Novels by Joyce writer

~ Robert’s POV~“Mia!” I called out, shaking her vigorously, but she drifted into unconsciousness. I grabbed her belongings and hurriedly drove her to the hospital.After she was placed on admission, the doctor assured me she would be fine. I sat beside her, waiting for her to open her eyes.My phone buzzed. It was Dennis.“Sir, the mess has been cleaned up,” he said.“Make sure you properly dispose of the corpse,” I instructed. “And keep looking for Mr. Johnson. This time, make sure you do a good job,” I added before ending the call.Earlier that day, I left the house to attend to some business. What I never told Mia was that I was going to Compton because I had found her father there. Mr. Johnson was captured by my men, but somehow, he escaped during interrogation.He had been tied to a chair in an abandoned building when I arrived. He hadn’t been beaten, but he had been starved.“Mr. Johnson Ross. Long time no see,” I said, dragging a chair to sit in front of him.“What do you want

~ Mia POV ~“Mia?” He called my name, his eyes filled with fear, his hands trembling as he stepped back from me.As I tried to get closer, he shoved me so hard I hit the ground, then took off running.“Mia?” Jake’s voice cut through the chaos. He rushed toward me, trying to help, but was knocked down by the men chasing after my father.I scrambled to my feet and ran. I had to follow him. What was he doing in Compton? Why was he being chased? I couldn’t leave—not now. I needed answers. My heart beat like a war drum in my chest as I followed their path. I saw my father dart into a narrow street and I quickly changed direction, taking an adjacent alley to try and cut him off. The two masked men chasing him split up as well, but took a different route. For a brief moment, I was alone in the pursuit.I burst out of the alley just in time. There he was but he hadn’t seen me yet.“Wait! Please!” I shouted, breathless and he stopped.He turned, his chest heaving, his face wild with panic.“Wh

~ Mia POV~I glanced at the portraits on the walls — they were so beautiful. They reminded me of Robert's own collection: the style, the quality, and, most of all, the artists' names. Robert had five major artists whose works decorated the entire mansion. Even his office wasn’t exempt. He loved paintings, especially those created by California’s finest.I walked side by side with Jake as we toured the Cole Orphanage. A large hall stood within the gates of the property — it was where the children gathered to pray and hold their regular Christian services. Volunteers, including Catholic reverends and sisters, came weekly to support them. The orphanage housed about seventy children, but what saddened me most was the fact that they received so few donations.As we continued the tour, we reached a section filled with small chairs and a whiteboard. These were elementary classrooms, designed for the younger ones — ages three to ten.“Is there no high school for these children?” I asked Jake,

~ Mia’s POV~Victoria's words haunted me from the moment I left her room. “What does your father really know about your mother?” Her voice kept echoing in my mind. Could he know where she was all along?The thought unsettled me deeply. I tried to focus, but curiosity kept clawing at my resolve. I found myself driving back—back to the house I once called home.I parked across the street, staring at the front yard, the peeling paint, the faint memory of laughter that used to fill this space. But instead of warmth, I felt the sting of old wounds."I don’t ever want to see you again.""You’re a child that should never have been born."The words hit like a whip. I shook my head hard, trying to chase away the memory. But the pain of rejection still clung tightly, stronger than anything else.“I can’t,” I whispered to myself, turning to leave.But… hadn’t I come too far to turn back now? Eighteen years since she left… maybe it was time to find my mom. Maybe the truth was buried somewhere in

~Robert’s POV~“Mia, are you alright?” I asked gently, knowing James had already stormed off. I still couldn’t process it—he had raised his hand at Mia, despite the promise he made to me. That betrayal cut deeper than the lashes on my back.The burning pain on my skin suddenly faded into the background. The real wound was inside—watching Mia tremble in fear because of him.She didn’t answer, just stared at me with tear-glossed eyes. I reached for her face, searching for bruises, some sign of injury, but her pain was deeper— It's emotional.Then she threw herself into my arms, crying.“I’m so sorry… it’s all my fault,” she whispered against my neck, and those words shattered me.I held her tighter as she wept on my shoulder, repeating the same broken apology. I said nothing—just lifted her in bridal style and carried her gently to our apartment. Once inside, I laid her carefully on the bed, like something fragile.“You’ve had a difficult day. Just go to bed, Mia… stop crying,” I murmur

~ Mia POV ~Everything turned cold and dim. I was standing barefoot in the middle of a wide street. The sky above me was dark, yet there was a faint reddish glow at the horizon, as if the sun had bled out rather than set. I could feel the pavement burning beneath my soles, even though the wind was icy."Mom!" I called out. My voice echoed endlessly.There she was. My mother. Dressed in that long brown dress she used to wear, her back turned to me. She stood beside a old bus stop sign, her arms folded, her silhouette trembling with distance.“Mom… please!” I cried again, chasing after her.She turned briefly—just her head. Her eyes met mine, blank and glassy, like she didn’t even recognize me. Then she turned back and started walking. Faster.I ran, my feet aching, my lungs burning. “Don’t leave me again!”But the harder I ran, the farther she drifted away, until she faded like smoke in the wind. I collapsed to my knees in the middle of that ghostly road, sobbing into my palms.The wi