Novels by Esiito

Years passed, and the seasons turned like the pages of a beloved book, each one rich with memories and laughter. Cole and I settled into married life, our days woven together with the threads of love, adventure, and shared dreams. Our home, a cozy little haven infused with art and creativity, became a reflection of our journey. Colorful paintings adorned the walls—each one telling a unique story, a snapshot of our life together. The studio where I once painted alone transformed into a shared space, bursting with the vibrant chaos of collaboration. We often spent evenings sketching ideas, laughing, and talking about everything and nothing at all, often with the scent of freshly brewed coffee hanging in the air. Our relationship, like my art, blossomed even further. We learned the beauty of patience, the power of communication, and the art of compromise. We traveled to different corners of the world—each trip an adventure filled with new sigh

[Lucy] As I met Cole at our favorite café—the place where we had spent countless hours imagining our futures—a familiar warmth enveloped us. The sunlight filtered through the café windows, casting golden rays that danced across the wooden table where we now sat, both buzzing with our achievements and exciting developments in our lives. “Can you believe how far we’ve come?” Cole mused, meeting my gaze with that softness that had become an anchor in my life. “I know,” I replied, my voice thick with emotion. “It feels surreal, and yet, it feels like the most natural progression. We’ve both chased our dreams, and look where we are now!” Cole smiled, an expression filled with admiration and quiet pride for me. “You’re incredible, Lucy. Your work is inspiring countless artists and creators. You’re leaving your mark on the world, and I couldn’t be prouder of you.” My heart fluttered at

[Lucy] Years had flown by in a blur of colors and creativity, each moment brimming with inspiration and growth. I had thrived in art school, where the seeds of my passions had blossomed into a vibrant career. My dream of becoming a known figure in the art industry had materialized, and the sketches I once created in solitude transformed into gallery exhibits that sparked conversations and ignited imaginations. From my early days of uncertainty to becoming a recognized artist, my journey had taken me through bustling art fairs, collaborative installations, and personal showcases that highlighted not just my work, but also the stories and emotions behind each piece. Through hard work and dedication, I had gained a voice in a world that valued art's power to connect us and open our minds to new perspectives. But amidst the whirlwind of my success, the familiar tug of home had grown stronger, and now, after years of living

[Lucy] With summer stretching out before me like a blank canvas, a renewed sense of purpose settled into my heart. The initial apprehension about moving so far from home faded away, replaced by a burgeoning excitement for what lay ahead. I had a chance to immerse myself in the world of art, to learn, grow, and discover parts of myself I’d never encountered before. As the days passed, I dove into preparations for my new journey. Packing was a labor of love; I selected pieces of my life that felt right to take along—my favorite sketchbooks, a few beloved novels, and a collection of photographs filled with memories of laughter, friendship, and love. Each item became a reminder of where I had come from and the bonds I intended to keep strong despite the distance that would soon separate me from my childhood home. Meanwhile, Cole continued to be my unwavering support. Every day after school, we would meet at the park, basking

[Lucy] The day of the final exams arrived, casting an air of excitement and anticipation over the entire school. It felt like the sun itself was celebrating, flooding the campus with golden rays that amplified the laughter and chatter among students. As Cole, Tamara, and I emerged from the school's main entrance, our faces beamed with joy, the last remnants of stress slipping away like morning mist. "I can't believe it's finally over!" I exclaimed, my heart racing with the liberation that came after weeks of studying and worrying. I tossed my books into my bag with an exuberance that felt almost like flying. "Best. Day. Ever!" Tamara squealed, her curls bouncing as she jumped up and down in her excitement. "I feel like we can do anything now!" Cole chuckled, his arm draped casually around my shoulders, anchoring me to solid ground amidst the swirling energy of jubilation. "I can't believe we survived, hones

[Lucy] The plan to take down Viktor wasn't straightforward. It required precision, patience, and a level of coordination that pushed our makeshift family to its limits. Tamara' and Kevin's digital investigation uncovered a complex web of connections. Corrupt cops, underground money laundering, trafficking networks—Viktor's operation was more than just a simple criminal enterprise. It was a hydra, with multiple heads that needed simultaneous attack. "We can't just go to the authorities," Tamara explained, spreading digital files across her laptop. "Half of them are on Viktor's payroll." Cole, still recovering but increasingly restless, became the strategist. His background—something he rarely discussed—proved invaluable. "We need to hit their financial infrastructure," he said, studying the maps and connection diagrams Tamara had created. I guess there's still a lot I don't know about Cole and Tamara.

