood gossip. Three days of pretending I wasn't counting the hours until I could see Mark again. But the worst part wasn’t the pretending, it was my father.Dave had always been a warm, easygoing man, the kind of dad who never missed a soccer game, never raised his voice, and always made time to sit on the porch with me and watch the fireflies. Tonight, as I walked downstairs to grab a glass of water, I found him alone in the living room, staring at the muted television, with a glass of whiskey in his hand."Hey, sweetheart," he said, looking up. His voice was soft and affectionate. "Can't sleep?"I froze in the doorway. "I'm just thirsty."He patted the empty spot on the couch beside him. "Come sit with your old man for a bit."My stomach twisted. I wanted to run back upstairs but I forced my feet to move, sinking into the c

Mark’s POVI watched her taillights disappear around the bend of Route 9. I stood barefoot on the gravel outside the motel, the morning chill biting at my skin, and I didn't move until the red glow was completely swallowed by the horizon.Then I closed the door, leaned against it, and let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding.What the hell have I done?The room still smelled like her. Cheap motel soap, stale air, and that sweet, intoxicating scent of her skin. I walked over to the bed, picked up her discarded hair tie from the nightstand, and slipped it into my pocket.Pathetic. I knew it was pathetic. But I needed something…anything, to carry with me.I dressed in silence. My hands moved mechanically; buttoning my shirt, zipping my jeans, tying my boots. I checked the room three times to make sure I hadn't left anything behind. No traces or proof, just memories that were already burning holes in my chest.I walked out, locked the door, and got into my SUV.I pulled out o

Finn's POV The first week after Naomi left was strange. The house felt different—lighter, somehow. Like a weight had been lifted. I found myself walking through the rooms without looking over my shoulder. I slept through the night without waking at every creak. I laughed, I breathed and I lived. But there was something else. A feeling I couldn't shake. I told myself it was nothing. Probably paranoia. A leftover fear from everything we had been through, but the feeling wouldn't go away. --- It started with small things. A car parked across the street that I'd never seen before. It was there in the morning when I looked out the window, and gone by noon. But it was back the next day. And the next. I mentioned it to Grant over breakfast. "There's a car across the street," I said, keeping my voice casual. "I've seen it a few times." Grant looked up from his newspaper, his brow furrowing. "What kind of car?" "Black sedan. I don't recognize it." He set down the paper, his expressi

Finn's POV The light in the study flickered. I stood frozen beside the car, Grant's hand gripping mine, my heart pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears. The figure moved again, silhouetted against the curtain. Then the front door opened.Naomi stepped out.She looked different. Thinner. Paler. The usual polish was gone, replaced by something raw and desperate. Her hair was pulled back in a messy knot. Her clothes were rumpled, like she'd been traveling for days."Finn." Her voice was soft. Almost fragile. "Grant. I need to talk to you."I didn't move. I couldn't. The woman who had tried to destroy us was standing in our doorway like nothing had happened."You're supposed to be in another country," Grant said, his voice cold."I went. I got there. And then I—" She stopped, her voice cracking. "I couldn't stay away. I couldn't leave things like this.""Like what?" I heard myself ask.Naomi flinched. "I know. I know what I did. And I know I don't deserve your forgiveness. But I nee

Finn's POV The peace lasted for four days.Four days of waking up in Grant's arms. Four days of long walks and lazy afternoons. Four days of pretending the world didn't exist. It was everything I'd ever wanted. Everything I'd ever dreamed of.But on the fifth morning, the doubts crept back in.I woke before Grant, the pale light of dawn filtering through the curtains. He was still asleep, his arm draped across my waist, his breathing slow and even. I watched him for a long moment, tracing the lines of his face with my eyes. He looked peaceful. Happy. Younger.And I felt a familiar ache in my chest.What happens when we go back? What happens when the world finds out? What happens when he realizes he could have someone easier? Someone less complicated? Someone who wasn't his stepson?I hated the thoughts and i hated myself for having them. But they wouldn't leave. They never did.Grant stirred beside me, his eyes fluttering open. He smiled when he saw me, soft and warm."Morning," he m

Finn's POV The drive took six hours. Grant drove, his hand resting on my thigh, his thumb tracing lazy circles on my skin. I watched the city fade behind us, replaced by rolling hills and dense forests. The further we got, the lighter I felt. Like I was shedding layers of fear I hadn't even realized I was carrying. "We're almost there," Grant said, glancing at me. "You okay?" I smiled, soft and genuine. "I'm better than okay." He squeezed my thigh, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Good." The cabin was nestled deep in the woods, surrounded by towering pines and a small lake that glittered in the afternoon sun. It was modest but beautiful, wooden walls, a stone fireplace, a wraparound porch with rocking chairs. It looked like something out of a dream. "Grant." I stepped out of the car, my breath catching. "It's perfect." He came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist. "I wanted somewhere quiet. Somewhere we could just be us." I turned in his arms, pressing a kiss to

Finn's POV The house was quiet. Not the kind of quiet that felt empty or lonely. The kind of quiet that came after a storm, when the rain had stopped and the world was still. That kind of quiet that let you breathe. Naomi was gone. Derek was in custody. The letter was in Grant's safe. For the first time in months, there was no threat looming over us. Just us. I stood in the kitchen, staring out the window at the garden. The sun was setting, casting long shadows across the grass. It was beautiful and peaceful. I'd almost forgotten what peace felt like. Grant came up behind me, his arms wrapping around my waist. He rested his chin on my shoulder, his breath warm against my neck. "What are you thinking about?" he asked. "Nothing." I leaned into him. "Everything. I don't even know." He pressed a kiss to my temple. "That's okay. You don't have to know." We stood there for a long time, just holding each other. The weight of everything we'd been through pressed down on us, but som

Finn's POV The envelope felt heavy in Grant's hands. He stood in the foyer, his face pale, his eyes fixed on the letter like it might explode. I was still pressed against him, my arms wrapped around his waist, my heart pounding against his chest."I got it," he'd said. And I'd sobbed with relief.But now, standing here, looking at that envelope, I realized the war wasn't over. It was just beginning."Open it," I said, my voice quiet.Grant looked at me. "Are you sure? Once we know what's in it....""I need to know." I pulled back, meeting his eyes. "I need to know what she wrote. What she was going to use against us."He was silent for a moment. Then he nodded slowly."Let's go to the study."We sat side by side on the leather couch, the envelope between us. Grant's hands were steady as he opened it, mine were shaking. I watched him pull out the contents, a stack of papers, covered in Naomi's elegant handwriting. There were photographs too. Grainy, blurred, but unmistakable.I reache