Novels by Kay-D

Daphne's POV The Havenport house had become our home, its cozy rooms filled with the twins’ laughter and the smell of Brittany’s cooking. Six months had passed since our vow renewal, and my pregnancy was showing, a gentle curve under my loose dresses that made the twins giggle when they felt the baby kick.One evening, as we sat in the living room, the twins coloring at the table, Oliver looked at me, his face lit with an idea.“I’ve been thinking,” he said, his voice warm, setting down his coffee. “We need a family trip, somewhere fun, to make new memories. Just us, the twins, Brittany.”I smiled, my heart lifting, the thought of a getaway sparking joy. “Where?” I said, leaning forward, my voice curious.“A beach house,” he said, his eyes bright. “A few hours away, right on the coast. The twins can play in the sand, we can relax. What do you think?”I nodded, my throat tight, my voice soft. “I’d love that,” I said. “They’d go wild for the beach.”Brittany walked in, her hands full of

Daphne's POV Agnes, my adoptive mother, stood in the garden, her face bright, her body strong. She’d been sick for months after her kidney transplant, frail and tired when I’d last seen her, but now she looked healthy, her smile wide, her arms open.“Mum?” I said, my voice breaking, tears streaming as I ran to her, hugging her tight. “You’re here. You’re okay.”She held me, her voice choked, her hands warm on my back. “I’m here, sweetheart,” she said. “Thanks to Oliver. I’m better now.”I pulled back, my eyes wet, looking at Oliver, my voice trembling. “You did this?” I said, my heart full.He nodded, his voice soft. “After she was discharged,” he said, “I sent money for her care, hired people to help. I wanted her here, for you, for today.”I sobbed, hugging him, my voice choked. “Thank you,” I said, my words muffled against his chest. “I can’t believe you did this.”Agnes smiled, her eyes wet, and hugged me again, her voice warm. “I’m so proud of you,” she said. “You’re a good woma

Daphne's POV The new house in Havenport was buzzing with quiet excitement, the air filled with the scent of fresh flowers and the twins’ chatter as we prepared for the vow renewal. Four days from now, Oliver and I would stand together, reaffirming our commitment, a moment to solidify our love after everything we’d faced. We’d invited Mr. and Mrs. Anderson, who were flying in from Scotland, eager to see the twins and be part of this new chapter. I stood in the living room, folding napkins for the small ceremony we’d planned in the garden, my heart full but nervous, the weight of the moment settling in.Oliver walked in, his shirt sleeves rolled up, a stack of chairs in his arms for the backyard setup. “You okay?” he said, setting them down, his voice warm, his eyes meeting mine.I nodded, smiling, my hands stilling on the napkins. “Just thinking,” I said, my voice soft. “This feels big, Oliver. A new start, with everyone here.”He stepped closer, his hand on mine, his voice steady.

Daphne's POV The new house in Havenport smelled of fresh paint and sea air, a cozy two-story place with a garden out back where the twins could play. We’d moved in three days ago, the boxes still stacked in corners, but the living room already felt like ours, with the twins’ drawings taped to the fridge and Brittany’s coffee mug on the counter.Oliver was unloading dishes in the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up, while the twins ran outside, their laughter echoing through the open window. I stood in the upstairs bedroom, unpacking a box labeled “Daphne’s Stuff,” my hands moving slowly, my heart heavy but hopeful. This move was our fresh start, a chance to build something new for Dahlia, Delilah, Oliver, Brittany, and me.I pulled out a pair of worn ballet shoes, the leather soft and scuffed, and my breath caught. They weren’t mine—they were Daisy’s, from years ago when we danced together as kids. I’d packed them without thinking, a piece of her I couldn’t leave behind.My fingers traced

Daphne's POV I set my coffee down, my hands steady but my heart racing, and walked to the kitchen, my voice soft. “Oliver,” I said, leaning against the counter, “I’ve been thinking. Maybe we should move, leave Willowbrook. Start over somewhere else.”He looked up, his eyes meeting mine, his voice calm. “You mean relocate?” he said, setting the papers down. “A new house, a new town?”I nodded, my throat tight, my voice low. “This place,” I said, “it’s too much. Every room, every street, reminds me of everything. The twins need a fresh start, and so do we.”He leaned back, his hands on the counter, his face thoughtful. “I’ve been thinking the same,” he said, his voice steady. “Somewhere quieter, maybe closer to the coast. A place where the twins can grow up, where we can breathe.”I smiled, small but real, relief washing over me. “You’re okay with it?” I said, my voice soft. “Leaving the studio, your work here?”He nodded, his hand reaching for mine. “The studio’s important,” he said,

Daphne's POV I sat on the couch in Willowbrook, a blanket over my legs, my hands wrapped around a mug of tea that had gone cold. I’d been home for two days since Oliver rescued me from that old house, his security team and the police storming in just in time. The fear of that moment, Jade’s accusations that I’d killed Daisy and stolen her life, mixed with the guilt I already carried for my sister’s death and Xavier’s accidental shooting. I’d never felt so shaken, but Oliver’s arms, Brittany’s presence, kept me grounded.I hadn’t gone back to the ballet studio, not yet, the fear of being watched too raw after Jade’s betrayal. Her words—calling me a gold-digger, a thief who took Daisy’s twins, her stage, her husband—cut deep, even though I knew they weren’t true.Oliver walked in, his face tired but warm, and sat beside me, his hand on mine. “You okay?” he said, his voice soft, his eyes searching mine.I nodded, my throat tight, managing a small smile. “Getting there,” I said, my voice

