Novels by Swift Pen

~Liliana~Six Months Later.The private villa on the Amalfi Coast feels like another world. Terracotta tiles warm under our bare feet, the distant sound of waves crashing against the cliffs below, and the scent of lemon trees drifting through the open windows. We have escaped here for a week after Rowan finally hands over day-to-day control of several projects to his executives. No press. No custody battles. No pretending.Just us.Rebecca is back home with her grandparents for a short visit, safe and happy. Her laughter still echoes in my ears from our video call earlier. The custody war is truly over. Silvia has stopped fighting months ago, her threats dissolving once the world sees how stable and loved Rebecca is in our home.I stand on the wide balcony in nothing but one of Rowan’s white linen shirts. The fabric brushes my thighs as the evening breeze lifts it. The sun has just slipped below the horizon. Behind me, I hear the soft pad of Rowan’s footsteps. His arms slide around my

~Liliana~Morning light slips through the heavy curtains of Rowan’s bedroom. I wake first, tangled in his arms, my cheek pressed to the rise and fall of his chest. His skin is warm, still carrying the scent of last night—sweat, sex. For a long moment I don’t move. I just listen to his heartbeat, slow and even, and let the weight of everything settle over me.We have won. Rebecca is safe. The custody battle is over. But lying here now, naked and wrapped around the man who paid me to pretend to love him, I feel something far more dangerous than relief. I feel real.Rowan stirs, his arm tightening around my waist as if he senses I might slip away. His eyes open, blue and heavy-lidded, finding mine in the quiet light. No words at first. Just his gaze raking over my face, down the curve of my bare shoulder, across the swell of my breast where the sheet has slipped low.“Good morning,” he murmurs, voice rough from sleep and everything we have done in the dark.“Morning.” I trace a finger al

~Rowan~~~A few months later~~We're in the courtroom. Every little sound, a chair scraping, someone clearing their throat, feels way too loud. I sit there in the front row with Liliana right beside me. Her hand rests on my thigh under the table lightly. It’s supposed to be for show, but I don’t know what the hell it is anymore. My hand covers hers. I keep tracing slow circles on her skin with my thumb where nobody can see.Across the aisle, Silvia sits with her lawyers, her face pulled tight like she’s holding in a scream. Every time she glances our way, her eyes lock on Liliana and me sitting so close. I keep my face calm, the way a man who’s happily married should look. Inside, my stomach is in knots, but it has nothing to do with the judge. It has everything to do with the woman whose fingers are warm against my leg.The judge flips through the last pages, her voice clear and final. “After reviewing all the evidence, including the stable home environment provided by Mr. Cavendish

~Liliana~These days after the gala don’t really settle into anything smooth. They just keep going, one after another, in a way that still catches me off guard. Every morning Rebecca wakes me up the same way, her little hands grabbing my arm and shaking until I open my eyes. She always has some urgent job for us, like lining up her stuffed animals for a big fight or sneaking a few extra strawberries from the kitchen before anyone notices. I catch how she presses closer when we sit with picture books or when she’s trying to write her letters. I don’t rush her. I just let it happen.Mr. Cavendish stays busy during the day. He shuts himself in his office for meetings and phone calls that drag on late. But it doesn’t feel like he’s ignoring me on purpose. When we do run into each other, in the hallway, at dinner, or when he stops by to kiss Rebecca goodnight—his eyes linger on mine a little longer than they need to. He doesn’t touch me much. Just a quick hand at my lower back when we squ

~Liliana~The ink on the contract has barely dried when the reality of what I have done crashes over me like cold water. I stand in the middle of the guest suite that is now officially mine, staring at the walk-in closet that could swallow my entire old apartment. Clothes I haven’t chosen hang in neat rows—soft cashmere sweaters, tailored trousers, silk blouses in shades that somehow flatter my auburn hair and hazel eyes. He has everything planned out already. A note pinned to one of the hangers reads, in that same crisp handwriting: Wear what feels right. The rest can be returned. No signature. Just Mr Cavendish, efficient even in generosity.I run my fingers over a midnight-blue dress that looks like it costs more than three months of my old rent. The fabric is cool and heavy, like it will move like water when I walk. I should feel excited. Instead, my stomach twists with something closer to vertigo. Last night I was throwing up on the man. This morning I signed months of my life aw

~Liliana~The ride back to my tiny apartment feels like stepping off one planet and landing on another. The fancy estate with its perfect green lawns disappears as I stare through the window, replaced by potholed streets, flickering street lamps, and buildings that look like they are one storm away from falling apart. When the black car finally stops in front of my building, I mumble a quick thanks to the driver and slip inside before I can change my mind. The stairwell hits me with that familiar mix of old takeout grease and damp, moldy carpet. My key jams in the lock like it always does, fighting me for a few seconds before it finally turns. Home sweet home.I kick my heels across the floor, yank off the dress, and stand under the shower until the water goes ice cold. My skin feels raw by the time I step out. I don’t bother drying my hair properly. I just crawl straight into my narrow bed, sheets still damp against my back, and stare up at the ugly water stain on the ceiling that ha

