Novels by Tory

I never thought I’d end up hiding inside Alexander’s house. But that’s exactly what it had become for me. The footage Sloane released had spread like wildfire, and even though Alexander had scrambled immediately to pull every string he could to erase it from the campus blog, the damage was done. But Alexander wasn’t letting me fight this alone. He had gathered everything. Sever logs, hidden IP traces, timestamps. I sat on the edge of his couch, hugging my knees while he worked at his multiple monitors. His face was illuminated by the cold blue light. “She didn’t even bother to mask her trail,” he muttered, pulling up another window. “That’s arrogance for you. She thought no one would touch her. She must’ve forgotten who I am.” “Can we really prove it’s her?” Alexander swiveled in his chair, meeting my eyes. “Kim... we already did. Look.” He turned the screen toward me. A string of numbers and letters I didn’t understand glared back at me. “That’s her login. Her device. The files w

I walked past Sloane as I entered the living room. My hands tightened at my sides. “Sloane,” I said again. “What are you doing here? How do you even know where she lives? Why are you here, Sloane?” She flinched slightly, her hand brushing over her arm. “Kim, it’s not that deep—” “Not that deep?” I cut her off, my voice pitching louder. “You’re in my sister's apartment. And I don’t even know you were close enough to her to be here.” My chest rose and fell in shaky bursts. “When exactly did that happen, huh? When did you get close to her behind my back?” Her eyes flicked away, and she let out a nervous laugh. “It’s not... Look, it’s complicated.” “Complicated?” I repeated, stepping closer. “How long have you two been—whatever this is? Friends? How long have you been going behind my back?” She sighed dramatically, like I was exhausting her. “Kim, don’t make this bigger than it is—” “Bigger than it is?” My throat burned. “This is my sister. And none of this makes sense! You kept thi

Alexander was on me instantly. His arm swept around my shoulders, pulling me tightly against him. “Don’t look at it. Don’t, please.” “My sister...” The words barely broke past my lips. “Everyone... the whole school.” Alexander pressed my face into his chest, his palm shielding my head. “Don’t look,” he repeated. Across from us, Adrian still hadn’t moved. His eyes were locked on this phone. “Adrian,” Alexander barked, but there was no response. Adrian’s lips moved, muttering curses under his breath, but he didn’t look up. He was transfixed, as though the footage had him nailed to the couch. I was trembling, tears streaming freely down my face as I clung to Alexander’s shirt. Alexander shifted, keeping me shielded as he bent to pick my phone up from the floor with his free hand. He locked it without glancing at the screen and shoved it into his pocket. “We’re leaving,” Alexander said flatly as he turned to Adrian. Adrian didn’t move. His gaze was still glued to his phone screen,

I blinked, the room spinning slightly. “What did you say?” Adrian nodded. “Genevieve is the anonymous mailer. That’s what we were fighting about today in the lot.” He exhaled harshly, dragging a hand through his hair. “She found out. And then she—” His voice faltered. “She broke up with me.” I stood there, frozen, every nerve in my body ringing with shock. I slowly went back to Alexander and sat down beside him. Adrian sank into the couch opposite us, his hands dragging down his face. He looked tired. He leaned back, staring at the ceiling, then exhaled sharply. “Fine,” he finally said. “I won’t lie about it. Yes, the mail came from my house. From my network and probably from my own computer.” My heart lurched, and I gripped the edge of the couch where Alexander and I sat, my nails digging into the fabric. But before I could form words, Adrian tilted his head back toward me, his expression almost pleading. “But it wasn’t me,” he continued, voice breaking through my panic. “Believ

“Kim,” Alexander said slowly. “With Tessa’s cooperation, I managed to narrow everything down. I traced the mail. Every IP, every reroute. It wasn’t easy, but I got the exact place it was sent from.” My chest tightened. “And?” He turned his head toward me, then his eyes got dark, almost apologetic. “Promise me you won’t overreact to what I’m about to say.” “I’ll be calm. Just tell me.” He inhaled deeply. “The mail was sent from Adrian’s address, his apartment.” I froze in place. My body went still, and I could barely breathe. He kept talking, watching me carefully. “I know it’s his place since I’ve been there. When we were at his apartment, I tapped on his network for this particular purpose. And this mail came from that network. I recognize it. I triple checked it before I even called you down here. It wasn’t some mistake, Kim. It came from his house, so it’s him.” My ears rang. I stared at Alexander, but my mind was somewhere else. I couldn’t believe Adrian could betray me lik

As we entered our dorm room, I dropped my bag on the floor and exhaled sharply, pressing my back against the wall for a second as though I needed it to hold me up. Sloane stretched lazily, kicking off her shoes as if she hadn’t just witnessed me nearly bolt out of the car to my sister’s defense. She ran her finger through her hair, and she spoke in a light tone. “I hope you’re not worried about your sister and her relationship.” I turned my head toward her, narrowing my eyes. “I’m not even thinking about that,” I said flatly. She paused, one eyebrow arching as she was clearly intrigued. “Oh?” She took a few steps closer, folding her arms across her chest. “Then, what are you thinking about, Kim?” I pushed off the wall and walked toward my desk, sliding into the chair just to put some space between us. I fiddled with a pen, my eyes on it instead of her. “I met with Tessa.” Sloane’s body stilled. “You what?” she asked. “I met with her,” I repeated, still not meeting her eyes. Sh

