Cold Trap Novel Novels & Stories

I froze. Steph hadn’t returned. MarIa wasn’t near. No one should be here. The rustlIng deepened. A shuffle. The scrape of a foot. My chest locked. My legs trembled. The closet door cracked open. A foot stepped out. A man’s shoe. I lifted my eyes—slow, terrIfIed. A chest. Shoulders. A face. That smIle. Those eyes, full of memorIes and sIn. “Hey?” Maxwell saId, hIs voIce low, recognItIon danglIng In It. My body froze, rooted to the floor.

POV: Nova --- The Coldwell estate sat behind wrought-iron gates like it had secrets it didn’t want to share. Everything was too polished, too perfect. The hedges sculpted like they were afraid to grow out of line, the gravel so smooth under my tires I barely heard a crunch as I rolled in. The engine of my bike growled once before I killed it. The quiet that followed pressed against my ears like a warning.

Cleo, on the other hand, had a predatory glint in her eye that usually meant she had a secret to spill. "You look exhausted, Ti," Mari noted, pulling back. Her icy blue eyes, usually sharp and discerning from her role as C.O.O. at Masemann Books, held that deep-seated weariness that only came with motherhood. "And your hair... honey, did you walk here through a wind tunnel?" "I fell asleep on the couch," I defended, reaching up to smooth down a stray curl. "I was reading the Taylor manuscript. It’s eight hundred pages of metaphors about existential dread."

There's still some hidden cash in the house. The next morning, before it was even light out, Nora's voice rang through the house. "Clara, get up! Are you really going to lie there all day?" The moment I stepped out of my room, she pushed a cup of dark liquid toward my mouth. "Drink it. It'll help you get pregnant!" I couldn't dodge in time. A few mouthfuls went down, and I almost threw up. "I'll drink it myself. You go do your thing."

The smell of mold permeated the air, making me choke and cough. I didn't know where I was being taken to. Suddenly, I saw a light in front of me, coming through a half-closed door. Immediately, I shook off the man's hand and ran toward the light. Shocked, he tried to grab me, but I slapped him hard. Caught unaware, the man paused. He was dazed. His spectacles fell onto the ground with a clink and were promptly stepped on and destroyed. The light was getting closer. Hope welled up in my heart.

“What stuff could you possibly still have here? I threw out your clothes years ago. Dan said your books were taking up space, so he sold them. Oh, and those houseplants you kept? They all died.” She paused, then added, “I stopped watering them on purpose.” I turned and pressed the elevator button. Her voice followed me from behind. “Stella, don’t make this uglier than it has to be. You have nothing now. You can’t beat me.” The elevator doors slid shut. I leaned back against the cold metal wall and closed my eyes. Five years. I thought I had been climbing the ladder of my career. It turned out I had just been giving them their honeymoon.

Sophia's POV The grand chandelier flickered with a strange kind of coldness that night. It lit the parlor like a stage, a cruel stage, and I sat there, straight-backed and silent, next to Zack with my fingers interlaced tightly in my lap so no one would see them shake. The room smelled of fake, old money, and silent tension. Mr. Holmes was standing by the fireplace, a glass of Johnny Walker in hand, posture strong and polished like always—his words always heavy before they even left his mouth.

It is called; AMBIVALENCE: An Interracial Billionaire Love Story. It is filled with a lot of spice and steam and a romantic plot line with a sprinkle of drama. Plus for my chocolate mamas who like their coffee with a little crème, then this is definitely a story for you. Did I mention the lead is a Navy Seal with arm tattoos and a bad boy attitude? Again, thank you all for your support.

But it was coming. Like her. Like desire. Like the beginning of something… irreversible. ★★★★★ The cold woke her. Not the kind of winter chill that seeps beneath your skin. No. This was different. This was the cold of metal. Of fear. Svetlana blinked. The light was dim, golden—strangely warm for what felt like hell. But the low hum that filled the space anchored her to reality: she was trapped. Disoriented. Her body weighed heavy, as if every muscle were soaked in lead. Around her, shadows danced on panels of polished wood. A luxury that felt tainted.

Anyway, watch out for some weird ass gun kink with our favorite couple. Have fun! P.S. My new book "His Dominant Sub" is out on GoodNovel now, featuring another couple from the Red Room. Do give it a try and let me know what you think. ~ Chloe is standing by the doorway with her hands resting on the straps of her bag and her eyes moving from the smeared blood on the floor straight to my face. Priya is right behind her, chewing on a piece of gum, her brow raised in that classic, investigative way she adopts whenever she smells drama.