Novels by Dulcie Rose

STOP INVESTIGATING, OR YOUR FATHER'S FATE WILL BE YOURS.I read the message again, then saved a screenshot.Whoever sent it knew about my investigation. That meant someone inside Crosswell was watching me.I called my lawyer."Find out who owns this number. And I need access to my father's old company records.""Any particular reason?""Someone is trying to stop me from finding something."I ended the call before he could ask more questions.By ten that morning, I was in Crosswell's archive room, searching through dusty boxes of inspection reports. Most contained ordinary paperwork until I found a folder marked CW-7149.The same shipment number.I opened it.The report was nearly two years old. Several pages were missing, but the remaining ones showed that a shipment travelling through Port Mason had been flagged for incomplete safety documentation.At the bottom was my father's signature.Beneath it, a warning had been typed in bold letters.DO NOT AUTHORIZE FURTHER MOVEMENT UNTIL IN

“Do not let those containers reach the water supply.”Adrian Voss's warning stayed with me long after the call ended.I looked at the photograph on my laptop. Two chemical drums sat beside a blocked drain at Port Mason, their labels barely readable. One had already started leaking.And Daniel wanted the shipment released.I called Adrian back.“How do you know about these containers?”“I reviewed the original transfer request,” he answered. “The paperwork doesn't match the contents, and someone removed information from the safety records.”“Who?”“I can't prove that yet.”“Then why should I trust you?”“You shouldn't. Check the shipment number yourself. Then ask why two extra drums arrived without appearing on the manifest.”The call ended.I stared at the screen.He was right about one thing. I didn't have to trust him to investigate the evidence.I forwarded the warehouse records to Crosswell's lawyer and ordered an independent inspection. Until the drums were identified, nothing wo

By the time I reached Port Mason, the rain had started.It wasn't heavy yet. A thin sheet of water covered the windscreen as my driver turned off the main road and followed a narrow lane toward the docks. Beyond the fence, cranes stood against a grey sky, their long arms hanging over cargo ships.I had spent the drive reading the shipment records.Industrial filters. Water containers. Chemical storage drums.The paperwork described an ordinary delivery. The warehouse manager's report described a building with drainage problems. Neither document explained why Daniel had insisted the shipment was urgent.“That's the place,” my driver said.Port Mason Warehouse Four stood behind a row of shipping containers. The paint on its metal doors had peeled in long strips, and a dark stain ran along the bottom of the outer wall. Two workers were dragging a wooden pallet away from a shallow pool of water.I opened the car door.Diesel fumes mixed with the smell of wet concrete. Somewhere inside, a

The first person to tell me I couldn't have my own company was a man who worked for my father.I arrived at Crosswell Logistics at nine fifteen that morning, carrying a leather folder and the kind of anger that made my hands feel steady.The building stood behind a row of glass offices on the east side of the city. Trucks rolled in and out of the loading yard, their engines rumbling beneath the sharp beeping of reversing alarms. Workers in orange vests moved pallets across the concrete. Everything looked ordinary.I knew how quickly that could change.In sixty days, the loading yard would be underwater. The road outside would become a river. Half the trucks parked here would be useless, and people would fight over the few that still ran.I couldn't save every truck.But I could decide what happened to them.The receptionist looked up as I approached.“Good morning, Mrs. Mercer. Is Mr. Pike expecting you?”“No. But tell him I'm here.”Her fingers paused above the keyboard.“Should I as

The last thing my husband gave me was a look that said I wasn't worth saving.Rain hammered the evacuation gate hard enough to drown out the screams behind me. Water rushed through the streets, carrying broken furniture, dead branches, and a child's red shoe. Somewhere nearby, a car alarm kept ringing beneath the rising flood.I could barely stand.Blood ran from a cut above my knee, mixing with the dirty water around my boots. My fingers had gone numb. Still, I kept hold of the metal railing and dragged myself toward the only open evacuation truck.“Daniel!”My husband stood beside it in a dry black coat, one arm wrapped around Celeste Vale.His mistress.Even then, with the city dying around us, she looked as if she'd stepped out of a magazine. Her blond hair clung to her cheeks, and her white dress was soaked at the hem. She had one hand pressed to her mouth, pretending to be frightened.Daniel held her tighter.“Please,” I called. “There's room for three.”A rescue worker glanced

“Why was my father afraid of Charles Whitmore?”Jonathan Reed didn't answer immediately.He stood beside his office window, looking down at the busy street below. Cars moved through the traffic while people hurried along the pavement, unaware that my entire life had just changed.When he finally turned around, his expression had grown serious.“Your father trusted very few people with his business affairs, Elena. Charles was one of them. They built Sterling Group together, but in the months before the accident, their relationship changed.”I leaned forward.“Changed how?”“Alexander began questioning certain payments. Money was leaving the company through accounts he couldn't explain. When he asked Charles about them, he was given answers that didn't satisfy him.”Jonathan opened a drawer and removed a thin folder.“These are copies of the records your father managed to keep. Unfortunately, some of the original documents disappeared after his death.”I took the folder from him.The fi

