Novels by Flowervil

Damon Westwood The fresh air caressed my face, the sound of the waves was soothing. The sky was starry and the heavenly atmosphere of our hotel made the moment even more magical. The Maldives was an obvious choice for Sasha. She wanted to spend our honeymoon in the sun and tanning. So I followed him. I still couldn't believe it. Pinch me I'm dreaming. When Jonathan called me a few days after showing up at my house completely drunk, he said he had to talk to me and that it was a matter of life and death. At first I was skeptical, what he wanted to talk about was so important. He arranged to meet me at a restaurant not far from his office. He looked anxious. He only wanted Sasha to do something that she will surely regret in the near future. -I know you both love each other. He said. Then he offered me something. That I arrange to divorce before marriage. That way I will have the opportunity to propose to Sasha. I was confused and didn't understand why he would

Sasha J. Morales It's really weird that Jonathan wants to talk to me at this exact moment. I don't need an extra dose of stress. I already want to run away and leave everything behind. So I hope it's nothing serious. What’s so important to say? -It can't wait until after the ceremony? -He insists on seeing you now -Uh…Okay. You can give us a moment. -Yes my darling, no worries. My friends accompanied by my mother leave the room. The makeup artists and hair stylists also leave the room and I find him alone for a few minutes before Jonathan enters the room. He freezes the minute he sees me and I can feel admiration in his eyes. -Wow. You are really beautiful. -THANKS. You are just as beautiful. I pick at my nails not knowing where to put myself. This situation is oddly awkward. And normally she shouldn't be since it's my future husband standing in front of me. -I was really lucky to have you in my life. Eu? I'm seriously starting to panic so he takes my hands in his and le

Sasha J. Morales -Don't you think you should slow down on the Margarita, I don't want you to be half tipsy while the ceremony hasn't started yet. -Believe me, it’s the best solution for me to get through this day -You're exaggerating June. I say with a smile It was Saturday morning The Four Seasons was in turmoil Final preparations were underway It was the wedding day. I was completely exhausted even though it was just 11am My mother, June, Sam and Ethan were with me. They were getting their makeup done while Ethan put on his groomsman suit. June was on her third drink and she might end up on the floor if she continued drinking. -I can't believe my baby is getting married. -Me neither. I tell my mother Jonathan wanted us to get married out of town but I insisted we do it here. -I'm really stressed, gee, wouldn't someone have a joint please? -Sasha??? -What mom? ?? Everyone has their own solutions -I have an idea! June screams. How about we run away and run away to Mex

Damon Westwood -Where are we going darling? -It is a surprise. I took my mother in the evening for a little walk. I wanted to get some fresh air before taking him somewhere. We had been at the park for 30 minutes now and we were walking arm in arm. The evening runners were finishing their races, some flower sellers were still present and the lovers were holding hands to enjoy the last rays of the sun. It was really pleasant. -Tell me my son…so there really is more hope with Sasha? I huff before leading her to one of the free benches and making us sit down. -She's getting married, mom. -Damon it’s not- I cut it off immediately. Trying to convince me or give me false hope is completely useless. -Mom, stop, that’s enough. I know that you really like Sasha and that you also want me to be happy, but I think it's time to move on. All I wish for her is that she is happy and if that happiness is near Jonathan then so be it. It breaks my heart to say it out loud but it also makes

Sasha J. Morales I had locked myself in the guest room with a bottle of whiskey in my hand, lying on the floor. It was either half full or half empty. In short, I don't know, my mind is already clouded by alcohol. John hadn't come home yet even though it was well into the night and that suited me, I had no desire to confront him this evening. However, my parents were a completely different story. My mother had been trying to get her out of this damn room for an hour now but I needed to isolate myself a little. I thought I had finally put the past behind me but it caught up with me. Damn, no matter how hard I looked I don't know how they got their hands on this story. I was always careful not to be recognized and Sam always made sure our personal information didn't leak. So how is this possible? I pick up my phone before turning it on. It kept vibrating so I had to turn it off to get some peace. And it’s no surprise that I see missed calls from Ethan, Sam, June but also Jonathan

Damon Westwood -It’s my fault for going to see him. You're obsessed with a divorce that won't happen. Someone had to calm you down We were in our house, I had come home because I had gone to see friends not far away. And I was lazy to drive to my apartment. And I decided to talk to the crazy woman who will soon be my ex-wife. -You really think that involving my father will change anything in our situation. -Someone has to slap you on the wrist, you're behaving like a capricious kid. I massage my eyebrows, I'm on the verge of having a horrible migraine. I start to laugh quietly. -Ella what the hell are you looking for? We are going to divorce and nothing can stop me from doing it, not even my father. -Are you aware that I still have all my physical faculties and that if I refuse to sign you cannot force me to do so? You at least know that, right? Yes I know about it but she won't have a choice. She used me as a pawn to get revenge on Sasha and in our divorce she will be mine.