Five years later, the estate is no longer just a retreat. It’s a sanctuary—a living, breathing testament to the resilience of love, family, and legacy. As I stand by the grand oak tree in the heart of Seraphina’s Garden, I can hear the laughter of children echoing through the estate. My daughter is among them, her golden curls bouncing with every step as she runs around with her friends, her infectious giggle carrying on the breeze.Seraphina. The little girl who was born during a storm and who now, in the light of day, flourishes as a beacon of joy and hope. She’s everything I ever dreamed of and more. Every day, she reminds me of the strength I had when I thought I had none. And every day, she teaches me that the future is always worth fighting for.I watch as Alex kneels on the grass, helping her with the butterfly she’s carefully cupping in her hands, showing her how to let it go, how to trust the world outside. His love for her is something more than I ever imagined. A father’s l

Gina's POV There’s something sacred about peace—not just the absence of chaos, but the quiet fullness of a life hard-earned. I used to wonder if I would ever know such a feeling. Now, sitting in the sun-drenched solarium with my daughter giggling in my lap and Alex stretched beside us on the chaise, I know I’ve found it.I’ve found home.And it didn’t come wrapped in the perfect package or with a roadmap. It came in storms and secrets, in compromise and conflict, in tear-streaked nights and breathtaking mornings. It came in the arms of a man I never expected to love. And in the eyes of a child who showed me how to live without fear again.That’s why I decided to write it all down.My story.Our story.At first, it started as therapy. I needed a way to untangle the knots left behind by everything that had happened—the contract marriage, Victor’s threats, the courtroom battles, Evelyn’s truth, and the secrets buried deep within the Saxton legacy. But the more I wrote, the more I realiz

Gina's POV We named her Seraphina.The moment I held her in my arms, I knew there was no other name that could ever fit. She was born from fire and softness, from struggle and grace. And as she blinked up at me with those curious hazel eyes, so much like mine yet startlingly like Alex’s, I felt my heart permanently tether to hers.“Seraphina,” I whispered against her soft cheek, brushing a kiss there. “You’re going to change everything.”****Weeks passed in a blur of midnight feedings, lullabies hummed through tired lips, and soft coos that echoed down the estate’s halls. Alex and I were exhausted, but blissfully so. Our world had narrowed to a singular, perfect focus—her.The estate, once a symbol of looming uncertainty and painful inheritance, had become our sanctuary. But I didn’t want it to be just ours. My grandfather’s name had been dragged through courtrooms and sullied by lies. I wanted something different—a legacy rooted in healing, not conflict.That’s how the idea for the

Gina's POV The nursery smelled like fresh paint and baby powder, soft sunlight streaming through the white lace curtains that fluttered slightly in the breeze. I sat on the rocking chair near the window, my hand resting over my growing belly, which had become more prominent with each passing week. I was just seven months along, and though I felt constantly tired and achy, I also felt an overwhelming sense of love swelling inside me—more than I thought was humanly possible.Alex had just left for a quick meeting with our lawyer to finalize some estate documents. Evelyn was downstairs preparing her herbal tea mix that she claimed would "bring me peace of mind and smooth sleep," and Lana was folding tiny baby clothes in the corner of the room. It was a quiet morning. Too quiet.I shifted in my seat, rubbing my belly as a sharp ache shot up my spine. I winced but brushed it off. Pregnancy was full of strange sensations—this had to be just one of them. But a few minutes later, the ache r

Gina's POV The courtroom was colder than I remembered, its marble walls echoing the low murmurs of conversation, the clicking of heels, the scratching of pens. I wasn’t physically there—I was still confined to my bed—but through the live stream set up on my bedside table, I watched everything unfold.Alex sat at the front beside our lawyer, composed and confident in his tailored navy suit. Beside him, Evelyn, dignified in a modest beige dress, clutched a worn leather folder tightly in her lap. Her hands trembled slightly, but her eyes held the strength of someone ready to face the ghosts of her past.I pulled the blanket tighter around me, my heart pounding. This was it.“Court is now in session,” the bailiff announced.I gripped the edge of my blanket. This wasn’t just about reclaiming the estate anymore. It was about reclaiming the truth—our family’s truth. It was about protecting our baby’s future from a man who had threatened everything we held dear.Victor sat across the room, a

Gina's POV The room was silent except for the steady ticking of the antique grandfather clock that stood tall near the window. I lay in bed, propped up with an array of soft pillows, my hands gently resting on my growing belly. The sun had barely risen, but I hadn’t slept. My mind buzzed with anxiety, thoughts turning in endless circles.Alex had been pacing the hallway since dawn, talking to lawyers and strategists, his voice hushed but urgent. I could feel the weight of our reality pressing down harder with each passing day. The threat Victor posed wasn’t just legal anymore—it was dangerous, personal. And with each letter from Evelyn, each scrap of evidence we uncovered, the stakes only grew.I had never imagined a world where my family’s legacy could turn into a battlefield, or where protecting my unborn child would mean playing dangerous games of deception and strategy.When Alex finally stepped into the bedroom, his face was pale but determined. His suit was pressed, his tie per