Cat Burglar Nami

| Eternal Devotion Series • Completed | Elise Dorne is one of the finest hunters of the Elysium order-cold, precise, and relentless. When she's assigned to track down Vael Laurent D'Rath, a notorious mafia lord who thrives in the shadows, she expects just another mission. But as their deadly game of cat and mouse unfolds, Elise and Vael begin to uncover fragments of a past-memories of another life, another time, where their fates were intertwined in ways far more dangerous than they ever imagined. With every step closer to the truth, the lines between hunter and prey blur, and Elise is forced to question everything she knows. Is Vael truly her enemy, or has destiny bound them together for something far greater than revenge?

"You are more than enough for me, Mia Cara. I wish you would know how much." She was running from one devil but fell straight into the arms of another. Miabella Dennison thought marrying Matteo Valdrighi was her way out. He was rich, charming, and just enough to piss off her toxic family. But then his older brother walked in, Rafael Valdrighi, and became the only man who ever looked at her like she was more than just a doll to be moved around. Rafael wasn’t supposed to care, but she also wasn’t supposed to fall. Now, she’s trapped between two brothers, one who owns her life, and the other who’s starting to own her heart. And when the cat is let out the bag, Miabella will have to decide: Is love worth breaking every rule for?

Elena had once believed that silence could mean safety. That a gentle hand and a warm cup of tea placed quietly on her desk every morning could be a form of love. Lucien was never cruel—not in the obvious ways. He remembered how she liked her eggs, noticed when she swapped her perfume, and sent flowers on days he knew she wouldn’t expect them. He raised her like one would raise a pet—softly, without question. And Elena, foolish in the way only the very lonely can be, mistook his quiet affection for devotion. She told herself he was reserved. Mysterious. That love didn’t always wear its heart on its sleeve. But when the old flame returned—the one who spoke his language without needing to try—Elena saw it. The difference. He looked at her like a man who had found his lost religion. And Elena? She had simply been convenient. No tears, no scene. Just papers on the breakfast table, beside the eggs he cooked perfectly. She didn’t accuse or beg. She only asked for freedom. He didn’t sign. He chuckled. A soft, dismissive sound. “A cat raised indoors doesn’t know how to survive on the street, Elena. You’ll come back." But she didn’t. She disappeared, like smoke—except she didn’t vanish, not really. She lived. She wore colour again. Laughed at bad jokes. Let strange men hand her coffee and ask for her number. Lucien? He watched. He watched her become someone without him. And it drove him mad. The night he cornered her outside the gallery, rain in his hair and desperation in his eyes, he looked like a man undone. "Elena," he breathed, "please. Look at me. Just once." She did. Calm as ever, and her love already gone.