Novels by Carstairs

Ronan Foley POVTwo Years Later“You know the new CEO of M&A is being introduced today?” Jules said as we rode the elevator up to the firm’s offices, starting another day of work.I held an espresso in one hand, my briefcase in the other. The morning felt calm, and I hoped it would stay that way. But at Jules’s words—my best friend’s voice cutting through the quiet—my brow furrowed, irritation creeping in. “Something I still can’t wrap my head around,” I muttered, displeased.Mr. Conner, the old CEO, had been ousted after a shareholder meeting without so much as a plausible reason, completely shaking up the firm’s dynamics with this new CEO.“Word is, it’s Lowell Morgan’s own daughter, the god of this whole operation,” Jules said with a chuckle. “They say she’s a spoiled, self-centered brat who got tired of her lavish jet-setting lifestyle and decided to meddle in the family business. Bet she’s gonna be a handful.”I sighed, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. The last thing I needed

Destiny POVThe words hung in the air like a death sentence: You’re pregnant. William Serrano’s voice echoed in my head, each syllable a hammer striking the fragile pieces of my already shattered world. Pregnant. Me. Carrying Ronan’s child, right when he’d kicked me to the curb like I was nothing more than a used tissue. My knees buckled, and before I knew it, I was shoving William’s arms away, tears streaming down my face as I stumbled out of his fancy Upper East Side townhouse. I didn’t care that my heels were slipping on the polished hardwood or that the cold Manhattan air bit at my bare arms. I just wanted to disappear, to vanish into the city’s chaos and let it swallow me whole.I wandered the streets, my red satin dress still stained with dirt from last night’s accident, the Band-Aid on my forehead itching like a reminder of my humiliation. The Upper East Side loomed around me—townhouses lined up like stone sentinels, their windows reflecting the golden glow of the afternoon

Destiny POVI woke to sunlight streaming through a crack in the window. The sheets were so soft and the bed so comfortable and fragrant that I wanted to sleep more, but a wave of unease hit me. I didn’t recognize this place.I found myself in a large room with industrial decor: gray and earthy tones, jazz-rock posters on the walls, a chandelier hanging from the ceiling, a large window tilted open, and a brick wall lined with shelves packed with vinyl records. You could tell the owner had a thing for music—and cigarettes, too, judging by the faint smoky scent mixed with a comforting, woody cologne.I got up, confused, trying to piece together what was happening. I remembered getting hit by a car and passing out last night. I thought I’d wake up in a hospital or something, not in a place I’d never seen before.The door opened, and a man walked in carrying a tray that looked like breakfast. “Oh, you’re awake,” he said cheerfully, as if having a strange woman wake up in his bed was the m

Destiny POVThe portrait of my husband and me hanging on the wall of our apartment smiled at me, but in that moment, it felt like it was mocking me. Ronan Foley, my husband of five years, had just called to tell me to pack my bags and leave—that it was all over.The phone slipped slowly from my hand as I stood frozen in shock, unable to process what was happening. Over all these years, I’d imagined so many things—how my life would’ve been if I hadn’t met Ronan, or if I hadn’t chosen a different path when I chose him in that hospital, or worse, if the treatment had failed and Ronan had left this world, leaving me alone.But never, not once, had I considered the possibility that he would want me out of his life.What was this? Had my entire life been a lie all this time? Had I spent years living with a man I barely knew? Sharing my life with someone completely different from who I thought he was?Suddenly, with a bitter taste in my mouth, nothing made sense anymore. That picture on the

Destiny POVWhen I met Ronan, I was volunteering at a public hospital. I was the daughter of one of the most powerful families in the entire country, but my whole life was kept secret to give me some privacy—after all, I could easily become a target for my father’s enemies.Despite his immense wealth, my father had strict values that had to be followed. So, because I was going through a rebellious phase, he sent me to do community service to remind me of what really mattered in life.At first, I hated it. But after a while, I realized it was kind of nice to care for the sick, especially the kids with cancer.Then I met him—about my age, handsome, but weakened by his illness. His hair was shaved, his body thin, and his eyes tired, yet he was still breathtakingly attractive.“It’s acute leukemia,” he said suddenly, catching me staring at him out of the corner of my eye. “You can talk to me, you know. I don’t bite—just dying, that’s all.”He had this way of facing his situation with humo