“Your twenty-fifth birthday is approaching, and there is something your father left in my care. Something you need to know before it's too late.”I gripped my phone.“My father?”“Yes, Elena. I know this call must come as a surprise. But I've waited a long time to speak with you.”I stared through the car window. Sienna was driving, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting near the gearshift.“What did he leave me?” I asked.“It's something I cannot explain properly over the phone. Can you meet me tomorrow morning?”I hesitated.After what had happened with Adrian, trusting anyone felt dangerous.But this man knew my father.“What is your name again?”“Jonathan Reed. I was your father's lawyer.”The name stirred something in my memory. I had seen it on old documents years ago, before my life changed forever.“Tomorrow,” I said.“Ten o'clock. I'll send you the address.”When the call ended, I sat without moving.Sienna glanced at me.“Who was that?”“My father's lawyer.”Her f

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway made Sienna turn toward the window.“He's back.”I stood beside the sofa, my fingers resting on the handle of my small suitcase.I had been home for less than twenty minutes.The house looked exactly as I remembered it. The crystal chandelier still hung above the staircase. The flowers on the center table were fresh. Even the wedding photograph on the wall remained untouched.Three years of my life were inside these walls.Three years of waiting for a man who never seemed to have time for me.Sienna moved closer.“Are you sure you want to do this today? You just got out of the hospital.”I nodded.I had spent enough time waiting for Adrian to care about what happened to me.I wasn't going to wait another day to leave him.The front door opened.Adrian walked in, dressed in a black suit, his phone pressed to his ear. He was saying something about a meeting when he stepped aside to let the woman behind him enter.Victoria.She wore a cream dr

Sienna arrived at the hospital with her hair a mess and her handbag hanging from one shoulder.The moment she saw me in bed, her face crumpled.“Elena…”She hurried to my side and took my hand, careful of the needle taped to it.“What happened to you?”I looked at Ethan.He stood near the window, his face drawn with exhaustion.I picked up the notepad beside my bed and wrote three words.Adrian chose Victoria.Sienna read them.For a moment, she said nothing. Then she looked at Ethan.“He chose that woman and left Elena behind?”Ethan's jaw tightened. “That's what happened.”Sienna let out a sharp, disbelieving laugh.“Oh, I swear to God, I could kill that man.”“Sienna,” Ethan warned quietly.“No! Don't Sienna me!” She threw her free hand into the air. “His wife was kidnapped. She nearly died trying to escape, and he chose another woman in front of her!”Her voice shook with anger.“And where is he now? Where is the man who stood in front of a priest and called himself her husband?”

The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was the smell.Antiseptic.Then came the pain.My head throbbed, my body felt heavy, and even moving my fingers took effort. I tried to sit up, but a sharp pain stopped me."Elena?"I turned toward the voice.Ethan sat beside my hospital bed. His hair was messy, and his eyes looked tired. The moment he saw me looking at him, he stood."You're awake."I stared at him, confused.The last thing I remembered was the railing giving way beneath my hand. Then the ground rushing toward me.I lifted my hands and signed, *What am I doing here?*Ethan pulled his chair closer."I found you lying lifeless on the floor. You weren't responding, Elena." His voice broke slightly. "For a moment, I thought I'd lost you."My hands trembled.I remembered the warehouse. The gun. Adrian standing between Victoria and me.*Victoria.*I swallowed hard and looked around the room.Then I signed, *Where is the nurse?*"One minute."Ethan hurried out.I lowered my ha

I had spent three years wondering what it would take for my husband to choose me.Tonight, I finally found out.And I almost wished I hadn't.My wrists were tied so tightly behind my back that my fingers had gone numb. Blood had dried at the corner of my mouth. The warehouse stank of rust and gasoline.Across the concrete, Victoria Laurent was crying.Beautiful tears. Perfect tears. Not one of them had touched her mascara.I knew her too well to believe them.A gun was pressed to her temple, yet she looked at Adrian as if the rest of the world had stopped existing. As if he had always belonged to her.Maybe he had. Maybe I was the only fool who never accepted it.The warehouse door opened, and Adrian walked in.My husband wore a black suit torn at the shoulder, blood running down his temple. For the first time in three years, Adrian Blackwood, the cold, untouchable billionaire, looked afraid.Not for himself.I knew exactly who he was afraid for.It wasn't me.He stood between us, loo