One Fifth Avenue Novel Novels & Stories

Five years of humiliation and five years of being less than a person… Had I even been like a human to them? “You two! Check that side!” Voices echoed from the yard. They were closing in. I snapped back to myself and tore down the mountain path as fast as my legs would carry me. Back in the city, I flagged down the first cab I could find and went straight home, to the place Melissa and I once called home. My steps froze when I pushed open the study door, it was filled with monitors, all displaying live feeds of the estate. Every room, every path, and even the stable that I’d slept in for five years, were displaying right in the middle of the screen.

I pushed open the door and met her eyes with despair. Yet when it came to it, I couldn't force the word out. Instead, I grabbed a glass of red wine from the table and drained it in one swallow. But after just a single glass, my vision swam, my stomach lurched. 'Strange… why does it feel like I'm drunk already?' I wondered. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. With grim resolve, I forced the words out. "Alicia, let's get a divorce." … Alicia froze, then her eyes hardened with scorn.

Chapter 2: The First Night Ava rode the elevator up to the penthouse suite, her heart pounding in her chest. She had been working for Mr. Reynolds for a week now, and while the job itself was not particularly challenging, she found herself increasingly distracted by thoughts of her handsome boss. The way he looked at her, the low rumble of his voice, the way his suit clung to his muscular frame, it all conspired to drive her to distraction.

She went inside and closed the door behind her. She was greeted by the intense silence in the house. She wasn't new to that. 5th Avenue was known to be one of the quietest areas in the city and quite safe too. A lot of the people that lived here were old folks who were just tired of the booming city life and just wanted a quiet place to age peacefully. Then, there were people like Emily who were the rich folks that needed a quiet place to sleep at the end of work every day after being attacked by the boisterous city they worked at.

I might or might not come back, so lock up for me. She smiles. ‘’Have fun.’’ I don’t know why I just told her to lock up, as if she hadn’t been doing that all along. Asher and I step into the chilly air and I can’t help my shivers. The place is getting too cold for my liking and this might be the only thing I missed about Queensbury. There was never any snow, mostly sun, and a little rain. We walk the short distance to MacDonald’s. It makes no sense we drive, because it is a one-way street and we would have to go all the way around just to get back to it.

The interior was whisper-quiet, buttery leather and chrome. The driver pulled away smoothly. Not a glance. Not a sound. Zoe leaned against her side. "Is this man a robot?" "Probably." The city blurred past outside-buildings they didn't belong to, shops they couldn't afford, people in wool coats talking into Bluetooth headsets like their voices mattered more than anyone else's. The world of glass and steel had never felt farther from the one Anya had built around bedtime stories and secondhand books and Saturday night laundry. When the car turned onto Fifth Avenue and stopped in front of the Volkov building, Anya's mouth went dry.

(A/N: Hello, guys. I genuinely apologise for not updating for a long time. I'm so sorry, but I'm back now to writing. I hope you guys will pick up this book again and give it a chance). Muah. ~Kael~ (I realise I mistakenly change Crescent's name to Olivia. I corrected that in this chapter). I just arrived at my territory, and Rhett is the first thing that comes to my mind. I want to see him, for no particular reason. Not one I've explored or ever opened my mind to. But deep down, it exists. It craves to see him.

Street lights illuminated Forsythe Avenue sidewalks, casting long, elongated shadows. Forsythe Avenue was empty now. Adrian's words reverberated in his head. It was nearly impossible that he was being exposed, yet some part of him screamed otherwise. As though the shadows were condemning him. Kelvin prepared himself as he gazed on the view before him, to ascend the stairs to No. 52.

The car finally came to a stop after making about ten twists and turns, sometimes going the wrong way down the now-empty New York streets and coming to a stop on Fifth Avenue in front of an old mansion that I didn't even know existed. What I know about this place is that it's old money, the kind of money most people could only dream of, and the kind of bloodlines that go back generations. "Where are we? Whose place is this?" I asked Travis, another one of Lyon's men who had been in my home back in L.A. with Cord and a few others who I was never introduced to.

The red case file opened by itself. English spilled into the air. Not translated. Spoken in the voice of a girl trying not to cry. Please, if any court still works, my brother is knocking from inside the freeway wall. Ava went very still. The next trouble came through the side door, where bad news usually entered. In the First Gate, symbols had weight. It stained sleeves, cracked floors, moved through crowds, and made ordinary people choose sides before they understood the question. The freeway dust pressed against every window while paper wings marked the next turn of the case. Nothing about the Final Gate War felt clean. It felt like another emergency arriving before the last one had been