Classical Conversations Review Novels & Stories

"You look like this is the last place you want to be just because I'm here. Am I really that vile?" Timothy said nothing. Instead he gritted his teeth and shoved his hands into his pocket. Even in her anger, Chloe noticed him... Every inch of him... And his smell. She could pick out his unique scent. Rough. Masculine and mouthwateringly . It made no sense to her, but she was attuned to his every nuance. The man she had called her best friend until a dizzying series of events dissolved the title like sugar in hot water stared at her dispassionately. It was a good thing they were outside and she hoped that he couldn't see the hurt and disappointment on her face. The look wasn't just in his eyes. It seeped through every shrug, every curl of lips she had once thought were the most perfectly created set of lips on earth. She looked deeper, pathetically desperate to find something else. Something more. A reminder of those times when they would talk to each other for hours, and resume conversations the moment they saw one another again. But clearly the Tim she knew had been replaced by a harder, edgier version of a Timothy Kavell - Packard. He was hard and edgy and cynical to start off with. If she had known that he hated her this much, she wouldn't have agreed to his parents' offer to have dinner with them. She had agreed because a part of her had hoped that somehow, they would fix things and be friends again... And she was just beginning to see how wrong she had been....

Cole McKnight is a disciplined, bodyguard hired by Senator Richard Irwin to protect his 23 years oldson, Ashton, after he begins receiving threats. Cole's impression of Ashton just another rich kid living off his father's money. But small moments reveal Ashton's depth and intelligence, Cole finds his professional mask slipping. When Cole is forced to move into Ashton's house for round-the-clock protection, the tension becomes unbearable. Charged conversations and stolen moments build a connection neither can deny. Cole is terrified not just of his job, but of the senator's power and what he could do to destroy Cole if he discovered his bodyguard had crossed the line. Everything changes when Marcus, Cole's contact and trusted ally, reveals the truth: the threats aren't random. Senator Irwin is involved in campaign finance fraud, embezzlement, and money laundering at the highest levels. The threats are leverage a way to keep him compliant. And Ashton is the point. Cole and Ashton flee to a safe house, their forced proximity finally breaking Cole's resolve. They become intimate, but the moment is shattered by armed attackers. Cole kills the intruders, but one injures Ashton before Cole takes him down. They ran to safe house not knowing it's compromised from the inside. The betrayal becomes clear in the final chapter: Marcus, the man Cole has trusted for years, has been working for the criminal the whole time He orchestrated every every plan, every moment of danger. When Marcus sends Ashton a photo of his father beaten in an industrial warehouse, he demands Cole bring Ashton to him—alone—or he dies. Cole's is No longer a bodyguard bound by professional ethics, he's a warrior. With Ashton's hand in his and backup secretly in place, he walks toward the warehouse, toward Marcus, toward a confrontation that will determine whether they survive

Isabella Rossi has 48 hours to come up with €300,000 or her brother Luca disappears permanently. Luca gambled with the wrong man — Alessandro De Santis, Il Capo of Milan’s most feared crime family. When Isabella storms into his club to beg for mercy, Alessandro offers her a deal instead of a bullet. One year. Live at his Lake Como estate. Be his on paper when he demands it. Follow his rules. After 365 days, the debt is erased and her brother walks free. Break the contract early, and Luca pays with blood. To Alessandro, Isabella is just a new experiment. Politicians, cops, rival bosses — they all break within days of meeting him. He’s curious how long it takes a woman with nothing left to lose. To Isabella, Alessandro is a monster in a tailored suit. Cold, controlling, and lethal. Rule #1: Don’t fall in love with me. Easy, she thinks. She hates him. But the estate isn’t a prison of iron bars. It’s gilded cages, midnight conversations in the library, scars he doesn’t explain, and a man who watches her like she’s the only threat he can’t neutralize. The more rules he makes, the more he breaks them himself. Protection turns into possession. Glances turn into touches. And the contract’s fine print becomes a countdown neither of them can escape. Because Alessandro has enemies who want his empire, and now they want her too. When Luca’s betrayal runs deeper than debt and Isabella becomes a target, Alessandro has to choose: the empire he killed to build, or the woman he swore was just collateral. 365 days to survive him. 365 days for him to ruin her. 365 days to fall in love with the last man she should ever trust.

