Lila Rose Author Novels & Stories

She carried a leather satchel and a paper cup of coffee that she set on Evelyn’s desk as if the office already belonged to her. “Black, two sugars,” Lila said. “The way widows drink it.” Evelyn’s mouth went dry. “How did you—” “I pay attention.” Lila pulled the visitor’s chair closer, turned it around, and straddled it backward. The skirt rode high enough to reveal the lace band of her stockings and a sliver of bare thigh above. She rested her arms on the chair back, chin on her forearms, and smiled. “So. My thesis. Female hunger in twentieth-century confessional poetry. I brought the new pages.”

I replied cockily, my wolf growling in disapproval. Watch your tone with her, my wolf warned, his voice seething in my head. He had no tolerance for my arrogance when it came to Lila. The dumbass beast was utterly whipped. He didn’t care that she constantly challenged me or hurled insults my way. The moment her intoxicating plum and jasmine scent reached him, he practically turned into a lovesick puppy. Lila rolled her eyes dramatically, shaking her head as if she didn’t care. “Whatever,” she muttered, her dismissive tone making my wolf growl softly in my chest.

“Keep your voice down. The walls here have ears.” “Whose?” Lila asked. “Her guards? That gamma with the suspicious eyes? You really think anyone will question the sweet pregnant Luna?” “Yes.” I turned. “Because I would.” She rolled her eyes and flopped back on the bed. “You’re getting paranoid.” “Paranoia keeps us alive.” I bent to straighten the basket Rose had left behind; her scent still clung to the cloth—lavender, honey, that faint trace of wolf and sandalwood she picked up from him. “She’s smarter than she looks. If she keeps asking questions, she’ll find the cracks.”

Professor's Pet Chapter 1: The Punishment The lecture hall had emptied hours ago, leaving only the faint echo of departing students and the low hum of the air conditioning. Lila sat alone in the front row, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat. At twenty-one, she was a straight-A student, meticulous and careful—until tonight. The plagiarism accusation had come out of nowhere, a cruel twist that threatened everything she had worked for.

POV: Lila (primary), Kehra (wind-borne presence), Maximus (beneath her pause), Elora (steadied softness), Thread (unspeaking, never absent) Lila I didn’t expect the thread to bloom. But this morning wrapped into the seam of my sleeve where I thought it had frayed one end unfurled. Not like a symbol. Like a petal waking up. It wasn’t brighter. It just moved. And in that movement, I realized:

|| Author Pov || Rosalie returned from the garden with a single rose clutched gently in her hand. She was finally leaving today. And she wanted to take just a small piece of the place she had cherished as a last memory. When she stepped inside the mansion, Lilia approached quietly. “I heard you’re leaving?” Lilia asked in a gentle voice but it tinged with sadness. Rosa paused, letting the question hang in the air before nodding once. “You won’t be ever coming back?” Lilia’s voice wavered and eyes gleamed with sadness.

A looked crossed his eyes,but it went away as quickly as it came, and soon he was looking at me amused again. "Of course, I didn't anticipate finding raunchy books in a sweet girl's bag, you're definitely right. Noted, I'm never doing that again." I scowled and he smirked. "So Rosie?" He asked, I couldn't help it, I rolled my eyes at that, rubbing at my temples. "No, my name's Rosette, not Rosie. That's childish." "Okay, so Rose. Well that's a pretty name for a very pretty girl, as cliché as it sounds, it's the truth, you're a pretty little flower." And the blush that was barely receding was back again.

“Sure.” Taking a deep breath and marvelling in the fragrance of the rose and lavender, the sun providing a subtle warmth and bathing the flowers in its decadent light. For a brief moment, I can succumb to the serenity that forget that this was a ruthless competition, and Lazarus was the ultimate prize. “Do you have any ideas on what you are going to do?” I ask Lila, who was perusing the dandelions with a strange longing in her eyes. “Not really.” She admits, redirecting her attention onto me. “I’m not that skilled in making things, arts and crafts has never been my thing.”

With that, Victoria disappeared down the hall. Lila found herself standing alone with Rose. The woman turned to face her, her gaze sharp and appraising. After a moment of silence, Rose spoke. “You,” she said, pointing a slim finger at Lila. “You seem like the kind of woman my husband would sleep with.” Lila’s head snapped up, her eyes widening in disbelief. “What?” she managed to choke out. Rose let out a low chuckle. “Oh, don’t act so surprised. You’re a maid. Is this the first household you’ve worked in?”

Lila placed a glass of water before her. “Rose, you can’t just sit here. We have to fight back,” Lila pleaded, her voice trembling. Rosemary stared blankly at the remnants of fabric and sketches left after the fire. “I’m tired, Lila… it feels like the universe will never let me rise again.” Lila gripped her hand tightly. “Don’t say that. You’ve come too far to give up now. This is exactly what they want—don’t let them win.” Tears welled at the corners of Rosemary’s eyes. “But what if Adrian believes it too? What if… the whole world really wants me gone?”