Novels by aleey

Marissa Beth's POV....The storm outside rattled the windows, but the storm inside this house was far worse.The wind howled like it wanted to strip the roof from over us, but it wasn't the weather keeping me awake. It was the sound of my husband coughing in the other room. That cough... deep, rattling, and broken. It carried a clock inside it, ticking down the last moments of his life. His heart was failing. I knew it. The doctors had whispered it enough times. He didn't have long, and he refused every serious treatment. Stubborn old man. He had built an empire with sheer willpower, and he wanted to die on the same terms. But when he goes, what happens to us? What happens to Yuri? To me?And then there was Layla.The shadow that had haunted my life for twenty years."Mother," Yuri's voice pulled me back. It was hoarse, swollen from crying. She stood in the doorway, eyes puffy and red. "Why did you make her do it? You knew everything. I told you. I begged you to cancel the wedding a

[Layla’s POV]The first thing I felt was pain.A dull ache that spread from my arms to my legs, like I’d been torn apart and stitched back together too quickly. My throat burned, dry and raw, as if every scream I’d swallowed still clung there.I tried to move, but my hand wouldn’t budge.That was when I saw him.Xavier.His head rested against the edge of my bed, my hand cradled in his palm like something too fragile to let go. His hair was a mess, his shirt wrinkled, his tie long gone. The man who always carried himself like steel—sharp suits, polished shoes, the faint scent of cedarwood trailing wherever he went—was nowhere to be found.Instead, there was this man. Exhausted. Worn. Dark circles carved beneath his closed eyes, his features softer in sleep, but heavy with worry even then.My chest tightened. I’d never seen Xavier like this before.Careful not to wake him, I let my eyes wander, and that was when I noticed it.The ring.On my finger. Again.The same ring I had left behi

[Xavier’s POV]The room smelled faintly of antiseptic and stale air. Too clean, too still.And yet, when I stepped inside, the sight before me hollowed me out from the inside.Layla.She lay motionless on the narrow hospital bed, her skin pale against the stark white sheets. An IV dripped slowly into her vein, a fragile thread of life tethering her here. Her lips were cracked, her lashes damp from tears dried too fast. Her arms—God—her arms bore bruises that darkened her skin, angry reminders of someone’s filthy hands.My knees gave out before I could stop them. I dropped beside her bed, my palms clutching her cold hand. The ring I had fumbled with the night before now pressed against her skin again, though she wasn’t awake to feel it.There were no words. No fury loud enough, no vow strong enough to fill the ache in my chest. All I could do was press my forehead against her fingers, breathing her name as though it would keep her here.Layla.The doctor worked quietly on her other sid

#Xavier's POVThe echo of her heels faded down the hallway, and for the first time in years, I felt something I hated—hollow. Empty. Like something vital had been carved out of my chest with a rusty blade.She didn't look back. Not once.‘God, please look back. Just once.’But she didn't. And that single act of indifference shattered something inside me that I didn't even know could break.Layla had placed the ring in my palm as if it weighed nothing, as if 'I' were nothing. The gold band felt impossibly heavy now, like it carried the weight of every moment we'd shared, every glance, every breath we'd stolen together. My fist closed around it, the metal biting into my skin until I bled. The pain was welcome—it was the only thing keeping me tethered to reality."Finally."The voice behind me was trembling, weak, pathetic. Yuri. Her swollen eyes were red from tears, her face pale but daring to smile through the aftermath of her destruction."You're free now, Xavier," she whispered, and

I changed into my fifth outfit of the evening, staring at myself in the mirror with frustration tightening my chest. Dresses, skirts, jeans, blouses—everything either felt too much or not enough. I didn’t know why I cared so much. This wasn’t a date. This was Xavier. My husband. The man who wore his indifference like armor and barely spared me more than a few clipped words.And yet, there was this foreign warmth in my chest. A restlessness that made my palms sweat and my heartbeat race. It didn’t feel like dread. It didn’t feel like hatred. It felt… like home.I hated it.Finally, I settled on a soft cream dress, simple but delicate. My hair fell loose, brushing against my collarbone. My hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting, and I hated myself for waiting—like some lovesick fool—for the sound of his footsteps.And then he came.Xavier Russell walked into my room like he owned the air itself, his expression carved from stone. His white shirt clung to his shoulders, the sleeves rolled up, vein

[Xavier's POV]Her body writhed under my mouth, every sound she made burning me alive. She was so close—too close. I could feel it in the way her thighs trembled, in the way her fingers tugged my hair like I was her lifeline.And then I stopped.Her gasp was sharp, her pout instant. “Why…?” Her voice cracked, half-cry, half-demand.I kissed the inside of her thigh instead, rolling my sleeves down with a curse under my breath. “Because you’re drunk, Laila. And tomorrow, you’ll hate both of us if I don’t stop tonight.”Before she could argue, I scooped her up into my arms bridal-style. Her head fell against my chest, her body already heavy with exhaustion. She mumbled my name, soft, needy, and it carved straight through my chest.“Sleep,” I whispered, carrying her through the halls.The maid hurried to open her door. I gave her a single look. “Change her into something comfortable. Make sure she rests.”The girl nodded quickly, and I laid Laila gently on her bed before leaving. My fists