"Ughh," I moaned, settling on the sofa with a heavy thud. Going to the station today didn't really answer much of my questions, instead, it might have added new ones to the batch.Talking to the Chief Officer was also a waste of time, because as Officer Trent had earlier stated, he was oddly pumped about it and didn't really give much insight.I did manage to sneak a peek at the pictures left by the forensic team, and by sneak a peek, I meant taken without authorization. As office Trent rightly said, her head was gnashed, like something that was roughly smashed against a glass or something.I silently scrutinized the picture of leather girl – the model – Diana. Was Dom really capable of doing such? I knew he had violent tantrums and tendencies, but this was just too much. Who the hell had he pissed off to land himself in this type of situation? Would she be the only one killed, or was she a promise of more deaths to come? Am I next on that list?Ughhh. So many unanswered questions. I

I didn't know what to do.My boyfriend– scratch that, ex-boyfriend is in police custody for killing his supposed new girlfriend???Does it mean that if I had stayed longer, that could have been me on the screen, dead and lifeless.I shuddered."Damn. This shit is messed up," Zack cursed.I sprang to my feet, "I need to go see him Zack," I said and tried to move.He stood instantly, dragging my hands. "Are you out of your mind?! Dude's in police custody on account of murder and you WANT to see him??" He yelled and let go of me. "What if that had been you, huh? You want to go see him! Please tell me you're joking..."I didn't speak for some seconds. We were both breathing heavily and our chest rising and falling rapidly. "I'm not joking. I need to make sure he's okay. I- I-- I--" I blubbered as tears rolled down my eyes. "He doesn't have anyone to look after him, Zack." I wept and his face softened.He took a step closer to me and held my gaze. "But that's not your problem anymore reme

It's been two weeks since I left Dom. A week of pure sleuth as I sneakily checked my phone for texts, voicemails, missed calls, anything. I haven't heard a word from him.I told myself I wasn't waiting for him but it was all lies. I feel like maybe a part of me wants him to try and reach out, just to show some kind of emotion, but nothing happened. He really isn't one to show how he feels, he likes to bottle them inside.I sighed as I leaned on the couch, blanket still around me, switching on the television. I swiped to the Netflix station deciding to watch an animation to pass time. I chose Red Panda as it's been out for sometime and has also been on my watchlist.What better time to get lost in cartoons than after a heartbreak, right?I shrugged the blanket off my shoulders and made a move to the kitchen to get a tub of strawberry ice cream and a spoon. I come back and situate myself, legs tucked in and play the movie.I watched till the part where Mei-lei and four towns started to

Love is a game– not the inside or interior kind like: chess, checkers or minesweeper, no, it's the exterior, outdoorsy one like: football, soccer, and tennis. It is also like a door. You never know what you're getting into as you open the door, you never know what's on the other side. That's what love is. I watched Zack as he answered his mother's call and I envied him. He tried to sound tough and annoyed, but the love was heard in his voice, the way his body moved, and the way his eyes softened. Looking at him you could tell that he loves his mum, even with the occasional eye roll.A sad smile came to my face as I turned from him and blinked rapidly to stop the tear that wanted to flow.This was the feeling I've always wanted: to be loved, to be held close, to have someone to complain to, and to be spoken softly to.I remember little from when my parents were still alive, mostly from my mum, what and how it felt to love. She showcased it each day as she took care of our small potted

RIA'S POV We stared at each other aggressively till the waitress dropped our breakfast on the table, making us break contact. I looked at the take and momentarily forgot about ‘Dom the dick’, and his stupid face. The only thing on my mind was the scent that invaded my senses. I bent low and took a long whiff of all the gooey goodness and sighed happily.It really shouldn't be called breakfast but rather get-fat, because after eating all these you're seriously bound to “get fat!” Lol..."Come on, eat up!" He clasped his hands together and gave a disapproving grunt as he looked me over. "We're gonna get you fat again," he grinned.I laughed and received a perplexed look in return. Seems like we have the same thoughts exactly.I took my fork and gently stabbed a piece of pancake and moaned as I slowly chewed, closing my eyes and savouring the taste."God, this tastes amazing," I said amist bites. I opened my eyes and took a piece of egg omelette and almost died in pleasure. I then made

Watching her leave was the hardest thing I've ever done in the twenty five years of my fucking life. I didn't want to let her go, but I had no choice, mum said she would disown me if I didn't get rid of her. Ria! God, what have I done. I sat on the chair and rubbed my hand through my face, as my thoughts surfaced.I just chased away the best thing that has ever happened to me. I am such an idiot! I need to go get her back, I can't live without her, I–My thoughts were caught off from the blaring of my ringtone. I looked at the screen and groaned. "Mum," I said as I answered."Have you gotten rid of that trash?" She asked skipping any introductory greetings. I ground my teeth when she referred to Ria as trash."She isn't trash mum," I defended. "I... I love-" she cut me off with a scoff."What? You love her?" She asked and I hinted distaste with her words."I do mum," I agreed. "She is–was– the best thing that has ever happened to me." I can't lose her, no, I won't lose her. I am going

