Novels by Chithority

Sabatine’s POV.I woke up in a hospital bed, the sterile scent of disinfectant clinging to the air like an unwelcome guest. It stung my nose, sharp and unfamiliar. My eyelids felt like sandpaper, heavy and sluggish as I tried to lift them. A dull ache pulsed at the back of my skull, and my entire body felt foreign, like I’d borrowed someone else’s skin for the day.Where was I?More importantly, why was I here?My thoughts were muddy, like trying to read words through fogged glass. No clear memories came to mind, only fragments. A car. Screeching tires. A sharp jolt. Darkness.Before I could grasp anything solid, the door creaked open.A nurse entered, her scrubs a pale blue blur as she approached my bedside. “Hi, Mr. Sabatine, can you hear me?” Her voice was calm but cautious, as if afraid I might shatter if she spoke too loudly.I tried to respond, but even blinking felt like a monumental task. My eyes fluttered weakly, barely managing to focus on her.Then I felt it. Something insi

– Sabatine’s POVIt’s been two days since I returned from Chicago.Two long, strangely fulfilling days.For the first time since Evelyn walked out of my life, the fog that clouded my mind was beginning to lift, because finally, I had something. A thread. A trail. Concrete updates about her whereabouts.Every morning, like clockwork, my phone buzzed with details, what she did, where she went, who she spoke to. I knew the streets she walked on. The café she now preferred. Even the time she took her children to school.Her children.I couldn’t stop myself from reading those updates over and over, imprinting them into my brain. It was ridiculous, maybe even borderline obsessive, but I wanted more. I craved it. If I could plant surveillance cameras around her entire neighborhood without getting arrested, I probably would have done it already.Because just the thought of catching a glimpse of her, watching her move through her day, brushing her daughter’s hair or holding her son’s hand, it

Evelyn povThe moment my eyes caught that silhouette across the children’s section, broad shoulders cloaked in a navy coat, a sharp, lean frame, head tilted slightly as though reading a label, something inside me stopped.A violent stutter pulsed through my chest.My breath hitched.My heart thrashed once, then again, wild and disoriented, like it didn’t know which direction Not now.I crouched low in an instant, pretending to fix Amnestatia’s shoelace. My fingers fumbled against the laces, useless, trembling. I wasn’t even sure I touched them correctly, but I needed the cover. I needed to hide my face, even if only for seconds.“Baby,” I whispered, my voice shaky and rushed, “let’s get going. Where’s Roland?”As if summoned by his name, Roland’s voice rang out from behind a display of plush dinosaurs. “Mom, I want to pee!”He darted off before I could stop him.My head snapped up, instinctively, searching, trackingAnd then I saw him.Sebastian.The air thickened. My ears roared.He

(Sabatine’s POV)Chicago.The city pulsed with energy, cars honking, people moving in fast, purposeful strides, sirens crying in the distance, but inside me, there was nothing but hollow quiet.I had flown in earlier that morning, eyes bleary and body running on nerves and too much coffee. This trip wasn’t a choice, it was survival. My company was flailing, bleeding at the seams, and this meeting… it might be my last shot at saving it.Everything rode on one man. Stanley Woods.He was a giant in the business world, with a reputation built on fear, brilliance, and ruthless precision. If I could win him over, secure even a fraction of his influence, I might just pull us back from the edge.My assistant had set it all up, weeks of back and forth, confirmations, reminders. I’d rehearsed my pitch until I could deliver it in my sleep. I’d revised the slides, tweaked the figures, and polished the projections. Every word, every visual, tailored to him.And now, I was here. Standing in the sle

(Evelyn's POV)The sky stretched above us in a soft, pale hue, like a sheet of watercolored silk draped over the world. The car moved steadily, gliding past familiar clusters of trees and unfamiliar streets that blurred into the edges of memory. I sat quietly in the back seat, hands clasped loosely in my lap, a hush of anticipation fluttering between my ribs and echoing with every slow beat of my heart. It wasn’t dread. Not entirely. It was something deeper, restless and uncertain.Liam drove, his hands steady on the wheel, his eyes flickering to the rearview mirror every few minutes. Watchful, like always. He didn’t say much, but his presence filled the space, protective, grounding. He’d offered to drive without needing to ask why. He just knew.We were headed to Chicago. Not for a vacation or a business trip. This was for Mia, her remembrance, her absence wrapped in ceremony and silence.It didn’t feel real.Even after all this time, it still felt like a chapter I had read too man

(Vanessa’s POV)I stood at the edge of the rooftop garden, the breeze tugging softly at my hair as I held the phone to my ear. Below, the city hummed with life, cars weaving through streets, voices rising from open windows, but I barely noticed. The sun was beginning its descent, spilling golden light across the skyline like molten glass. Everything shimmered with beauty, but none of it reached me."Yes… thank you for sticking to the deal," I said, my voice calm and even. "They’ll be released this evening. You kept your end of the bargain, and so will I."A brief silence lingered on the other end, heavy and deliberate, before the line clicked off. Just like that.I lowered my hand, slipped the phone into my coat pocket, and stood still, letting the quiet wash over me. My gaze remained fixed on the horizon, but I wasn’t seeing any of it. The release wasn’t an act of mercy. It wasn’t forgiveness. It was simply the end of a transaction. Closure, not compassion. I didn’t need leverage ove