~SAFFRON~The second Jason’s bedroom door clicks shut behind me, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.I make it three steps down the hallway before I stop, one hand pressed flat to the wall, the other over my chest like it might calm the storm he just started in there.The lie sits sour and metallic in my mouth.I close my eyes, remembering last night.His door had been slightly ajar. I pushed it open quietly and stepped inside for the very first time.Jason’s room felt like stepping into another world.It was darker than the rest of the house—deep charcoal walls, heavy black curtains that barely let any moonlight through. Hockey sticks leaned against one corner like silent sentinels. A few trophies sat on a shelf. The room was surprisingly organized for a boy’s space. More organized than mine actually. The air smelled so much like him. His bed was large and unmade, sheets twisted as if he’d been fighting them in his sleep.He lay on his back, still wearing his hockey je

~JASON~I wake up feeling like death has already won.My skull feels split open, like an axe is buried deep between my eyes and left there to throb. Every pulse is punishment. My tongue tastes like old pennies and bad decisions. My stomach lurches so violently I slap a hand over my mouth and lie perfectly still until the room stops trying to throw me off.It doesn’t stop.I crack one eye open. Sunlight stabs through the curtains like a personal grudge.“Fuck.”Even my own voice sounds wrecked.I try to sit up and immediately regret every choice I’ve ever made.Pain explodes through my right hand.I stare down at it. My knuckles are wrapped in clean white gauze—neat, tight, careful.I blink.There’s a glass of water on my nightstand. Two painkillers beside it. A metal bowl on the floor near the bed. A blanket is pulled over me like someone actually gave a damn.I know for a fact I didn’t do any of this.I don’t remember getting home.I remember Tyler telling me Saffron was official wit

~SAFFRON~The first time Elixir kissed me in public, three girls dropped their forks in the student café.I remember it because Erica laughed so hard that iced coffee sprayed out of her nose.“Babe,” she wheezed, wiping her mouth. “You cannot just stand there acting normal when one of the hottest boys on campus is eating your face.”“He wasn't eating my face. And I was not acting normal.”“You looked bored.”“I was trying to breathe.”She cackled louder. “Oh please. If he kissed me like that, I’d need CPR and a priest.”I kicked her under the table.It has been a month since the night on the lawn when Elixir jogged over calling my name and interrupted whatever silent, dangerous thing had been about to happen between Jason and me. A month since I watched Jason’s face soften the moment he saw me… and then watched that softness disappear. Not that I count.Not that I notice every morning how his bedroom door stays closed until after I leave for class. Not that I know exactly which hours

~JASON~~A month later~“Yo Jace. You hear? Your stepsister’s official with The Miller boy now. Heard it from Matthew.”Tyler’s words land like a slapshot to the ribs during practice. The entire rink goes dead. Whistles, skates carving ice, teammate chatter. All of it sucks into silence. My lungs forget how to work. I don’t remember nodding. I don’t remember the half-assed grunt I give him.Next thing I know, my truck roars down campus streets. The engine screams louder than the blood in my ears.I am three whiskeys deep in a dim bar, body sticking to my damp hockey jersey. I lift the fourth glass halfway to my lips and freeze.Something vicious uncoils behind my ribs. Shards of broken glass wrapped in pure, scalding rage. My chest locks tight. Every breath scrapes raw.She’s supposed to be mine.Not his. Never his.The thought of Elixir fucking Miller hands being on her waist, his mouth on those lips, hits me like a blindside check. My vision tunnels red. He will parade her around ca

~SAFFRON~The afternoon sun filters through the leaves of the old oak on the east lawn, throwing patchy shadows over the grass where Erica and I sit. Classes let out almost an hour ago, but I told my mom they were running late so I could wait here without any questions. Erica sprawls next to me, legs stretched out, pretending to scroll through her phone while her eyes keep darting toward the main path. She’s not even trying to hide it anymore. She’s been buzzing since yesterday, dying to witness whatever this thing is between Elixir and me.“If he ghosts you now, I’m officially calling seeing you two together yesterday a hallucination,” she says, nudging my shoulder.I laugh, but my stomach does a nervous little flip. “He’ll show. We texted this morning.”Honestly, part of me hopes he’ll be late. Last night in the theater room is still sitting heavy in my chest. Jason’s rare smile, the way his eyes went dark when I mentioned Elixir, and the way his words cut at the end. I promised mys

~SAFFRON~I don’t go out with Elixir anymore.I couldn’t bring myself to leave the house after seeing Jason’s cut. It felt like a part of me had bled too, and that quiet truth settles heavy in my chest—I care about him more than I’m ready to admit. So I text Elixir instead.'Hey, something came up. Can we reschedule for tomorrow?'He replies almost immediately. 'No problem. Tomorrow works. Let me know what time.'Back in my room, the dream won’t leave me alone. Jason’s mouth claiming mine, hungry and raw. His hips pressing me down. The way I moaned into him like I was starving. I can still feel the ghost of his hands. My mom and Fred are still out, and darkness has pressed against the windows.I stare at the ceiling until the silence screams. I need noise. I need to get out of this room. Anything to drown out the loop in my head. I slip downstairs into the dimly lit home theater, turn on the system, and sink into a plush recliner chair.I pick 'A Walk to Remember.' A warning voice w