Novel Upper West Side Novels & Stories

Slowly, deliberately, he pulled it up. ​Our eyes met in the reflection. He leaned down slightly, his breath warm against my ear. "You don't need to fit into my mother's world, Ruby. You are the event. Remember that." ​The drive to the Upper East Side was a silent, tense countdown. When the sleek black town car finally pulled up to the historic Ray townhouse, the sheer weight of old Manhattan money practically radiated from the limestone facade. This house had history, power, and walls that had guarded the city's tightest secrets for generations.

“It’s filthy here. You can sleep on my jacket first. Please put up with this. We’re only going to be here for a night.” “How about you then?” Deirdre was confused because there was only one bed. “I’ll sleep on the couch. Don’t worry. I brought a jacket with me so I won’t catch a cold.” Tobey shut the window and moved to the sofa. “Sorry for troubling you today. We’ll head to the west zone first thing in the morning.” “West zone?” Deirdre was stunned. If she remembered correctly, the west zone was the area for the wealthy. It was the best location in Surstate, and the prices of items and houses were 10 to 20 times higher than in the east zone.

After speaking with Joanna extensively over the last few weeks, I’d finally gotten a better understanding of how things were going to be now. The first thing we’d done was manage to get an apartment in the Upper East Side. It was a quaint two-bedroom which was about ten minutes away from my new office. Rachel and I had chosen it together, and we’d gotten an old friend of hers to handle everything over here before we came back. We would need to get some furniture over the next few days, and I was looking forward to doing that.

Lucien The city never really slept, but from the 47th floor of Wolfe Holdings, it at least seemed like it did. Manhattan’s lights glittered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my private office—cold, clean, distant. The kind of view meant to inspire power. Tonight, it felt like a war map.

My knees buckled, and before I knew it, I was shoving William’s arms away, tears streaming down my face as I stumbled out of his fancy Upper East Side townhouse. I didn’t care that my heels were slipping on the polished hardwood or that the cold Manhattan air bit at my bare arms. I just wanted to disappear, to vanish into the city’s chaos and let it swallow me whole. I wandered the streets, my red satin dress still stained with dirt from last night’s accident, the Band-Aid on my forehead itching like a reminder of my humiliation. The Upper East Side loomed around me—townhouses lined up like stone sentinels, their windows reflecting the golden glow of the afternoon sun. I could feel the weigh

The conversation with Steph went better than I thought, and as I stand in front of the huge building in the Upper East Side where my mother lives now, my entire body freezes, and a doorman wearing a black suit and a black hat with white gloves looks at me. “Can I help you with anything, miss?” He asks, and I nod slightly. “I am Niccola Fairchild,” I say, but before I can say anything else, he steps forward, gripping my luggage, and smiles. “Mr. Sutcliffe has made arrangements for your arrival, m’am.” The doorman says, and my eyes widen slightly. “This way,” he says, guiding me to an elevator at the back of the corridor. “Private entrance to Mr. and Mrs Suttcliffe's penthouse,” he says, and I

Divorced by Dawn, Queen by Dusk — Book Two: The Blood Crown Chapter Twenty-Five: Vera Vera Webb lived in a brownstone on the Upper West Side that had been in the Webb family since 1912. The building announced its age without apology — the stone worn smooth at the corners, the door hardware original brass gone dark with handling, the kind of house that had absorbed enough time to become indifferent to impression.

I’m relieved to see her put her hand down and get the car on the road. The journey is fast after the long hours on the most uncomfortable coach journey in history. The apartment is nice, as apartments go. It’s on the Upper East Side, a little too close to Arrick’s for comfort, but as I’m currently avoiding him like the plague, I hope it won’t be an issue. Arrick always swung in different social circles to me, so I hope I won’t run into him anytime soon.

With my hand in his we enter an elevator and with me in his arms we float up. When we get to the top of the building, he opens a door and as we step inside, I hold my breath. Look, my own homes are definitely built according to the most modern architecture and every year I have an assessment made to upgrade the facilities. But what I see here is definitely taken from the latest architecture magazine. Now I remember that the West Village is one of the most expensive neighborhoods in New York and only the wealthy in the Fellogan family range can afford an estate here. I have to order Kaylah to come here shopping some time, I think.

The opulent memories of my parents' house on Manhattan's Upper East Side shimmer in my mind like gilded threads through time. That part of the city is an embodiment of grandeur and privilege where luxury dances with elegance. It was within the walls of our family's majestic mansion that Charity, our unwavering caretaker, found her place in our lives when I was a tender five-year-old. Her presence became an irreplaceable pillar for us, especially for Rachel, my daughter, who never felt the void of her absent mother.