The night air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of autumn leaves as Savannah and Cassian strolled side by side. The streets were quiet, illuminated by flickering streetlights that cast long shadows on the pavement. It had been an unexpectedly peaceful evening—just the two of them, sharing ice cream, laughing at stupid things, and for a moment, it felt like the chaos of the past few days didn’t exist. Savannah turned to look at Cassian. He was gazing ahead, his jaw clenched as if lost in thought. The dim glow from the lights traced the sharp angles of his face, making him look almost… vulnerable. "Hey," she said softly, nudging his arm. "You good?" He exhaled, stopping in his tracks. She stopped too, facing him. Cassian ran a hand through his hair, looking at her as if debating something. Then, without warning, he took a step closer. "I was a dick earlier," he said. "Back at my place." Savannah blinked. "Uh… yeah. No argument there." A ghost of a smirk flickered on h

Steam curled in soft tendrils around Savannah as she stepped out of the shower, the warmth of the water still clinging to her skin. She wrapped herself in a towel, rubbing another against her damp hair as she padded toward her dresser. But something on her desk caught her eye. A plate of sandwiches and a steaming cup of hot chocolate. Her lips twitched upwards despite herself. She knew who had left it. David. A bitter pang settled in her chest. David. The brother who had once been her best friend, her protector, her partner in crime. Back when things were simple—before their eldest brother’s accident, before grief swallowed their family whole. That night had shattered more than just a car; it had broken them. David had changed. He became distant, cold. And now? Now he was just another reminder of how nothing in her life stayed the same. She shook her head, pushing the memories away. Grabbing her phone, she unlocked it, needing a distraction. But the moment the screen lit u

Cassian leaned against the headboard, watching Savannah with an unreadable expression. The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, like an unspoken truth neither was ready to confront. He let out a slow breath before he finally spoke, his voice softer than she had ever heard before. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry I left you there.” Savannah’s fingers tensed around the hem of the oversized shirt she had borrowed from him to sleep in. She kept her gaze trained on the floor, her emotions warring inside her. “I promise that won’t happen again.” She exhaled, closing her eyes for a moment before shaking her head. “Why do you care so much?” Cassian’s jaw tightened. He swallowed as if debating something, but instead of answering, he whispered, “Don’t ask me anything. Please.” A lump formed in Savannah’s throat. His reluctance made her heart clench. “Cassian, this is all a game to you, right?” His brows furrowed. “What game?” Savannah hesitated, then shook h

A soft warmth surrounded Savannah as she stirred awake, her body sinking into something firm yet comforting. Blinking slowly, her vision adjusted to the dim morning light filtering through the large windows, casting golden streaks across the room. Her heart skipped a beat when she realized where she was—wrapped securely in Cassian’s arms, his strong, steady breaths fanning against her temple. He was holding her like she belonged there, his face relaxed, almost boyish in sleep. The sharp edges of his usual cocky smirk had softened, replaced by an innocence she had never seen before. His lips, slightly parted, formed the faintest pout, making him look… vulnerable. Safe. Savannah felt an unfamiliar warmth bloom in her chest. Without thinking, she lifted a tentative hand and traced the outline of his lips with her fingertips, barely grazing them. They were soft, impossibly so. "How soft they are…" she mused, her own lips tingling at the mere thought. “Like what you see, Rivers?”

Cassian's phone buzzed on the nightstand, the sound cutting through the silence of his dimly lit room. His jaw clenched as he reached for it, his muscles still taut from the events of the night. His eyes scanned the message, and his entire body stiffened. "Saw you tonight walking with that perfect river girl. So you're actually taking this bet seriously, good to know." The words burned into his mind like a brand. His grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles turning white. A sharp exhale escaped his lips, a mix of anger and frustration. Without a second thought, he grabbed his leather jacket and stormed out of the house. The night air was cold, biting against his skin, but he barely noticed. His mind was a whirlwind of emotions—anger at himself, at them, at the situation. The streets blurred together as he made his way to the bar, his strides purposeful and laced with fury. The bar was alive with noise, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. A group of people sat in the corner

The tension in the air was suffocating as Cassian’s voice cut through the hallway like a blade. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he growled, his voice low but filled with an edge that made the hairs on the back of Savannah’s neck stand up. Derek turned, his hand still gripping Savannah’s wrist tightly, his expression dark and wild. “This doesn’t concern you, Black,” he sneered. “She’s my girlfriend. Stay out of it.” Cassian’s eyes flickered to Savannah’s face, pale and tear-streaked, and then down to her wrist, red and raw from Derek’s bruising grip. Something inside him snapped. His jaw clenched, and his hands curled into fists at his sides. “She’s not your anything,” Cassian bit out, his voice cold and dangerous. Before Derek could react, Cassian closed the distance between them, grabbing him by the collar and yanking him away from Savannah. “And if you ever touch her again, you’ll regret it.” “Let go of me, you bastard!” Derek spat, struggling against Cassian’s h