By the time my mother finished her breakfast, the sun had risen high. I wanted her to feel comfortable, wanted her to see everything this life had to offer. So, I stood at the entrance of the east wing, watching her adjust her shawl. “Ready for your tour?” I asked, trying to sound cheerful. She turned to me, her expression was unreadable as usual. “Tour?” “Yes,” I said with a smile. “You haven’t seen the rest of the estate yet. It’s quite something.” She made a faint hum, somewhere between a sigh and a scoff. “If you insist.” I led the way as we passed through the long corridor. “This hallway alone could fit my entire house twice over,” my mother murmured. I chuckled. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” “It is,” she said curtly. “No one needs this much space. You could lose a child in here and not notice until dinner.” I decided not to comment on that. Instead, I pointed toward the double doors ahead. “This leads to the library.” When I opened them, the faint smell of aged

I had spent the morning hours with some of the housemaids preparing my mother’s new room for her. My sleeves were rolled up, my hair tied in a messy bun, and for the first time in a long while, I didn’t care that my manicured nails had smudges of dust on them. I wanted everything to be perfect. “This should go to the corner,” I said, pointing to the small vase filled with white lilies. One of the maids nodded, moving it obediently to the bedside table. “Will that be all, Mrs. Wendell?” she asked. “Yes, thank you,” I said, smiling faintly. “You’ve all done wonderfully today.” They curtsied slightly before exiting the room. As soon as the door clicked shut, I looked around at the now spotless guest bedroom that was soon to be her bedroom. My mother’s. Maybe now, she’d finally be proud of me. I was fluffing one of the pillows when a quiet knock came at the door. Before I could answer, Ace stepped inside. He leaned casually against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest, with

I lay curled up on the bed, my face pressed into the pillow, soaking it with tears I hated myself for shedding. I knew what I was doing. I knew it was childish. But my chest ached with the feeling of disappointing my mother. The bedroom door opened, and I didn’t move. I didn’t need to look to know it was him. Then the mattress dipped, and I could suddenly feel his warmth as they spread beside me. He didn’t touch me. He didn’t need to. “Sabrina…” he said quietly. His voice was soft. “Sweetheart, look at me. Please.” I didn’t move. Stubbornness glued me to my curled position. He sighed and leaned closer. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I made you feel unwelcome. I’m sorry you’re sad. That wasn’t my intention, none of them were.” A tear slid down my temple into my hair. My fists tightened around the blanket. “But you being upset doesn’t change the fact that you disrespected me downstairs,” he continued softly. “Yelling at me in my own house… in front of Ace and in front of e

I spent the rest of the day pacing my room, the walls closing in tighter with every minute that passed. I couldn’t focus on anything except my mother’s face. The disappointment, the desperation, and the heartbreak when I had to leave her behind in Oregon. My chest still ached with the hug she never gave me. Every time I blinked, I saw the way she’d turned away. It was starting to look like my mother was right. No matter how much everyone said he cared about me, it felt like he only cared when it fit his terms. He controlled who entered my life, and now he was deciding who could stay in it. I hated how powerless that made me feel. The sun had already started setting by the time I left my room again. I walked down the hall and into the living room, where Ace was sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone. The moment he noticed me, he stood up, concerned. “You okay?” he asked quietly. I nodded. “Just tired… thinking too much.” He didn’t push any further. Instead, he gently r

The driver pulled into the long, curved driveway of our home just as the sun began to dip lower in the sky. Harold parked at the front entrance. Before he could reach my door, I pushed it open myself. I thanked him quietly, to which he only nodded, his face unreadable, and then I walked toward the front doors. I stepped into the grand foyer. Then a voice cut through. “Where the hell have you been?” I turned sharply toward the staircase. Ace stood halfway down, his hand gripping the railing. He wore a plain black T-shirt, though nothing about him was plain. Dark hair, messy like he’d run his fingers through it too many times. Eyes sharp but not angry, just deeply concerned. “Ace…” I breathed. He descended the stairs quickly, stopping only a foot away from me. His gaze scanned my face, as if he were searching for signs of damage. “You didn’t answer my texts,” he said. “Or calls. You just disappeared. Do you have any idea—” “I was with my mother,” I cut in, offering a small, tir

I sat in the back seat with my hands folded tightly on my lap, staring at my phone. The screen stayed dark, though I checked it repeatedly as if somehow, a message from him might pop up the second I stopped looking. When the sign for Los Angeles passed us by, my pulse began to race. I leaned forward a little, clutching the seat in front of me. “Harold.” That was the driver’s name. “Yes, ma’am?” he replied. “Before we go home… I want to see my husband.” He blinked in the mirror. “Mr. Wendell asked that I take you directly—” “To the house,” I finished for him, nodding. “I know what he said. But I am his wife, and I want to see him first.” He swallowed, clearly uncomfortable. “Ma’am, I could lose my job if—” “I will take the responsibility,” I insisted. “You can tell him I insisted. Please… take me to my husband’s company right now.” He hesitated, but finally he sighed and nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” I was relieved that I had to sit back and breathe. I pressed my palm to my chest, fe