PHOEBE - Holy mother of craps! I had lost my virginity to the college’s bad boy, Asher Gilbert. And, he told me it meant nothing to him. He told me to get lost! ********* ASHER - All my life till now, no one had ever intimidated me. Not anyone. Not my dad, nor the school principal… Not those street gangs… lastly, not the mafia. But this strange girl— a Maserati shows up. Making me urge to brand her, as mine. ********** “Why are you like this to me?” “What do you mean?” “Why are you so dismissive but save me, every time I land in trouble?” He didn’t reply that. Instead, he sighed, crunching the plastic bottle in his hand. He threw it in anger to the other side of the room. Then he approached me. I took three steps back, timidly. His intimidating gaze dropped towards mine. He didn’t stop until the back of my head contacted the wall. Only then did his both hands angle at the sides of my head. My eyes immediately gorged at his hard-on. Flash backs of the night we had together immediately ran through my brain. The only thing I could think of was the way my mouth was wrapped around him. His Adam’s apple swallowed numerous times, making me wonder what he thought of. It was like one of those scenes of movies. Like he was in a battle with himself. But the question was, what was he so protective about? Why didn’t he like making conversations with females? “I’m never gonna change, Phoebe. Remember that,” ********* What is worse than drunken one-night-stand, with the college’s bad boy? Or a cold treatment thereafter? However, one pregnancy changes it all. In this love so wrong, can they ever make things right?

She was nobody but a lowly maid in their mansion who spent her whole life living in their pity. She had no education, no etiquette, and no qualification to be the elder daughter-in-law of the prestigious Morin family. She was just a nobody with a big mouth and an over-friendly personality. But for some unknown reason, they decided to choose her as the bride of their elder son, Roman Morin, also known as the cold and cunning CEO of the Morin Industry who detested her sole existence from the very beginning. _____________________________ _________________ "What the fuck were you doing by fighting with Clara in a room full of people? Are you fucking out of your mind? What if someone else overheard your conversations instead of me? Why are you so fucking hell bound to drag my reputation down?" Roman yelled at her angrily, making her flinch at his words. "Well if you heard our conversation then you already know who started this. So instead of yelling at me, why don't you go to her?" She spat at him angrily. "I don't fucking care who started what. All I care about is my family and my reputation. I have already warned you about this. If you again do anything that harms my image then I'm not going to play nice. Behave yourself and maintain your manner. You are no longer a maid but my wife. So stop behaving like an illiterate maid and start acting like my wife for which I paid you." Roman uttered those words like poison which caused Athena's heartburn.She bit her inside the cheek to stop her tears from falling. She must not cry. She wouldn't let words affect her. She didn't want this humiliation. She didn't want to be here. But she had no choice.

When Olivia moves into her father’s house, she expects discomfort and distance—not the quiet pull she feels toward his son. Adrian is older, already in college, and careful in ways that make him seem unreachable. At first, he treats her like a responsibility, someone he needs to look out for. But closeness has a way of changing things. It begins with small moments. Lingering conversations late into the night. Shared laughter that feels too intimate. The way Adrian always seems to notice when Olivia is overwhelmed, the way his voice softens when he speaks to her. What starts as protection slowly becomes attention—and attention turns into something dangerously close to desire. Olivia feels it first. A flutter in her chest when he enters the room. The way her breath catches when their eyes meet for a second too long. Adrian feels it too, even as he fights it—pulling away one moment, drawn back the next. They never say the words. They don’t have to. Every look holds meaning. Every accidental brush of hands lingers longer than it should. The air between them grows thick with everything they refuse to admit. They know the line they’re standing on. They know crossing it would change everything. Yet the heart doesn’t care about rules. What grows between them is soft but consuming—tender, aching, and forbidden. A love born in restraint, made stronger by everything they deny themselves. When their secret is discovered, it shatters them both. Adrian is sent away without goodbye. Olivia is left behind, clutching memories that feel too precious and too painful to keep. Years later, Olivia has built the life she once dreamed of. But some feelings don’t burn fast and disappear. They smolder. They wait. And they never truly let go.

Ella James has spent most of her life being overlooked, underestimated, or laughed at. At school, she’s the girl in the oversized hoodies. The girl people make jokes about. The girl no one chooses. After years of disappointment, Ella has learned not to expect much from anyone—especially not from Beckett Cross. Popular, confident, and seemingly perfect, Beckett has always been everything Ella avoids. He’s the kind of boy who belongs at the center of every room while she’s spent years trying to disappear into the background. Then a family emergency forces Ella to move in next door. Suddenly, the boy who barely notices her at school becomes impossible to avoid. Inside his home, Beckett is different. Kinder. Softer. Protective in ways that leave Ella questioning everything she thought she knew about him. But every morning when they walk back into school, the walls go back up, leaving Ella trapped between two versions of the same boy. One who looks at her like she’s special. And one who acts like she doesn’t matter. As feelings grow and old insecurities refuse to stay buried, Beckett finds himself facing a truth he never expected: somewhere between late-night conversations, family dinners, and stolen moments, Ella became the first person he looks for. But loving Ella means more than feeling something when nobody is watching. It means choosing her when everyone is. And for a girl who’s spent her entire life feeling like someone’s second choice, that may be the one thing she can never compromise on. A slow-burn emotional romance about self-worth, first love, healing old wounds, and learning that being seen can be the scariest—and most beautiful—thing of all.

