Calla Hayes Novels & Stories

“Then fight for it, but carefully. You’re Rhys Connell. You built an empire from nothing after losing everything once. Figure out how to do this without losing the two women who matter most to you now.” I gave a short nod, the weight in my chest easing just slightly with the confession. Talking it through with Hayes made it feel less like a grenade waiting to explode and more like a problem with moving pieces I could strategize around. My phone buzzed in the drawer. I pulled it out, hoping for Alicia’s name. But it wasn’t, it was a routine message from a service provider. Hayes stood, straightening his jacket. “I’ll keep an eye on the company. You handle your… personal acquisition.” He smirk

My hands were shaking slightly as I pulled out the card and read the message written in elegant script: "To new beginnings and second chances. I hope you're recovering well from our encounter at the hotel. If you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to reach out. - Vincent Hayes" I stared at the card, reading it twice to make sure I understood correctly. Vincent Hayes had sent me flowers. "Well?" Grace asked, curiosity evident in her voice. "Who sent them?" I handed her the card, watching as she read it. Her eyebrows rose higher with each word. "Vincent Hayes," she said slowly. "The Vincent Hayes? From Hayes Acquisitions?" "You know him?" I asked. "Know of him," Grace corrected. "His

Typed: Elara Hayes designer biography Her Wikipedia entry popped up. Elara Hayes (b. 1998) is a British American fashion designer and founder of Hayes Atelier, known for emotionally evocative collections. She studied fashion in Paris, graduating at the top of her class. Her Revival Collection earned her global recognition and the Designer of the Year award in 2025. His eyes skimmed it again. And again. No mention of where she’d done undergrad. No photographs before fashion school. He frowned. Opened another tab. University of Crestmont – Class of 2020 – Yearbook

He was holding a glass of whiskey, and his expression was unreadable. "Father," Cassian said. "This is Clara Hayes." Clara stepped forward and extended her hand. "Mr. Kingsley. It's an honor to meet you." Alexander Sr. shook her hand. His grip was firm but not crushing. "Ms. Hayes. Welcome to our home." "Thank you for having me. These are for you." She held out the bouquet of flowers she had brought—white peonies and pale pink roses, arranged by the florist she had visited that afternoon.

To avoid Silas interfering, I moved out of the apartment early and stayed in a hotel a few blocks from City Hall. I did not expect the first call would be from Iris Nightingale. I had heard her voice in Silas’ phone before, soft and gentle, like moonlight grass swaying in the wind. This time it was different. “Calla Hayes,” she said, her voice cold. “You gave way five times. Don’t you see who he really loves?”

Seeing the shock on their faces was satisfying as hell. "Since you ladies have seen the pictures, let me deliver the message that came with them." I faced Alesia. "When all you have to offer a man is your body, it says a lot about the state of your brain. Mr. Hayes asked me to let you know he's not interested in you or whatever you're offering. He already has a woman in his life, and he's more than happy with her." Alesia's face turned red, but I wasn't finished.

There was a knock at the door, and before I could respond, my assistant stepped in, holding a small tablet in one hand and a card in the other. “They sent this over just now,” she said, placing the card on the desk. I didn’t need to ask who “they” were. I already knew. “The Hayes Group sent a flower arrangement,” she continued. “They said they’re looking forward to your decision and hoping for good news.” I looked at the card for a second, then shifted my gaze to her. “Where is it?” I asked. “It’s at reception,” she replied. “Throw it away,” I said.

Now I wondered if it had been the stillness of someone who had already decided to disappear. I closed the laptop. The silence in my apartment pressed in. After a moment, I opened it again. I told myself I was only curious. I typed her name into the search bar. Bella Hayes. The results appeared — old press mentions from Hayes Conglomerates events, the same gala photograph in a few outlets, a brief society column from two years ago that referred to her as “wife of CEO Ethan Hayes, formerly of the Adkins family.” Formerly of the Adkins family.

But of course, my luck was not on me today. “Ella? Ella Lattone, is that you?” His sultry voice was coming into my eardrums like I was being caressed by it. I turned slowly as Daisy was arching her eyebrows at me before I glared at her. She rolled her eyes before I turned to look at Hayes. Cameron Hayes, the cold man of WWF. Which happened to be my boss and my crush once upon a time. “Hi, Mr. Hayes. Long time no see,” I said as I was trying to be cheerful in my tone. I cringed at my attempt.

8 Years Later... Allisya Mireya Samudra, who is usually called Reya, is now 16 years old. She is living his days as a student at a Senior High School at a well-known private school, a school that has smart students in every academic field and subject. One of them is Reya, the girl always managed to win first place in modeling competitions. She looks like a grown woman if she is stylish and walks the catwalk, but without everyone knowing that is not a desire in her heart. She did all of that because of a man she still loves unluckily.