Kobo Gallery Seattle

"Our time as contract lovers ended. I was no longer his tool. We both went our separate ways, but never did I expect to see Kai Winson, a renowned billionaire, at my work doorstep two weeks later, asking for a second chance." "Name it. Your price, anything if you become mine, no contract, just you." Two weeks later. After Tiffany had moved out of his mansion. Kai finds himself on the next flight to Seattle as his desire for Tiffany grows. However, Tiffany has no plans to get back to him, but Kai is down to do anything for even her attention if that means being a regular customer or her neighbour. Tiffany, on the other hand, is heartbroken and plans to focus on her job, but Kai's presence stirs something within her, as Tiffany gets closer to Kai, her past life hunts her threatening the life of everyone she loves. Extract: He needed to stop before he lost himself completely. His hands fisted in her hair, pulling her away. He leaned in, kissing her deeply before guiding her onto her back, spreading her legs wide. "You're driving me insane, Tiffany Halton," he rasped, his forehead pressing against hers. "God, what am I going to do with you?" She gasped, every inch stretching around him, her breath coming in sharp little cries. Kai clenched his jaw, struggling to keep himself in check as he buried himself inside her. Each time he tried, her body responded with a shiver, a breathy moan that drove him wild. Finally, he breached her, sliding deep inside, burying himself to the hilt. They both moaned. "Oh, fuck," he groaned. Kai looked down, mesmerized by the sight of them joined together. The way he disappeared into her over and over.

The doctor told me I had 72 hours left, unless I got access to the newest experimental treatment. However, there was only one slot available, and my husband Bowen Liddell gave it to my sister Yvonne Lawson instead. "Her kidney failure is more critical," he said. I nodded and swallowed the white pills that would only speed up my death. In the time I had left, I got a lot done. The lawyer's hand trembled as he passed me the documents. "Are you sure you want to transfer the two billion dollars in shares?" I replied, "Yes. Give them to Yvonne." My daughter, Candice Liddell, was giggling in Yvonne's arms. "Mommy Yvonne bought me a new dress!" I said, "It looks beautiful. Make sure you always listen to Mommy Yvonne, okay?" The art gallery I built from the ground up now had Yvonne's name on the sign. "You're too kind, Kathy," she said, crying. I told her, "You'll run it even better than I ever did." I even signed all my parents' trust fund away. That was when Bowen finally gave me his first genuine smile in years. "Kathleen, you've changed. You're not so aggressive anymore... You're beautiful like this." Indeed. This dying version of me finally became the 'perfect Kathleen Sullivan' in their eyes—obedient, generous, and no longer argumentative. The 72-hour countdown had already begun, and I couldn't help but wonder what they would remember when my heart stopped for good. The good wife who 'finally learned to let go', or the woman who completed her revenge by dying?

Sage Casey Ember-Brooks, who goes by Casey, is a fast-food worker and aspiring fantasy novelist whose ordinary life crumbles when mysterious strangers ask cryptic questions about her dragon series. Her recurring dreams of golden coins suddenly make terrifying sense when Marcus Chen—a businessman with eyes that flash gold—reveals that dragons are real, living hidden among humans for centuries. Casey's unnaturally accurate fantasy writing stems from awakening genetic memories. She's a rare "Convergence" bloodline capable of harmonising opposing elemental forces. The revelation comes at a critical time: a new cryptocurrency called DragonCoin, featuring symbols identical to her dreams, creates magical interference that weakens concealment spells protecting dragon society. At the Crossroads shopping complex where she works, disruptions cause dragons to flicker between human and true forms in full view of witnesses. Caught between Marcus (a traditionalist who wants to hide her with the Dragon Council) and the enigmatic Xaihuang (who advocates ending the masquerade entirely), Casey discovers an underground chamber housing ancient dragon artifacts. When she touches a magical coin, visions reveal three futures: chaotic revelation leading to war, continued concealment resulting in magical extinction, or a mysterious third path of integration. Casey realises DragonCoin wasn't created to expose dragons, but by another awakening hybrid like herself—someone in Seattle whose unconscious dragon heritage channels ancient power through modern technology. As magical concealment fails worldwide and dragons begin manifesting publicly, Casey must race across the country to find this unknown programmer before the interference between magic and technology tears reality apart. The story explores themes of identity, integration versus assimilation, and the collision between ancient power and digital-age innovation. With her awakening abilities growing stronger and the masquerade crumbling around her, Casey faces a choice that will determine her fate and the future relationship between the hidden magical world and human civilisation.

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.

On my birthday, I personally prepare 16 dishes. After setting up the candlelight, I open a bottle of red wine. I take a photo and send it to my husband, Eric Sinclair. "I'm working late tonight. Don't wait for me," he replies. I choose to believe him. But after midnight, I notice an Instagram story posted by Shirley Huxley, his secretary. Eric was there with her, dressed in the trench coat I once gave him. They sat side by side in the VIP seat of football stadium where my favorite Super Bowl take place. Entwined in a passionate embrace, they kissed beneath a sea of shimmering lights and the roar of thousands of fans. That game is the one I have always longed to experience with him. I look down at the cold food on the table. Eric's words keep ringing in my head. "I hate kissing." "Marriage is a partnership, not about love and kisses." Though we've been married for ten years, we've never shared a single kiss. Meanwhile, he's out there, kissing Shirley openly and passionately. Despite it all, not a single tear falls from my eyes. The next day, Eric settles into his chair, completely unfazed. "Return the gallery to Shelly," he commands. I nod quietly, saying nothing. Suddenly, Layla Sinclair, my daughter, comes running down the stairs and throws herself into Shirley's arms. "Aunt Shirley, you're my favorite. I don't like Mom!" In that instant, it hits me—the home I devoted my heart and soul to means nothing anymore. It doesn't matter that I've been married to Eric for a decade. Now, all I want is to find myself again. I decide to accept an invitation from the Parisoir School of Fashion Design. From this moment on, I won't wait for them to come home, and I won't look back.