Novels by vivianneewrites

Olivia's POV My heart pounded, my breath shallow, my eyes fixed on Amelia, crumpled on the floor, her hands curled around her belly, her sharp cry echoing in the sterile corridor. Lucas was on his knees beside her, his face pale with guilt and panic, his trembling hands reaching to lift her despite his own weakness, the IV line swaying precariously. My chest ached, torn between the love that had surged during our brief, stolen moment—his arms around me, his lips on my forehead—and the crushing guilt of witnessing this fallout, the chaos my presence seemed to ignite. My throat tightened, tears stinging my eyes as I stepped forward, instinct driving me to help Lucas, to steady him as he struggled.“Lucas,” I said, my voice trembling, my hands gripping his arm, supporting his weight as he tried again to lift Amelia, his breath ragged, his eyes wild with fear. But Victoria’s hand shot out, shoving me back with a force that made me stumble, her glare venomous. “Stay away!” she spat,

Lucas's POV “She’s a married woman, she doesn’t belong to you”His statement hung in the air, a cold reminder of the boundaries I’d crossed. My chest tightened, a mix of embarrassment and defiance flooding me as I realized the scene we’d made, my arms around Olivia, my lips on her forehead, all under the hospital’s fluorescent glare. Faces turned our way—nurses, visitors, their eyes curious, judgmental—and I felt heat rise to my cheeks, a flicker of shame for letting my emotions override caution. My body ached, the IV line tugging at my hand, the pain in my spine and shoulder a constant throb, but it was nothing compared to the ache in my heart, the desperate need to hold onto Olivia, to keep her close after nearly losing her.I pulled back, my hands dropping from her face, my voice low, apologetic. “I’m sorry,” I said, my eyes flicking to Austin, then back to Olivia, my throat tight with regret. “I didn’t mean to… I just—I thought you were gone, and I couldn’t—” My words falter

Lucas's POVThe hospital room felt like a cage, its sterile walls closing in, the incessant beep of the heart monitor a mocking reminder of my fragility. My body ached—my spine and shoulder throbbed with every breath, my head pounded with the lingering fog of the concussion—but the real pain was in my chest, a raw, searing ache that came from Amelia’s words: “Olivia’s dead. She died in the explosion.” The memory of her venomous lie, the way it had shattered me before I lost consciousness, haunted me, a wound that refused to heal. I lay propped against the pillows, my hands clenched, my heart a battlefield of grief, doubt, and a stubborn flicker of hope that Olivia was still out there, alive, despite Amelia’s cruelty. The room was a prison, and the two people in it—Amelia and my mother—were the most unbearable company I could imagine, their presence a suffocating weight that made me dread every moment.Amelia sat in a chair by the window, her arms crossed, her face a mask of sullen

Olivia's POV The hospital lobby was a crucible of judgment, every pair of eyes boring into me like a spotlight, their stares heavy with suspicion and curiosity. Victoria stood before me, her face twisted with grief and rage, her voice still ringing in my ears—“Murderer!”—a word that branded me, searing into my heart. My chest heaved, my breath shallow, my legs trembling as I stood frozen. My throat tightened, tears stinging my eyes as guilt and fear churned within me, a relentless storm that whispered I was to blame, that my presence was a curse, dragging death and destruction to everyone I loved. The whispers of onlookers—nurses, visitors, staff—grew louder, a chorus of judgment that made my skin crawl, my heart pounding with a panic I couldn’t quell.Austin’s hand was on my arm, his presence a steady anchor, but before he could speak, a commotion broke through the crowd. Two police officers pushed their way toward us, their faces stern, their steps purposeful, led by an older

Olivia's PovThe morning sun casted soft shadows across the hardwood floor, but its warmth did little to ease the chill that had settled deep in my bones. I’d chosen to stay home today, my heart and body too heavy to face the world beyond these walls. The past days had been a relentless storm—Lucas’s injuries, the explosion that obliterated my car, Richard’s chilling admission that it was meant for me, and Amelia’s venomous accusations at the hospital. My chest was a tight knot of worry, fear, and guilt, each emotion a weight that anchored me to the sofa, my knees drawn to my chest, a blanket draped over my shoulders like a fragile shield. The news, always ravenous for scandal, seemed to stalk me, my name or my company’s splashed across headlines month after month, a cycle of exposure that left me feeling raw, vulnerable, a target in a game I couldn’t decipher. My throat tightened, my breath shallow as I stared blankly at the wall, my thoughts a tangled mess of dread and despair.

Lucas's povThe world was a haze of white light and muffled sounds when I first opened my eyes, my lids heavy, each blink a struggle against the fog that clouded my mind. Pain throbbed in my skull, a dull, relentless pulse that radiated through my body, my spine and shoulder aching with a sharpness that made my breath catch. The sterile scent of antiseptic stung my nose, the beep of machines a distant rhythm that grounded me, even as my thoughts swirled, disjointed and fleeting. Where was I? A hospital, I realized, the realization slow, like wading through molasses. My chest tightened, a flicker of fear sparking as fragments of memory surfaced—the explosion, the heat, the force that had thrown me against the stairs, Olivia’s car in flames. My heart lurched, a single name cutting through the haze, sharp and urgent: Olivia.“Olivia,” I whispered, my voice hoarse, barely audible, scratching against my dry throat. My eyes darted around the room, searching for her, for her familiar