Ava Reyes has spent four years doing what she does best — keeping her feelings exactly where they cannot do any damage. She is twenty-nine, co-owner of a thriving bakery, and hopelessly in love with the one man she has absolutely no business wanting. Marcus Calloway is her best friend's older brother — steady, brilliant, and infuriatingly easy to be near. When he left for London six years ago, Ava buried her feelings and moved on. Or did a convincing enough impression of it. Then Marcus comes home. Permanently. And he is engaged. His fiancée, Isabelle Ferreira, is a sharp London solicitor who is warm, intelligent, and impossible to resent. She has done nothing wrong. She deserves everything she has. Which makes what Ava is beginning to want all the more dangerous. Because the more Ava finds herself near Marcus — at family dinners, in stolen conversations, in the small accidental moments that keep finding them together — the more she notices things she shouldn't. The way he watches her. The way the air shifts between them when no one else is paying attention. She is not a woman who chases unavailable men. She has a conscience, and it is loud. But she is also a woman who is tired of being careful. What begins as a private war with herself slowly becomes something more deliberate. Ava doesn't set out to destroy anything. She simply sets out to make Marcus Calloway finally see her. What she doesn't account for is how much it will cost — and how deeply she will fall before she understands the difference between wanting someone and deserving them. Some fires don't care how carefully you've been living.

On the week before Valentine's Day, I want to buy my husband, Grayson Strickland, who works as a university professor, an electronic toothbrush as a gift. That's when I see a review with over ten thousand likes on a particular online store. "I recommend buying from this store! This store's electronic toothbrush is super durable! I've never had to charge this toothbrush for half a year!" Three days later, an additional response is made to that comment. "I'm sorry for misleading everyone. It turns out that my husband has been charging this toothbrush this whole time. It's my fault for being such a doofus! I even pestered him for a long time before I finally found out that he has done a lot for me! "I never have to add toilet rolls to the bathroom. All I thought is that the same toilet roll is extremely thick. The membership that I have on the TV app is often paid for and extended, and yet I thought there was a bug in the app software somehow. Some time ago, the peeling dry skin on my lips miraculously healed. It turns out he was the one who kept applying lip balm onto my lip at night. "He's a university professor, you see. In the past, I often blamed him for not knowing what being romantic was like. But now, I finally realize that those who love you will have a way of showing you how it's done." The rest of the comment section is filled with wailing complaints. They all complain that Valentine's Day isn't even here, and yet they are already sick of the lovey-dovey atmosphere. Amid the Internet users' constant requests, the poster finally uploads the handsome side profile of her husband. Feeling rather envious, I tap on the photo, only for my smile to freeze on my face. That photo actually features Grayson! As I stare at my mother-in-law, who has been paralyzed in bed for the past six years, I recall the fact that Grayson lives on the university campus all around the year. That's when uneasiness begins plaguing me. As expected, when I bring my marriage certificate to the County Clerk’s office and ask about it, the clerk points at the stamp and says, "Your marriage certificate is fake. Mr. Grayson Strickland's spouse is another woman named Callista Whitman." My fingers go slack subconsciously, causing the fake marriage certificate to fall to the floor. A chuckle of despair escapes my lips. Everyone knows that Callista is Grayson's student. She's his most prized student as well as the person who knows him the best. As for me… I'm just a free caretaker whom he has "hired".

She’d built two years of walls and he dismantled them in one evening. He didn’t announce himself. He never had to. The last person she expected walked in like he was exactly where he was supposed to be. Halle hadn’t seen Adrian Vale in two years. Two years of carefully avoiding his name in conversations, his face on screens, and the memory of waking up in his bed, fully dressed, completely alone, and somehow disturbed by that, than if anything had actually happened. Then he showed up to her best friend’s wedding like he owned the place. He reached over her shoulder, lifted the glass of champagne from her hand without spilling a single drop, brought it slowly to his lips, held her gaze the entire time and had the absolute nerve to look good doing it. Adrian Vale didn’t do anything halfway. He never needed to raise his voice because the room already belonged to him. He never reached for things…things simply found their way into his hands. Including, apparently, her. On a moonlit dance floor, his hand slid warm and certain up her spine, his forehead dropped to hers in the dark, and he said the thing that short-circuits every rational thought in her head. “You’re the only thing I’d let ruin me.” He pulled her in for a kiss, close enough to feel his breath, close enough to lose her mind completely, and then he pulled away. Leaving her wanting. He calls her starlight like it’s a secret only he gets to keep. And Halle is so embarrassingly, helplessly gone for him. The ones who make you forget your own name? Those are the ones worth ruining yourself for.