Novels by Emel Emerald

The Last Battle – Axel's Final Stand The triplets burst into Audrey's apartment, closing the door. Audrey sat in the middle of the room, holding herself, face white. Jasmine gave her a quick glance. "You okay?" Audrey nodded but winced her hands. Jayla sighed deeply. "You should have mentioned it when he called." Audrey gazed down. "I thought I could handle it." Jade snorted. "Not with Axel. He doesn't listen to no." Jasmine stood by the window, narrowed eyes intently focused as she gazed out. Then she froze. Outside, in front of the window, on the street, a black car. A dark figure in the car. Watching. Waiting. Her heart was pounding. He was here. She spun to her sisters, low voice, resolute. "He's outside." Audrey's eyes widened. "What?" Jayla leaped to the window to look out. Jade cursed under her breath. "That psycho." Jasmine breathed slowly, deeply, attempting to soothe herself. She wasn't scared. She was angry. Axel had done enough already. Sarah was d

The Final Stand – Axel's Last Gamble Audrey was on her couch in her apartment, frowning at her phone, the screen lighting up with an unknown number. Her gut clenched. She knew who it was. The second it started ringing she knew. A shiver ran down her spine, her heart racing. Axel. He was calling her. She swallowed hard, her fists tight. She had blocked him. Had changed her routine. Had tried to close him out of her life. And yet. He'd somehow come back anyway. The ringing stopped. A voicemail message showed up. She was breathing irregularly as she hit play. And then his voice was smooth and even, weighted with something sinfully wicked bouncing off of the walls. "Audrey he said, did you really think I'd let you go that easily?" Her blood went cold. "We both know you still think of me. Of us." Her fists clenched on the phone. No. No, she didn't. She wouldn't. She couldn't. "I gave you your space. I let you pretend. But it's time to come home, sweetheart." Audre

The Fall of a Legacy – Their Father Is Brought to Account Their father slumped in the interrogation room, the stark metal table between him and the detectives. For the first time in his life, he was not in charge. His expensive attorneys weren't going to get him out of this today. His influence, his name, his power—it meant nothing now. The seasoned detective dropped a file onto the desk, reopening it. Pictures. Documents. DNA tests. It all lay before him. "You drew up official papers," the detective said, his own voice tightly controlled. "You drew up fake papers and left your firstborn daughter to live and live comfortably. His father's jaw clenched. The detective continued, "And because of that, Sarah spent her entire life believing she wasn't wanted." A bitter silence. "And now she's dead." For a moment—a fleeting moment—something passed through his father's eyes. Regret? Guilt? Maybe. But too little, too late. The detective leaned in.

The Last Truth – A Mother's Justice The triplets were in their mother's living room, the weight of what they had to say very much on their minds. Their mother sat opposite them, her fists clenched on the armrests of the chair while her face was set in stiff lines. Jasmine took a deep breath. "Mom… we've got something to say." Jayla leaned forward. "Something about Dad." Jade sighed. "And Sarah." Her mother's eyebrows jerked with horror when she said the name Sarah. "What about her?" Jasmine's voice was constricted, but she fought to say something. "She was our sister." Their mother's breath stalled. Her hand gripped the chair as her knuckles turned white. No one uttered a word for a second. Then, in a whisper just above a murmur— "What did you just say?" Jayla swallowed hard. "Sarah… she was Dad's daughter." Jade paused before saying again, "His first daughter." Their mother turned white. "That's not… that's not possible." Jasmine pulled out the pro

The Aftermath – Shadows of the Past The triplets sat in silence, the weight of the news pressing down on them. Sarah was dead. And even after everything she had done. Even after the lies, the betrayals, the destruction It didn’t feel like a victory. Jade let out a slow breath, staring at the floor. “I thought I’d feel… relieved.” Jayla shook her head, her voice quieter than usual. “Me too.” Jasmine's clutch on her cup of coffee spasmed. "She was our sister." Jayla grumbled unwillingly. "Half-sister." Jasmine shut her eyes. "It doesn't matter." For in the end, Sarah had been as lost as they had once been. The difference? She never had her way back. Fraser and Tressa – A New Beginning, or a New Threat? Tressa turned a lock of hair around her finger, watching out the apartment window. "She's really gone," she murmured. Fraser, who stood behind her, let out a deep sigh. "Yeah." Tressa’s chest tightened. Sarah had been many things—an enemy, a rival, a storm in human form.

The Aftermath – A New Future, A Lingering Past Sarah retreated from the front door of Fraser's, her heart pounding in her ears. She'd dreamed to herself for months that she might possibly be able to fix what she'd broken. That she could win him back. But now? Now, she knew more. She'd been too late. Fraser's moved on. And not with someone. With Tressa. A woman as clever, as cunning, as smart as Sarah used to be. Sarah's fists clenched. She'd lost before. But this? This was not the same. This had been done. And she was not so sure that she could do that. And meanwhile – Fraser and Tressa's New Beginning Tressa shut the door, breathing softly as she smiled at Fraser. "A knight?" she said, regarding him. Fraser rubbed at his hair, jaw locked. "That was. unexpected." Tressa smiled, leaning on the wall. "Seriously? You didn't think she'd come crawling back sooner or later, or something?" Fraser breathed slowly. "Part of me did, yes. But that moment I just saw her?"

