London Novel Novels & Stories

“You know, for someone that always has a comeback, you’re awfully quiet.” London chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.“Just tired, I guess.” “Uh-huh.” I don’t believe him. I never do when people say that. Tired is just code for emotionally overwhelmed. Or trying not to explode. We walk another block. Then I ask, “So… do you even have a girlfriend?” London stops mid-step and coughs like I just shoved a piece of steak down his throat. I laugh. I can't help it. “What the hell, Cam?” he sputters. “Where did that come from?”

I haven’t even touched my suitcase yet and already my nerves are buzzing like I’m about to be interviewed for a position I didn’t apply for. I opt for sleek casual. Black jeans, a cropped cashmere sweater, and heeled boots that say yes-I-own-my-choices. Minimal makeup, light perfume. I don’t know what I’m trying to prove. Maybe just that I can play this part too. That I can look like someone worthy of being whisked away to London on a whim. London is completely different from New York. The buildings have seen some shit over the past few centuries, and nobody's looking at me like I might be plotting something. It's weirdly refreshing.

"How is London?" I see he's in a car, a Lambo probably, because coupled with being handsome, he's also rich. I chew my bottom lip at his question because I haven't step outside, and do not know how London is, but that changes now, I will show Chynna I am not mourning. "London is fine, what part of the world are you in?" I say, running my hand over my face, feeling self concious. "New Orleans." He smiles, and I nod, that place nostalgic.

Alexander sat beside me, his arm casually draped along the back of the bench, not quite touching me but close enough that I could feel his warmth. "London at night is something else," I said, breaking our comfortable silence. "It is." His voice was low, intimate in the darkness. "Different energy than New York." "Older. More mysterious." I tilted my head back to look at the sky, barely able to make out any stars through the city's glow. "Like it's keeping secrets." "Every city has its secrets." "Including you?" The question slipped out before I could stop it. His eyes found mine in the dim light. "Especially me."

The luxurious penthouse in the heart of London offered a breathtaking view of the illuminated city skyline, Big Ben, and the Thames River sparkling below. The cool evening air carried the faint scent of rain on concrete, expensive leather, and the subtle warmth of a crackling fireplace. Soft ambient lighting highlighted the modern yet elegant interior with its floor-to-ceiling windows and plush furnishings.

They drove back south on the twenty-eighth into a London that had emptied itself out for the strange dead week between Christmas and the new year, the streets soft and underpopulated, half the shops dark, the whole city holding its breath in the way it only did for those few grey days a year. The flat when they let themselves into it was cold and unlit and entirely, perfectly theirs, and Olivia stood in the middle of it with her coat still on and felt the specific deep relief of

“London. With her here.” Her lips parted, and then, a slow, genuine smile curved them. The kind of smile that didn't quite reach her eyes but held a hint of a deeper truth. “It feels… lighter.” The word caught me off guard. Lighter. I’d never associated London with anything light. For me, it had always been a battlefield—a place of ruthless contracts, sterile boardrooms, and cold, impersonal hotel rooms. It was a city of ambition and weight. Yet, looking at her now, bathed in the gentle streetlamp glow, at the quiet warmth she carried even when she tried so hard to hide it, I understood. She wasn’t talking about the city; she was talking about herself.

Nathaniel's POV When we got back to London, the traffic was surprisingly light for a late December afternoon. Even though it was the twenty-sixth, the city was usually packed with tourists this time of year. I drove through the familiar streets, passing historic buildings that stood shoulder to shoulder with sleek modern ones, that unique mix that just was London. The low winter sun hovered near the horizon, casting everything in a soft golden light that made even the plainest buildings look like they belonged in a movie.

Zane grinned, stuffing the spent monster back in his pants. “Same to you, daddy,” London winked, wiping down the shiny jeweled toy and putting it back on the shelf. London may have been known as a high riding bitch of the publishing world, but being a bitch was who she was, it was the fiber of her being and the core of her soul. This bossy bitch knew how to get what she wanted, and more importantly how to keep it.