Under One Roof By Gregor Novels & Stories

One childhood crush. One unbreakable rule. One mansion where every hallway feels like a trap. For fifteen years, Leighton Hayes has loved Noah Knight from afar, the untouchable older brother of her best friend Chloe. Now twenty-three, broke, and freshly homeless, Leighton has nowhere to go but the sprawling estate of the man who once barely noticed her. Noah remembers her all too well. The billionaire who built an empire from nothing has spent the last six months trying to become a better man, and the shy girl in oversized hoodies who just moved into his guest wing is the most dangerous temptation he’s ever faced. Chloe’s single rule was always clear: her friends are off-limits. Especially to Noah, the reformed Playboy who used to burn through supermodels and headlines. But late nights, shared secrets, and one stolen shirt ignite a fire neither of them can extinguish. What begins as whispered confessions and almost-kisses explodes into a secret affair neither wants to end, even as the lies stack higher. When Chloe discovers the truth, the betrayal threatens to destroy the only family each of them has ever known. Leighton must decide if love is worth losing her best friend. Noah must prove he’s finally ready to risk everything for the one woman he swore he’d never touch. Some rules are made to be broken. Some hearts refuse to stay forbidden.

"I didn’t know I was marrying two people. He wore the suit, but she pulled the strings. The day I walked down the aisle, eyes locked with the man I loved, I thought I had found peace. I thought I was finally leaving behind the noise of my childhood, the ache of loneliness, and the years I spent praying for a love that would choose me, only me. But no one told me that some men never truly leave their mothers. They marry, yes,but their hearts remain tangled in an invisible umbilical cord, one that stretches past vows, past bedrooms, past boundaries. I moved into our new home, only to find that the walls had ears, hers. We lived in separate flats, but it never truly felt like my space. My marriage was a room she walked into, uninvited but ever present. Her opinions dripped into our arguments, her eyes followed me from behind lace curtains, and her voice echoed in decisions that should have belonged to me and my husband. At first, I kept quiet. I told myself it was cultural. Respect. Family. Then I told myself it was temporary. Then I stopped telling myself anything at all, because nothing I said made a difference. This is not a story of hate. It’s a story of love, tested by bloodlines, boundaries, and a battle I never asked to fight. This is my truth. The marriage I thought was mine. The home that never really felt like home. And the rules I never agreed to, but had to live by, simply because… I was under her roof".

Elara Moretti never dreamed her wedding would feel like a funeral. Given away by the only family she’s ever known, she’s forced into a cold, loveless marriage to Mateo Navarro—the feared heir to a powerful mafia empire. He’s everything she was taught to fear: ruthless, dominant, and utterly unbothered by the tears of a wife he never wanted. In the Navarro estate, silence is survival. So Elara learns to be silent. He humiliates her in front of his mistresses. She lowers her head. He uses her as a symbol of control. She pretends not to feel. But every day in Mateo’s home chips away at the girl Elara used to be. Elara may look fragile... but something inside her refuses to break. And while Mateo rules his world with an iron fist, he’s about to learn that not every pawn stays in place. Because the most dangerous kind of woman… is the one who learns to watch, wait, and never forget.

"Tell me you don’t feel the same way," Xavier murmured, his dark eyes locked on mine. "Tell me you don’t feel your heart racing every time you see me. Tell me you don’t think about me for hours, imagining things… imagining me touching you. Tell me you don’t feel jealous when you see me with another girl who isn’t you." He stepped closer, his lips curling into that infuriating smirk. "Tell me, Princess," he whispered. My throat went dry. My words stuttered. "I… I don’t feel anything for you," I barely managed. "You're such a terrible liar," he said, his grin darkening. ••• Everything changed the night my father died. Six months later, my mother’s whirlwind engagement brought me here — to his mansion, to his world, to him. Xavier Knight: arrogant, reckless and rebellious. The one person I shouldn’t want. The one person I can’t stop noticing. He’s not supposed to be mine. I’m not supposed to want him. And yet… every glance, every word, every heartbeat pulls me closer to danger.

She was desperate for money. He needed an heir. Their contract should've been simple. Carry the billionaire's baby. Follow the rules. Never fall in love. But living under the same roof as cold dangerous Killian Frost was never part of the plan. And neither was the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn't looking. Now secrets are unraveling. Lines are blurring and Aubrey realizes one terrifying truth. The billionaire who hired her may be the one to destroy her heart.

