Novels by eht ylFnnogard

OctaviaThe water rippled as he emerged from the pool, and my breath caught in my throat.Alfredo pushed his wet hair back from his face, water streaming down his broad shoulders, carving paths over the ridges of his chest and stomach. His body was a map of power, every muscle defined but not ostentatious, the kind of strength earned through action rather than vanity. The afternoon sun caught the droplets on his skin, making him look almost golden.God help me.I was supposed to be gathering intel. The study was two floors up, his private safe combination hidden in a book I had spotted days ago. Carlos was probably losing his mind wondering where I was or thinking I was dead. The agency needed evidence that would bring this entire empire crashing down.Instead, I stood frozen at the poolside window like a lovestruck teenager, watching the man I was supposed to destroy dry himself with a towel. He caught me staring.A slow smile spread across his face, that devastating smile that made

AlfredoThe bunker had served its purpose, but I could not hide her forever. Three days. Three days of watching Maria sleep, of taking care of her and telling myself that the world outside could burn for all I cared. Three days of peace I had never known.But I was Alfredo De El. And a king who abandons his throne does not remain king for long. The morning we emerged, I had already sent word ahead. Every captain, every lieutenant, every made man who mattered was to assemble in the main hall of the mansion by noon. No excuses. No delays. Failure to appear would be treated as insubordination.I dressed carefully that morning in a charcoal suit, perfectly tailored, my hair slicked back, my jaw clean-shaven. The man in the mirror looked every inch the mafia boss. Cold. Commanding. Unshakeable.Inside, I was anything but.Maria stood at the window of the safe house, watching the sun rise over the estate. Her bruises had faded to sickly yellows and greens, but she still moved carefully, pro

AlfredoShe said yes.I replayed the words in my head as I lay beside her in the narrow bunker bed, her hand still wrapped in mine, her breathing finally slow and even with sleep. I'll stay. I'll be yours. Three days ago, I had been drowning in a sea of loneliness and obligation, convinced that my life would consist of nothing but shipments and meetings and the cold emptiness of my mansion at night. Three days ago, I had never tasted real hope.Now, watching the soft rise and fall of Maria's chest beneath the thin blanket, I felt something I had forgotten existed. Peace. I didn’t care if she was a spy or not. Whether she worked with the feds or FBI. She could be the death of me, for I cared.Her face was still bruised, still marked by what Scarfaced had done to her. The sight of those injuries made my blood boil even now. When I found her collapsed against that tree, bloody and broken, something inside me had shattered. I had carried her through the forest with a single thought pou

OctaviaHis lips were still on mine, soft and demanding all at once, when my brain finally caught up with my body.This is wrong.Watching him confess his feelings for me wasn’t something I signed up for. How was this going to look for me, a top world class spy?I pulled back, my hands pressing against his chest. The fabric of his shirt was warm beneath my palms, and I could feel his heartbeat racing beneath my fingertips. Fast and desperate. Real."Alfredo, stop."He didn't move away. His forehead stayed pressed against mine, his breath mixing with my own. Those deep brown eyes searched my face with an intensity that made my stomach flip."I can't stop," he whispered. "I've tried. God knows I've tried. You're in my head, Maria. Every moment of every day. When I'm giving orders, I hear your voice. When I'm in meetings, I see your face. When I close my eyes at night..." He swallowed hard. "You're there."My heart hammered against my broken ribs. Maria. He still called me Maria. He still

AlfredoShe slept for nearly fourteen hours.I barely left her side, watching the rise and fall of her chest, counting each breath like it was a gift. The bandages she had on were already soaked. I had made sure that the doctors didn’t leave her side throughout the entire night. I wanted to be safe by all means.Now, as the first light of dawn filtered through the bunker's small reinforced window, she finally stirred. Her icy grey eyes fluttered open, finding mine immediately. Even swollen and bruised, even with the split lip and the dark circles carved beneath her eyes, she was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen."Alfredo," she whispered, my name sounding strange on her lips. Not *sir*. Not *master*. Just my name.I moved from the chair to the edge of the bed, the old mattress dipping under my weight. "You're alive.""Barely."We sat in silence for a long moment. Somewhere above us, the world was burning. My empire looked like it was crumbling. And none of it mattered because s

OctaviaPain had become my entire world.Scarfaced’s knife traced another slow line across my skin, shallow but deliberate, designed to hurt without killing me too quickly. I bit down hard on my lip to keep from screaming, tasting fresh blood. My body was a map of bruises and cuts. Every breath sent fire through my broken ribs. I had lost track of how long I had been in this basement, chained to the metal chair like an animal.“You are tougher than I expected,” Scarfaced said, wiping the blade on a cloth. “But everyone breaks eventually. Tell me who you really work for, and I might end this quickly.”I lifted my head with the last bit of defiance I had left. “Go to hell.”He smiled, that jagged scar twisting grotesquely. He reached for the blowtorch again.Suddenly, loud alarms blared through the underground facility. Red emergency lights flashed. Scarfaced’s head snapped toward the door as frantic footsteps pounded outside.“What the fuck is happening?” he barked into his radio.“Bos

