Crucial Conversations Novels & Stories

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.

After a brutal breakup and one too many whiskies, Arielle Lawson makes the mistake she swore she’d never repeat—she calls her ex. She never saved his number; she memorized it. Heart memory. Muscle memory. Bad-decision memory. But the man who answers isn’t Daniel. He’s calm. Controlled. Amused by the drunken stranger ranting about betrayal, wasted years, and ruined wedding plans. Arielle hangs up, mortified, convinced the mistake ends there. It doesn’t. Because the number she dialed belongs to Kael Virelli, the elusive leader of a multi-million-dollar anti-government underground syndicate known as The Black Ledger—a man feared by politicians, hunted by intelligence agencies, and obeyed without question. Kael should forget the call. He should erase the number. Instead, he calls back. What begins as anonymous late-night conversations becomes a dangerous ritual neither of them can break. Arielle finds comfort in the mysterious stranger who listens without judgment and understands her in ways no one ever has. Kael becomes addicted to the only person who speaks to him like he’s human—not a weapon, not a myth. Then fate intervenes. When Arielle unknowingly witnesses a violent operation tied to The Black Ledger, the voice she trusts becomes the name everyone fears. Overnight, she transforms from a stranger into a liability—a loose end that Kael’s world would normally erase without hesitation. But Arielle isn’t just anyone. She’s the woman who called him at his most human… and made him answer. Now Kael must choose between protecting the empire he built in shadows or protecting the girl who accidentally dialed her way into his life. Because in a world of secrets, betrayal, and blood money, the most dangerous mistake he ever made wasn’t answering the call. It was falling for the girl who made it.

Jessiah is a make-up artist aspiring to break into the modeling and beauty industry. She moves to LA when she lands a job at one of the biggest production companies in Hollywood. On her first week on the job, she meets Jenson Ross, a big-deal actor with a murky past and a dark secret only a privileged few know about. × Genres: Romance, Werewolf, Crime EXCERPT [BOOK I of CALI ALPHAS ] _ _ _ "Dollface," he murmured with a little smirk. He snickered and caressed the back of her head, pulling her closer to his chest. "You're like an antidepressant, in human form." Her breath caught.  Her heart sped up when his hug tightened. His warm face pressed onto her neck, his strong hands lightly squeezing her hips. Moments like this only worsened her attraction to him.  The flirty jokes, the easy conversations, the small smiles, his furtive glances, and his unusually sweet gestures lately... She was in deep trouble. Was he kissing her neck?  Shit. He was no longer thinking straight.  About this. About her. About the consequences. He drew her closer when she tried to pull away. As if he didn't want her out of his sight. While his beard scraped her skin, his thighs touched hers. Her throat ached as he stared into her eyes. "Dammit," he sighed, his thumb tracing the curve of her neck, his touch both gentle and eager.  "Why are you so f-cking beautiful?"  "Joss, I need to g—" "Why now?" he murmured, stroking her cheek. He wasn't acting drunk or playing with her.  Not like this. He wouldn't. Not with her real feelings barely held together by some unspoken truths. Otherwise he wouldn't dare let it get this far.  But why wouldn't he let go? "Just stay. Please. Stay here with me." _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Ma petite sœur et moi avons eu la chance de renaître dans un monde d'Hommes-Bêtes. Leur Dieu nous a laissé choisir notre identité. La première option : devenir une Femme-Bête, dotée d'une force puissante et d'une silhouette robuste et vigoureuse. La deuxième option : devenir une Sainte, bénéficiant de la capacité de procréer entre de différentes races et d'une silhouette élancée et séduisante. Dans notre vie précédente, pour survivre, ma petite sœur avait choisi de devenir Femme-Bête, tandis que j'étais devenue une Sainte, faible et délicate. Et le résultat ? Elle était rejetée par les hommes, jugée pas assez douce et féminine. Moi, en revanche, grâce à mon corps menu et gracieux, j'avais conquis les trois Hommes-Bêtes les plus puissants et les plus beaux de la tribu, devenant leur préférée. Plus tard, ils étaient devenus les rois de la forêt primitive, et moi, leur déesse, rayonnante de gloire. Rongée par une jalousie dévorante, ma sœur m'avait poussée dans un marais empoisonné. De toutes mes forces, j'avais planté un dard toxique dans son corps, l'entraînant avec moi dans la mort. Quand j'ai rouvert les yeux, nous étions de retour au moment crucial où le Dieu nous demandait de choisir. Cette fois-ci, elle s'est précipitée pour s'emparer du rôle de Sainte. « Rosalie, cette fois, c'est moi qui serai la déesse ! Par pitié, je te laisse ces trois hommes infâmes et impotents. » J'ai réprimé à grand-peine la joie qui explosait en moi. Être enfermée pour servir de ventre reproducteur, quel intérêt ? Il fallait savoir que, dans ce monde primitif, c'était la force qui faisait la loi !

