Bound For Home Book Novels & Stories

I wanted to live too. --- The safehouse was nothing like his fortress. A bungalow crouched at the edge of nowhere, hidden among wild trees and houses that pressed close like watchful sentries. Alessandro’s hand never left my waist as he guided me inside. The walls were plain, the furniture sparse—nothing of the opulence I had seen in his world of marble and gold. But the locks were heavy, the windows barred. It was not a home. It was a cage dressed as safety.

I read out for him from the trip advisor page I googled. "Sì signora." He says as he drives. My head is spinning, I have so many thoughts going through my head and Mason is calling my phone constantly. We arrive at the hotel and I pay the driver before getting out. I head for the reception and ask for a room. And once again my luck, they are completely booked out except for the presidential suite which I quickly take and head upstairs immediately. Mason calls again and again, I finally answer tired of him blowing off my phone.

I answered her but I received a sigh from her and I saw her shake her head. "Your immune system is being more weaker. Your disorder is growing into you more. You're not making any improvements, I am sorry to tell you this but your case is hopeless. All you could do is follow your routine and stay home. That's the least you could do if you want to live more." She answered me that made me let out a deep sigh.

As Queen Isabella held me, her touch was a mixture of comfort and the understanding that we were facing a formidable foe. The moonlight illuminated her delicate features, casting a soft glow around her. I approached her, my heart heavy with the responsibility I carried. "Mother," I said softly, my voice betraying the exhaustion I felt. She turned to me, her eyes filled with a mixture of worry and relief. "Maximus," she spoke my name with a mixture of affection and concern. "You're home. Thank the stars for your safe return." I closed the distance between us, and she opened her arms, drawing me into an embrace. As I leaned into her, I felt the warmth of her presence, a stark contrast to the c

Julia The traffic picks up as we get further downtown, but it's still not long before Riley announces that we are home. Home, not his home, just home, and I am not sure what to make of it. This is his home, not ours... wait, this is the Royal Towers Hotel. It's one of the biggest buildings downtown and one of the most expensive. Only the richest of the rich stay here because of the stinkingly high price tag. What are we doing here? This can't be where he lives, surely.

Chapter One The Woman Who Breaks Men Two hundred years, and not a single one had tasted different. Ronan Lucien Thorne stood at the edge of his territory, arms crossed over his chest, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers — unlit. He didn’t smoke. He just liked the burn between his teeth. The illusion of control. Of choice. The trees were still. The night wind cold. The world kept turning, and still he was here. Unchanged. Unmoved.

Home sweet home. It's just so sad that I only get to spend a week and a few days at home. Phew. Done! Thanks for checking out my book, Please vote/comment if it makes even a little bit of sense. I'd really love to hear your Thoughts and suggestions on this. Xo xo.

Bianca frowned at him. “Shampoo, soap, things like that. Clothes can be ordered online. Hunter left some things at the house and you’re roughly the same size,” Austin said and stroked his beard. “We’ll put her in Hunter’s quarters for now,” Dominic said and nodded his head at Austin. “I’m not part of your family and you can’t tell me what to do,” Bianca said as she stood up from the couch.

I moved silently like a shadow, knowing exactly where to go. My father had once spoken of a section few people ever visited. Books on the supernatural, the forbidden, and the long-abandoned bloodlines. I ran a finger across the shelves until it stopped at a cabinet tucked behind an iron pillar, half-hidden by a torn curtain. The lock was old, rusted. I sucked in a breath, drawing the blade from my boot and pried it open with a soft click. Inside, wrapped in brittle cloth and bound with a vine that had long since dried and curled into itself, sat a journal.

" It got more weight in her head because she didn't want it to. "You're an investment in perception, " he corrected, "and perception is reality in business. The limo carried Aria through the gate and the estate really opened up for her, for the first time in a good while, to see what home she would have for the next three years. There was the Blackwood mansion set high on a cultivated lawn, a modern take on a classical house, glass and stone being arranged with elegance, and harmony. "It's... enormous," she breathed. “The west wing will be yours, ” Alexander confirmed abruptly. “You will have your suite, sitting room and study. We have informed the staff of our arrangement and they are very