Novels by Obi Praise

Adrian was already seated when Elena walked into the private room, Damian a step behind her, close enough to touch but careful, deliberately, not to hover.She hadn't expected the sight of him to do anything to her anymore. She'd spent two weeks certain the sight of Adrian Whitmore would land like nothing, a closed door, a name that belonged to someone else's life now. Instead she felt something colder settle in her chest, the particular fury of looking at a man who had once let her believe she was loved while he quietly funded a second family behind her back."You look well," Adrian said, standing as she approached, something careful and searching in his expression. "Marriage suits you.""Say what you came to say," Elena said, taking the seat across from him without offering pleasantries. Damian remained standing behind her chair, a quiet, immovable presence she felt more than saw.Adrian's gaze flicked to him once, assessing, before returning to Elena. "Can we speak alone?""No," Da

"You're not meeting him alone," Damian said, before Elena had even set the phone down."I wasn't planning to.""Good." He was already reaching for his jacket, movements sharp with the same controlled urgency she'd seen the night his father walked into their wedding. "Because whatever Adrian thinks he knows, I want to be in the room when he says it."Elena caught his wrist before he could pull the jacket on, something in her chest twisting at the sight of him ready to go to war on her behalf without a second's hesitation. "Not tonight," she said. "We've been awake for twenty four hours. My father's name is trending across every outlet in the city, your father just declared war on both of us, and now you want to add Adrian into the same night?""You're exhausted.""I'm exhausted," she agreed. "And so are you, even if you'll never admit it."Something in his expression softened, the sharp edges of the last few hours easing slightly under her hand still wrapped around his wrist. "What do

"How long until dawn," Damian asked, already moving, already pulling his phone from his pocket before the staff member had fully left the room."Four hours," Elena said, checking the clock on the wall, her voice steadier than she felt. Grief and fear were fighting for space in her chest, but underneath both of them, something else was rising too. Something that felt, unmistakably, like her father's stubbornness finally surfacing in her."Four hours is enough time to burn a story down before it ever reaches print," Damian said, dialing a number without waiting for her agreement. "It's not enough time to hide from it.""Then don't hide from it."He looked up at her, phone still ringing against his ear, something sharpening in his expression at the certainty in her voice."What are you thinking?""Your father wants to control the narrative," Elena said, the plan forming even as she spoke it aloud. "He wants to be the one who reveals I'm Richard Marsh's daughter, on his terms, in a way th

Damian led her back to his study, the same room where he'd shown her the folder the night before, except now the house had emptied of guests and the silence between them felt heavier, charged with everything still left unspoken.He set the folder down between them again, but this time he opened it.Elena's breath caught at the first page. A photograph of her father, younger than she'd ever seen him, standing beside a man she recognized instantly, even decades removed from the version who'd just walked out of her wedding. Marcus Cole, arm slung easily around Richard Marsh's shoulders, both of them grinning at whoever held the camera, unaware of everything that would eventually come between them."They were closer than business partners," Damian said quietly. "They were friends. Real ones. My father's changed a great deal since that photograph was taken, but he wasn't always the man who walked into that conservatory tonight.""What happened to him?""Ambition happened," Damian said. "Sl

Elena felt Damian go rigid beside her before she even turned toward the doorway."Stay close to me," he said quietly, all the softness from moments ago folding itself away, replaced by something colder, more controlled. "Whatever he says, let me answer first.""I'm not hiding behind you.""I'm not asking you to hide." His hand found hers, steady despite the tension radiating off him. "I'm asking you to let me buy us time to think before he realizes exactly what he's looking at."Too late for that, Elena thought, watching the man walk through the conservatory doors.Marcus Cole moved the way his son did, unhurried, aware of the exact amount of space a room owed him. He was older, silver haired, sharper around the eyes in a way that had nothing to do with age and everything to do with decades spent deciding other people's fates over dinner. He crossed the room without acknowledging a single guest, his gaze fixed entirely on Elena, and something in the way he studied her face made the ba

The dress fit like it had been made for a different version of her, one who believed in weddings the way she used to before she learned exactly how easily they could be forged.Elena stood in front of the mirror while Vivienne adjusted the veil behind her, both of them silent, the air in the room thick with everything neither of them was saying. Ten days had turned into this. A private ceremony, hastily assembled, guests limited to the smallest circle Damian trusted, all of it moving too fast for her to feel anything except the strange, suspended calm of a person standing at the edge of something she couldn't take back."Nervous?" Vivienne asked, meeting her eyes in the mirror."Terrified," Elena admitted. "Just not of the part everyone expects."Vivienne's mouth curved, something almost gentle passing behind her sharp features. "My son doesn't do anything without calculating the cost first. Ten years I've watched him negotiate deals worth more than small countries without blinking on