ROSASix months later...The visiting room at the federal prison wasn't where I'd imagined having Sunday dinner with my father, but we'd made it our tradition. I watched him enter, looking healthier than he had during the trial. Prison might have taken his freedom, but it had also lifted a weight from his shoulders."You look good, papá," I said, embracing him."And you look successful," he smiled, noting my tailored suit. "How's the company?""Profitable. Legally." I emphasized the last word with a small smile. "We've expanded the shipping business into Europe. Clean cargo only.""And Marco? He's treating you right?"I twisted the elegant engagement ring on my finger. "He is. Though he's still adjusting to working security for our legitimate operations instead of investigating them."Dad chuckled. "From FBI agent to private security—quite a career change.""Love makes us do crazy things," I said, watching his face carefully. "Like a crime boss working with the feds to protect his dau

ROSAThe federal courthouse loomed before me, its stone facade as cold as the morning air. Today would determine everything—my father's fate, the future of our family, and whatever remained between Marco and me.I smoothed down my black blazer and walked up the steps, photographers shouting questions I ignored. Inside, Marco waited by the security checkpoint."You don't have to be here for this," he said softly."Yes, I do." I met his eyes. "You made your choice yesterday. Now I need to make mine."The courtroom was packed when we entered. Daniel and his father sat with their lawyers on one side, my father on the other. The sight of him in prison orange made my heart ache.As I took my seat in the front row, Daniel turned and gave me a smile that sent chills down my spine."All rise," the bailiff called.The proceedings began with the prosecution outlining their case. I listened as they detailed the criminal empire my father had built, the smuggling operations, the money laundering. B

ROSAThree days after the arrests, I sat in dad's office—my office now—reviewing the damage. Our legitimate businesses were in chaos, employees were panicking, and the Colombians were demanding answers. But I refused to let my father's empire crumble.A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. "Come in."Marco entered, wearing a suit that somehow looked different now that I knew what he really was. More federal agent, less consigliere."The FBI is preparing to move against the Colombian connection," he said without preamble. "I thought you should know.""Sit down, Agent Rossi." I gestured to the chair across from me, enjoying how he winced at the formal title. "We need to talk.""Rosa—""No. You've done enough talking. Now you're going to listen." I laid out a stack of folders. "These contain evidence of every illegal operation the Carusos were running without our knowledge. Human trafficking, drugs, weapons—all of it. My father may not be innocent, but he wasn't involved in their w

ROSAMy hands trembled as I held the police badge I'd found hidden in Marco's room. Detective Marco Rossi, Chicago PD, Organized Crime Division. The morning light caught the gold shield, making it gleam accusingly.I'd snuck into his room at dawn, determined to find proof of what I'd overheard last night. The badge wasn't hidden as carefully as it should have been—almost as if he'd wanted me to find it.A commotion from downstairs interrupted my thoughts. Angry voices echoed through the halls—I recognized Daniel's father, Vinny, among them.Clutching the badge, I crept to the top of the stairs."You've got some nerve, Castillo!" Vinny's voice boomed. "Trying to cut us out of the Colombian route?""What are you talking about?" My father's voice was cold, controlled."Don't play dumb. Our contact at the port told us everything. You're redirecting shipments through a new channel—cutting our profit margin in half!"I peered around the corner. Dad stood behind his desk, Marco and several g

ROSA The wedding invitations lay scattered across my desk, their gold lettering mocking me. Two weeks. That's all the time I had left to figure out what was really going on in my family's business—and with Marco. I'd been going through dad's old financial records, trying to make sense of the shipping routes Marco had been so interested in. At first glance, everything seemed normal, but there was something off about the numbers. The manifests showed regular shipments to Colombia, but the profit margins were impossibly high for what was supposed to be simple import/export business. A knock on my door made me quickly hide the papers. "Come in!" Daniel strode in, already talking about wedding details. "Baby, I've been thinking. We should move the ceremony up a week. My father insists—" "What? No! There's already so much to do and—" "It wasn't a question," his voice turned hard, nothing like his usual cheerful tone. His eyes, usually warm brown, had turned cold. "My father want

ROSAI couldn't sleep last night after our conversation about the engagement. Marco's words kept echoing in my head: "You can't call off the engagement, Rosa." There was something in his tone—not just concern, but urgency. Like he was protecting something bigger than just our relationship.I found him in dad's study early the next morning, his head bent over some paperwork. The morning light streaming through the window caught his profile, and for a moment, I forgot my suspicions. The sight of him in his fitted suit, completely at home among my father's business documents, made my stomach twist. How had he adapted so perfectly to this world? Then his phone buzzed, breaking the spell."We need to talk," I said, closing the door behind me.He glanced up, his expression carefully neutral. "Rosa, this isn't a good time.""When is it ever?" I moved closer to his desk. "You keep giving me mixed signals. One minute you're kissing me in the garden, the next you're telling me I have to marry