Who Owns Peace Nook?

One childhood crush. One unbreakable rule. One mansion where every hallway feels like a trap. For fifteen years, Leighton Hayes has loved Noah Knight from afar, the untouchable older brother of her best friend Chloe. Now twenty-three, broke, and freshly homeless, Leighton has nowhere to go but the sprawling estate of the man who once barely noticed her. Noah remembers her all too well. The billionaire who built an empire from nothing has spent the last six months trying to become a better man, and the shy girl in oversized hoodies who just moved into his guest wing is the most dangerous temptation he’s ever faced. Chloe’s single rule was always clear: her friends are off-limits. Especially to Noah, the reformed Playboy who used to burn through supermodels and headlines. But late nights, shared secrets, and one stolen shirt ignite a fire neither of them can extinguish. What begins as whispered confessions and almost-kisses explodes into a secret affair neither wants to end, even as the lies stack higher. When Chloe discovers the truth, the betrayal threatens to destroy the only family each of them has ever known. Leighton must decide if love is worth losing her best friend. Noah must prove he’s finally ready to risk everything for the one woman he swore he’d never touch. Some rules are made to be broken. Some hearts refuse to stay forbidden.

​The Price of Peace is the final showdown and book three for the No Regrets crew, where the masks come off and the bills finally come due. Shane O’Brien is done playing house. He’s been living his life like a "glorified roommate" with his wife, Isla, ever since she broke their vows with her best friend's husband, but now the cold war is turning hot. While Shane finds a temporary sanctuary with Maya Cruz, Isla is weaponizing their children trying to save a marriage that might already be lost, but will she realize this too late, or burn the whole house down. Speaking of Maya, she has a few secrets of her own, one that involves Mayor Rogers and a scandal that could level the city. ​In the courtroom, Crandon Morgan is fighting to keep his name clean after a very public mental meltdown. He’s looking for a comeback, but he finds a distraction in Tempest Summers, a new law junior associate with a haunted past and a hunger for a kind of justice the law books don’t cover. ​Meanwhile, Kole Michaels is trapped in a different kind of nightmare. A past mistake named Akeisha is using a legal loophole to pin a child named Urmagisty on him. With his relationship with a different Keisha on the line and his daughter Mabel watching, Kole has to prove he’s being set up before the lie becomes his life. ​In this game, peace isn't free, you have to pay for it in blood, truth, or with everything you own.

It was stupid…stupid for him to think that money gives everything which was absolutely true. But, then will it give him love?Girls and Love were something far corner in his world and he had no time for them at all. His ego was something he kept in his heart and brain. But, when a girl entered his life with a slap, he only wanted to prove his egoistic side. He did everything to prove that to her. But, he miserably failed to know that she was precious.On the other hand, when she thought she had lost everything, he entered. But she failed to realize that it was his gameplay and would only lead to heartbreak and it did. After years of the tragedy he created, when she thought she was planning something in her life…he entered again.This time not to prove anything but to show her what her presence was meant to be for him and in what she was successful years ago. He knew he lost her but with a little faith, he was going to strive hard to go behind her and make her his again…only his.Would she be able to forgive him and would he himself be able to forgive him?His Lost Peace is created by Priya Amour, an eGlobal Creative Publishing signed author.

When I'm paying the heating bill, I find out that my wife, Violet Jensen, has two accounts under her name. The first account belongs to our home. The second account goes to a unit in a high-end private residential area. The remark on the account shows two words that say "love nest". Love nest. I don't know who on earth Violet is sharing that nest with, but I know where that address is. After all, that's the apartment I bought at full price before my marriage.

At my daughter's high school graduation party, she greeted me with a bouquet containing her wish list. "My dearest Mom! "My life truly begins at eighteen! "This is the first step toward rebuilding my social image and starting an entirely new life! "Thank you, Mom, for supporting me completely!" The list tucked into the bouquet included the newest phone, tablet, laptop, and earbuds. Together, the smaller items cost more than five thousand dollars. But the final line, printed in bold red letters, stabbed into my eyes like the point of a knife: Helena Abernathy must give Chloe Collins a house free of charge. The property will be for Chloe's exclusive use, and no one else will be permitted inside. I stared at the bouquet, while the soul that had died unjustly in my previous life trembled inside my body. Last time, I carried that bouquet home and tossed and turned all night. In the end, I still tried to discuss it with my daughter. "Chloe, about the house... I truly can't afford it right now." "Could we possibly..." Chloe was silent for three seconds before accusing me through tears. "I knew it! You never loved me. You only love yourself!" My photograph, address, and workplace were posted across social media. Then came the online attacks, the doxxing, the red paint splashed across my door, and the suspension from my job. When I stood on a rooftop, unable to endure the abuse any longer, the people below kept recording and shouting: "Jump! If you aren't guilty, why would you jump?" This time, I looked down at the bouquet in my arms and smiled. I didn't want the list. And I didn't want this daughter anymore.

Someone @'d me on Nextdoor. "Hey, penthouse girl. You're single. What do you need a whole rooftop garden for? My husband's throwing a party. We'll be needing it starting tomorrow." "Don't worry, we'll give you two hundred bucks a month for upkeep. You'll make a couple hundred for doing jack shit. You should be thrilled." I stared at the screen. It was a joke. I was Don Ricci's heir, groomed to run the South Side. But I traded that life for a paintbrush. This apartment was my sanctuary, my quiet place. That rooftop garden wasn't some building perk. It was mine. I'd paid half a million cash for the deed when I bought the place. I turned it into my sunroom studio. And now someone thinks they can have it for two hundred bucks a month? I replied with two words: "Dream on." I didn't expect the building manager and two security guards at my door the next day. Someone had filed a complaint about me "misusing community resources." And now, for the sake of "neighborly harmony," they were demanding my keys. Fine. They wanted to throw civility out the window? They were about to learn what real power felt like.