--- Blackwood Mansion – Two Days after the Necklace Incident Storms had brewed all morning. Not the thundershowers. The hot ones—the thick, gray-clouded suffocation that drained color and air and made the entire mansion feel older than it was. Leya wandered like a ghost in its halls. Not because she had a secret to hide. But because nobody wished to look at her. Even silence, eventually, is exile. Ironed sheets. Emptied breakfast trays. She did the sidestep along the lower wing when she took the additional step, simply so she wouldn't have to encounter Harrison in the upper wing. Not that she was afraid of him. But because there was still this idiot, pain spot in her that… hoped. Hoped he'd listen to her. Or ask what actually happened. Or remember, for a moment, she hadn't come into this world to bring him down. She hadn't signed up to join the family. Or the house. Or the battle. But she had persisted. Every. Single. Day. And now, not being wasn't enough. --- Outside H

--- Blackwood Mansion – Two Days after the Necklace Incident Storms had brewed all morning. Not the thundershowers. The hot ones—the thick, gray-clouded suffocation that drained color and air and made the entire mansion feel older than it was. Leya wandered like a ghost in its halls. Not because she had a secret to hide. But because nobody wished to look at her. Even silence, eventually, is exile. Ironed sheets. Emptied breakfast trays. She did the sidestep along the lower wing when she took the additional step, simply so she wouldn't have to encounter Harrison in the upper wing. Not that she was afraid of him. But because there was still this idiot, pain spot in her that… hoped. Hoped he'd listen to her. Or ask what actually happened. Or remember, for a moment, she hadn't come into this world to bring him down. She hadn't signed up to join the family. Or the house. Or the battle. But she had persisted. Every. Single. Day. And now, not being wasn't enough. --- Outside H

The campus breathed the bite of early fall. Leya leaned in the bursar's office, her fingers clenched around the miserable envelope of torn bills she'd fought to gather together in months of vicious night shifts. Her heart pounded, pride and humiliation tangled in her chest. Every tip, every penny, every extra hour she'd worked—the exhaustion that seeped around her bones—had brought her to this counter. "For Dalton Anderson," she said curtly but courteously, pushing the envelope forward. The woman across the glass from her scowled behind bifocals, fingers flying across her keyboard, fingernails clattering with each letter she typed. Time passed. A scowl furrowed the woman's brow. Leya's stomach dropped. Had she waited too long? Had they already expelled him? The woman kept on typing. Scratching. Then straightened to her feet. "Oh," she said, lighter now. "The account's paid. Paid in full two days ago." Leya's eyes scanned. "What?" “Yes, Miss Anderson. Tuition, h

The campus breathed the bite of early fall. Leya leaned in the bursar's office, her fingers clenched around the miserable envelope of torn bills she'd fought to gather together in months of vicious night shifts. Her heart pounded, pride and humiliation tangled in her chest. Every tip, every penny, every extra hour she'd worked—the exhaustion that seeped around her bones—had brought her to this counter. "For Dalton Anderson," she said curtly but courteously, pushing the envelope forward. The woman across the glass from her scowled behind bifocals, fingers flying across her keyboard, fingernails clattering with each letter she typed. Time passed. A scowl furrowed the woman's brow. Leya's stomach dropped. Had she waited too long? Had they already expelled him? The woman kept on typing. Scratching. Then straightened to her feet. "Oh," she said, lighter now. "The account's paid. Paid in full two days ago." Leya's eyes scanned. "What?" “Yes, Miss Anderson. Tuition, housing, fees

--- Blackwood Mansion – Two Days after the Necklace Incident Storms had brewed all morning. Not the thundershowers. The hot ones—the thick, gray-clouded suffocation that drained color and air and made the entire mansion feel older than it was. Leya wandered like a ghost in its halls. Not because she had a secret to hide. But because nobody wished to look at her. Even silence, eventually, is exile. Ironed sheets. Emptied breakfast trays. She did the sidestep along the lower wing when she took the additional step, simply so she wouldn't have to encounter Harrison in the upper wing. Not that she was afraid of him. But because there was still this idiot, pain spot in her that… hoped. Hoped he'd listen to her. Or ask what actually happened. Or remember, for a moment, she hadn't come into this world to bring him down. She hadn't signed up to join the family. Or the house. Or the battle. But she had persisted. Every. Single. Day. And now, not being wasn't enough. --- Outside Ha

--- Blackwood Mansion – Morning After Silence had never been deaf before. The halls did not whisper—they were silent. Every well-coiffed step, every door opening, every muffled voice behind closed lips stayed still the moment Leya passed by. She could sense it at the back of her neck. In the tense quiet seeping into rooms, the moment she crossed the threshold. In the tilted heads, not heads of respect, but of shame. Or fear. They didn't know if she was a thief. But they did know that she was deemed likely to be one. And in this household, truth-tellers were rewarded less than suspects. Rattling hands pouring the tea. Spilling not a drop. But throbbed from yesterday's penalty—damp, dry, red from scrubbing for hours. And yet, still, she glided unobstructed. Quiet. Steadfast. Because there was only that way. But even now, under bruised pride and worn silence, something was encircling her. Not anger. Not yet. But a vow. > "They will not have the last word." --- Servants' W