My husband, Daniel Thompson, looked down on me. I was just a farmer's daughter in his eyes, and he never loved the son I gave birth to. It wasn’t until our baby turned 100 days old that he held him for the first time. Then, one day, his first love, Claire Matthews, came back to the city. That night at dinner, Daniel, who was always cold and distant, finally smiled. He even reached across the table and placed a piece of meat on Noah’s plate. Noah beamed all evening, clutching onto that tiny gesture like it was a treasure. Just before bed, he whispered to me, "Mom, do you think he likes me now… even just a little?" I wrapped him in my arms, tears blurring my vision as I gently shook my head. "No, sweetheart. It’s because the woman he truly loves is back. It’s time for us to go."

Maxine Wards ran away from her home that made her lost in the city. Thank goodness cause there's one guy who saw her sleeping in the street. Harold Vans (the grandfather of five hot jerks) brought her to the Mansion and adopted her for temporary. And due to important matters, Harold Vans needed to fly abroad for some matters so that Maxine Wards left in hand with these FIVE HOT JERKS, named; Alyn Crawford, Louis Howard, Byron Wagner, Giles Christophe and Sid Grandier. What do you think would happen in her life along with these five hot jerks? Would she run away again to run from these jerks? Or she will continue her life and live in ONE ROOF WITH FIVE HOT JERKS?

Natalia and Andrei’s marriage was originally a three-year contract. With only 30 days left until the contract ends, Natalia discovered that she’s pregnant. Just when she thought Andrei would reconsider divorcing her because of this, his deceased first mate, Lilith, returned. Feeling hopeless, Natalia decided to initiate the divorce. However, at their engagement party, Andrei received the news of Natalia’s car accident, along with the shocking discovery of her pregnancy test results...

The Rowan estate has stood for centuries, its walls bearing witness to generations of triumph, tragedy, and a quiet, inescapable weight. Known for influence and misfortune, the Rowans guard a secret: the house is a memory vessel, absorbing the emotions and events of its inhabitants. Only one child per generation—“the one who carries it”—feels its imprint. For Jace Rowan, that child is him. Haunted by flashes of his brother Elias’s mysterious death in the sealed west wing, Jace lives with hallucination-like memories, déjà vu, and a physical sensitivity to the house’s presence. When Ava arrives at the estate, the house takes notice. Her father’s disappearance connects her unknowingly to the Rowans, and her grief fuels an emotional resonance the house cannot ignore. Objects from her past—her father’s watch, sketches of the west wing, and a brass key—materialize mysteriously before her, drawing Ava deeper into the estate’s labyrinth of memory. Jace knows the danger: the west wing reacts to emotion, and Ava’s connection could awaken truths meant to remain buried. As tension mounts, Ava and Jace confront both the house’s power and their own growing fears. The west wing does not seek to harm but to claim understanding—feeding on memory, fear, and revelation. In the shadows, a presence lingers, one that Jace fears is connected to Ava’s father. Bound by fear, curiosity, and an unspoken attraction, Ava and Jace must navigate a house that remembers, reacts, and judges, uncovering secrets about Elias’s death, Ava’s father, and the legacy of the Rowan family itself. In a world where emotion is power and the past is never truly gone, the house holds its breath—and waits to see who will survive its memory.

In a brutal all-male cadet academy where discipline is law and weakness is quietly erased, obedience is not requested—it is engineered. Elias enters the institution for survival. Debt, obligation, and limited options leave him with one rule: endure. He believes discipline is a tool, something external he can master and leave behind once his training is complete. He is wrong. The academy does not simply train bodies—it reshapes awareness. Silence becomes instruction. Proximity becomes pressure. Choice erodes long before it is ever questioned. Elias draws the attention of Instructor Vale, a senior authority figure whose control relies not on punishment, but on restraint. Vale does not command often. He observes. He waits. He allows Elias to adjust himself—until obedience feels voluntary and resistance feels unnatural. As training intensifies, Elias finds himself isolated, refined, and increasingly dependent on the presence that once unsettled him. The line between discipline and desire begins to blur, forcing him to confront a dangerous question: is he being controlled, or is he choosing alignment? In a system designed to strip autonomy while calling it order, Elias must decide whether obedience is something done to him—or something he is willing to claim. Under Orders is a slow-burn psychological MM novel exploring power, conditioning, and the unsettling intimacy of control—where submission is not demanded, but learned.