Dante Moretti The door slammed open with a deafening crack that ricocheted through the marble halls and into the hollow silence of Viktor’s office. My chest heaved, fury boiling beneath my skin like lava with no vent."You son of a bitch!" I roared, my footsteps pounding across the floor like war drums echoing through a battlefield.There he was. Seated calmly behind that monstrous black desk, more like a throne than furniture. A glass of red wine balanced between his fingers like we weren’t at war, like my empire hadn’t just collapsed beneath my feet. His poise, his detachment—it made me want to rip that smug expression off his face.He looked up slowly, his icy eyes locking onto mine. "Good morning to you too, Dante," he said with infuriating composure, raising his glass slightly in a mocking toast.That voice—too calm, too smooth—slid beneath my skin like a blade.I slammed both palms on his desk, leaning forward until our faces were inches apart. “Do you have any idea what just h

Nikolai Volkov The rain drums steadily against the windows of the penthouse, casting a dull rhythm over the war room we’ve assembled in my private office. Zayn leans against the far wall, arms crossed, eyes scanning the intelligence reports one last time. He hasn’t spoken much since he saw Stassie at the hospital—but I can tell something in him snapped that day.We’re both done waiting.“Are you sure you want to go through with it tonight?” Zayn asks, his voice quiet but unwavering.I don’t look up from the laptop. I’m reviewing the latest satellite footage of Dante’s docks—specifically the containers arriving under forged IDs. “I’ve waited long enough. We both have. Dante made this personal. And Viktor…” My jaw clenches. “He made it about blood.”Zayn steps closer to the table, where our blueprint is laid out like a chessboard. “The new shipment lands at midnight. Everything’s ready. We leak the location and the manifest. FBI should be on them by sunrise.”“Good,” I murmur, tapping

Alessia Volkov The sterile white walls of the hospital room have become a second home, a cocoon of pain and waiting. The pale light filtering through the blinds hasn’t changed in days, giving the illusion that time has stalled completely. It’s been over a week since Stassie’s accident, and every second since has stretched into eternity. The rhythmic beep of the heart monitor is the only sound anchoring me to hope, a metronome counting heartbeats like prayers.I sit on the edge of the stiff vinyl chair beside her bed, legs drawn up, arms wrapped around a cup of coffee that’s long since gone cold. I haven’t had a hot drink in days. Haven’t slept properly either. My body aches in places I didn’t even know could hurt, and still, I don’t move. I can’t. As if stepping away might somehow pull her further from me.My gaze lingers on Stassie’s face—pale, delicate, bruised. She looks fragile, too fragile for someone who was always a wildfire. Bandages wrap around her forehead and temple, a sma

Nikolai Volkov The problem with silence is that it gives your thoughts too much room to breathe.Alessia sat across from me at the marble kitchen island, swirling a spoon in her untouched coffee like it had personally offended her. Her sarcasm clung to her like armor—shiny, sharp, and meant to distract from the storm I knew was building behind her eyes. She hadn’t stopped needling me since breakfast began, her barbs thrown with all the casual precision of a woman who refused to let fear rule her.“So let me guess,” she drawled, resting her chin on one hand. “Your grand plan is to brood in dark corners until Viktor spontaneously combusts from guilt?”I didn’t bother looking up from my tablet. “He doesn’t feel guilt. That’s what makes him dangerous.”“Wow,” she said dryly. “Philosophical and vague. Are you trying to seduce me or put me to sleep?”My eyes flicked to her then. Tousled hair, hoodie falling off one shoulder, legs tucked under her on the stool like she hadn’t spent the nigh

Dante MorettiI used to believe I held the reins of my empire with a firm and calculating grip. But Viktor Natov was not a man who tolerated boundaries. His thirst for vengeance had turned into a maddening obsession, and though I had once admired his ruthlessness, it was now a blade pressing against my own throat."This isn't what we agreed to," I muttered, nursing a glass of Chianti as Viktor paced the length of my study. "You said we'd take down Nikolai by cutting off his supply chain and ruining his credibility—not by dragging Alessia into this."Viktor’s sneer twisted his lips. "You want to hurt a man like Volkov? You go for what he protects. What he values. Alessia is leverage."I slammed my glass down so hard it fractured. Red wine bled over the wood like a wound. "That’s my daughter, Viktor."He leaned forward, predatory. "Then maybe you should’ve thought twice before giving her away in marriage like she was cattle."His words struck deeper than any physical blow. I knew what I

Dante Moretti The moment I stepped into the crimson-lit room of the Moretti estate, I knew Viktor was already there. The subtle scent of his custom Bulgarian tobacco, heavy in the air, clung to the velvet curtains and marble walls like a warning. He always arrived early, always with that smug patience that infuriated me more than any insult.He was sitting in my leather armchair, the one Alessia used to curl up in as a child while I read the newspaper. His legs were crossed, his posture too relaxed for a man who claimed to be hunting a monster like Nikolai Volkov."You're late," he said without looking at me.I walked to the bar without responding, pouring myself a glass of bourbon. He always tried to control the tone of our meetings. I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction."You summoned me, Viktor. Don’t pretend this is your palace."He chuckled, finally turning his head to face me. "And yet, I sit on the throne."I downed the drink in one go. "You said you had something urgent