El día del terremoto, mi hermana Elena me empujó desde el tercer piso; luego rompió a llorar y juró que solo había intentado salvarme. Todo el mundo le creyó. La única persona que se puso de mi lado fue Nicoló, el jefe mafioso más joven que había visto Sicilia en décadas. Me sacó entre los escombros con sus propias manos, me pidió matrimonio frente a todos y sentenció que, desde ese día, quien se atreviera a tocarme tendría que responder ante él. Dos meses después, quedé embarazada. Nicoló compró una isla entera y la cubrió de lirios, mis flores favoritas, todo para nuestra boda. Mi padre gastó una fortuna en un vestido de novia único, confeccionado exclusivamente para mí. Todos decían que yo era la mujer más envidiable de toda la familia. Pero cuando llegó el momento del parto, ambos desaparecieron sin dejar rastro. Mi padre me explicó que la familia tenía un trato crucial en juego. Nicoló besó mi vientre abombado, murmuró que volvería pronto y prometió traer regalos para mí y para nuestro bebé. Justo antes de que me llevaran en camilla a la sala de partos, un video anónimo llegó a mi celular. En las imágenes, Nicoló vestía el traje de novio. A su lado estaba Elena, con una mano reposando sobre su propio vientre embarazado y luciendo mi vestido de novia. Se aferraba al brazo de mi prometido, como si lo hubiera conquistado con total legitimidad. Al final del video, mi padre bajó el tono de voz y preguntó: —Si tú y Valentina solo mantienen un matrimonio de papel, ¿qué será del hijo que ella va a dar a luz? Nicoló guardó silencio durante dos segundos antes de responder con frialdad: —Valentina lo tuvo todo desde la infancia. Elena ha cargado toda su vida con la mancha de ser hija ilegítima. Su hijo no tendrá que vivir con ese estigma. Comprendí entonces que toda esa ternura nunca había sido para mí. Estaba destinada a Elena. Bien. Que se tengan el uno al otro.

Every other student could hear the inner thoughts of Chloe Yates, the campus belle. It was like a radio station was broadcasting her mind, and unfortunately for me, the broadcast was usually bad news. It started during the ROTC courses in our freshman year. I was doubled over with terrible period cramps and asked to sit out. Chloe just shook her head, letting out a dramatic, pitying sigh. "Oh, this is awful," her internal voice broadcast to everyone. "Should I tell everyone the truth? Sylvie is totally faking it. If the sergeant finds out she's lying, he's going to punish the whole class because of her." The sergeant, hearing her thoughts, immediately assumed I was a liar. He forced the entire class to run 30 laps as punishment. After that, no one would talk to me. Later, when I applied for the need-based financial aid grant, Chloe went on a rampage with her internal thoughts. "Her family isn't poor!" her voice screamed in everyone's heads. "They have a car and a house. She's just vain. She's trying to scam the college out of grant money so she can buy a new phone. I feel so bad for the actual poor kid whose spot she's stealing." Once the class heard that, they silently agreed to vote against my application. Without that money, I had no choice but to work three part-time jobs just to survive. I worked myself into the ground until I finally gave out. I collapsed in the classroom while clutching my chest, suffering a massive heart attack. I cried out, begging my classmates to call 911. However, Chloe's voice cut through the air right then. "She doesn't have a heart condition. She's pregnant. She's trying to trick a guy into taking her to the hospital so she can get an abortion, and then she's going to frame whoever helps her for getting her knocked up." Terrified of being blamed, the students backed away from me like I was radioactive. They stood there and watched as I died on the classroom floor. Right up until the moment I died, I never understood why my life had turned into such a nightmare. However, when I snapped my eyes open, I had returned to the day of the ROTC courses. The cramps were back, and the sun was beating down on me. Chloe did not know one crucial detail. This time, I could hear her thoughts too.