Silver Three days.Three days of hiding in my dorm like a wounded animal. Three days of Emily bringing me soup and pretending not to notice that I hadn't changed out of my sweatpants. Three days of staring at my phone, at Henry's name, at the message I couldn't bring myself to send. Thank you for saving my life. I'm sorry I've been avoiding you. I don't know how to look at you without remembering the way you broke down that door. Nothing felt right. Every draft got deleted. Every word felt too small or too big or just wrong. How do you thank someone for risking everything? How do you look them in the eye after they've seen you at your weakest?I didn't have the answers.So I stayed in my room. I watched N*****x but today I ran out of excuses. The psychology project was due in two days. Professor Rogers had sent three emails. My grade was dangling by a thread, and if I failed this class, I failed the semester. This would threaten my scholarship.The event had alr

SilverThe hospital lights were too bright either that or I was still just recovering. Everything was too bright. Too white or too clean. The kind of sterile that made your skin crawl and your eyes ache. The blanket around my shoulders was thin and scratchy and smelled like bleach and sadness. My wrists were wrapped in bandages where the rope had burned through my skin. The bruises on my arms were already turning purple. Emily sat beside me on the narrow hospital bed, holding my hand like she was afraid I would disappear if she let go. Her mascara had run down her cheeks hours ago, leaving dark streaks that made her look like a sad raccoon in pink glitter. Her hair was a mess. Her eyes were puffy.She hadn't left. Not once."You should sleep," I said for the third time."I'm not sleeping.""Emily—""I'm not leaving you alone." Her voice cracked. "Not tonight. Not ever. So stop asking."I didn't have the energy to argue. My body felt heavy and hollow. Like someone had scooped out ever

Henry My phone rang at 11:47 PM.I almost didn't answer it. I had been sitting in the dark for hours, staring at the ceiling, thinking about Silver. About the way she had looked at me during the project session. About the wall she had built between us. About whether I had imagined the whole thing, the almost-kiss, the tension, the way her breath had hitched when I held her. Why was I thinking about her so much?A strange number flashed on my screen. Weird. I checked and it was Emily Sanders who never called me. Emily hated me. I answered anyway."Henry." Emily's voice was shaking and cracking. Like she had been crying or screaming or both. "Henry, you need to come. Now."I sat up straight. "What's wrong?""It's Silver. She—" A sob. "She left the bar with some guy. I told her to go, I told her to have fun, I didn't think—" Another sob. "She sent me her location and then the call dropped and she's not answering and I'm scared, Henry. I'm really scared."My blood turned to ice."Wher

Silver What was I thinking? Leaving Emily at the bar should have been my first mistake but I didn’t think it through, I just needed to show myself that Henry had nothing on me and going to a stranger's house was the best way to do it or so thought.“I should have stayed.”I whispered to myself, slight regret but it was too late.“What did you say?”The stranger from the bar asked me before handing me a drink. It was quite obvious I was a nervous wreck, I mean I had never done this before.But he smiled at me.His apartment was close by. It was a ten-minute walk through streets I didn't recognize, past buildings I had never noticed. He talked the entire time about his band and his ex-girlfriend and his plans to move to New York someday. His voice was easy, it made me want to trust him.We sat on the couch. He put on music. Something slow and acoustic. Something I didn't recognize but pretended to like. "You're quiet," he said, stretching his arm along the back of the couch."I'm j

Silver I needed a distraction. The safe boring kind. The kind that didn't make me feel like I was losing my mind. So I threw myself into research. It wasn’t the project. Something else. Something that had nothing to do with Henry Williams.I had been lying face-down on my bed for approximately three hours. Not crying or sleeping. Just... existing. Like a potato. A sad, emotionally confused potato with a crush on a British sociopath she absolutely did not have a crush on."You've been in here all day," Emily said from the doorway as she made her entrance into the room."Maybe I like it here.""It smells like sadness and old pizza.""That's my emotional support pizza."Emily walked in with a box of pizza in her hands and flopped down beside me. Her pink glittery phone case caught the light and sent sparkles across the ceiling. Everything about her was sparkly. Even her energy. Especially her energy and honestly at this moment i loved her energy."You're thinking about him," she said.

Henry I couldn't stop thinking about her. It was pathetic. Absolutely bloody pathetic. I had spent the entire morning trying to focus on anything else: the stock market, my emails, the stack of assignments I was ignoring but nothing worked.Her face kept popping into my head. The way she had turned away at the last second. The panic in her hazel eyes. The way her breath had hitched when my lips brushed her cheek.She had been terrified. Not me. Of the kiss itself. And that realization had been clicking around in my brain like a marble in an empty room. Have you ever been kissed, Silver? She didn’t answer. Or denied it. She hadn't even tried to lie convincingly.Which meant...I grinned to myself."Javier," I called out.He was sitting on the other end of the couch, pretending to study. His textbook was open, but his eyes had been glazed over for the past twenty minutes."Yeah?" he said without looking up."I think little Miss Perfect has never been touched."Javier's hand froze o