Inside Her Novels & Stories

she whispered to herself. She put on a high-collared white silk blouse and a tight black pencil skirt. She looked like the perfect professional assistant. She brushed her hair until it was smooth and straight. On the outside, she looked ready for a business meeting. On the inside, she was screaming. She remembered the way the cold glass of the window felt against her chest while Kael took her from behind. She remembered the sound of his voice in the dark boardroom.

Inside is a letter from a woman named Maya. She writes: "I was in a hospital waiting room three weeks ago. My boyfriend had put me there. I was waiting for test results on my arm, which he had broken. I had a book with me that someone had lent to me. Your book. I read the entire thing in one sitting in that hospital waiting room. I cried through chapter seven. I recognized myself in every word you wrote about being afraid and being in love and being trapped in the same person simultaneously.

Adrenaline flooded my system like a physical strike. Through the narrow crack in the door, the sharp, unmistakable click of a designer heel echoed against the floor tiles inside the room. A shadow moved across the slit of light, blocking the view of the bed. Sienna was inside.

This life that was so completely present and so completely hers that there was nowhere to stand outside it. She had been afraid of being completely inside it. She had been afraid of the inside. And here she was in the inside of it and it was exactly as warm as he had promised it would be and she was not afraid of the inside anymore. She was, in fact, glad of it. She had not known how glad until this minute, in this kitchen, with this news between them and his arm around her and the February city outside and the

She had learned to hold everything inward now, to channel memory into silence. In the elevator, she pressed the button to the top floor and closed her eyes for a brief moment as the doors swung shut. She inhaled deeply and felt her heartbeat shift—slow and controlled. Her reflection in the mirrored walls remained composed, a woman stepping into expectation. She breathed deep again, reminding herself that all of what made her ache belonged behind closed doors, invisible to others. She would carry it. She could decide when to let it surface and whom to let see.

On the outside, I was what they expected from a woman at the top—elegant, powerful, intimidating. But inside? Inside, I was something else entirely. I was a storm in hiding. A fire buried beneath five years of ice. Every heartbeat in my chest was fueled by memories I could never erase—of betrayal, of injustice, of nights I cried alone, of dreams I was forced to bury.

"I don't take visitors." "We know." Torin said, "we're not visiting. We're asking." "Same thing." she said, "I still don't do it." "He'll die." I said. She looked at me a moment longer. Then she stepped back from the door and turned into the hut and said, "Come in then. Don't touch anything." Inside was the hut's real self, the outside having apparently been the polite version. Every surface had something on it, jars and bundles and objects that had no name I knew.

And it was in that stillness, in that one broken moment between truth and denial, that she understood where she was. Not just physically. Not just on a cartel estate, not just in the heart of an empire built on blood. She was inside something else entirely. Not a home nor a prison. She was inside a house of secrets and games.

She should delete every memory of his presence in her boardroom. Yet her fingers hovered above her phone without pressing any button. Her hand trembled. A foreign sensation. She clenched her jaw and forced her control back into place. She walked to the window again. The city lights flickered to life as dusk began to rise. Her reflection stared back at her. Perfect hair. Perfect posture. A woman who ruled everything she touched. But inside her reflection she saw something else. Something unfamiliar. Something dangerous. Desire. The truth hit her like cold rain.

--- Closer. --- Quieter. --- --- And this time— --- She didn’t feel it as something external. --- --- She felt it… --- Inside. --- --- And that changed everything.