Novels by Victoy Richman

A Dance of Desire and Domination**.Karen, back in the lavish, sterile comfort of the diplomatic compound near the plant site, received Lara’s frantic, fragmented report with cold fury.“He stopped?” Karen hissed, pacing the floor as Lara recounted the moment in the motel room. “He physically stopped the act, because he felt Rachna watching him? That woman controls him more completely than I thought.”Lara sat exhausted, still reeling from the intimate rejection. “He was genuinely terrified, Karen. He said the word, but I couldn’t hear it over the truck. It was a failure of nerve, not of desire. The loyalty is too ingrained.”“Then we stop playing for his loyalty and start playing for his survival,” Karen decided, a ruthless glint in her eye. She looked down at the image of Lara in the black lace lingerie—a physical representation of the failure. “Subtlety is dead. We

Unravelling Secrets in the Web of Betrayal.The air in the Nagpur guesthouse hung heavy with a strained silence, thick with the unaddressed tension of Savita’s prolonged absence. Minister Savita, Vinod, and Rubi had been incommunicado for days, enveloped in the strategic silence of the Brazilian jungle and the luxury of Lloyd’s private estate, leaving the Indian core of the dynasty—Rachna, Suman, and Rahul—to hold the fort. This vacuum of central authority was exactly the oxygen Karen and her compromised American team needed to breathe life back into their own desperate agenda.Karen, restless and demanding, paced the length of her temporary suite, overlooking the nascent green belt of the plant site. Her team—Lara, Nina, and Carlos—sat in a tense, silent huddle, waiting for her next move. Roberts’s defection to Suman was a known, raw wound, but the true threat was the silent expansion of Savita's dynasty into

On Fazenda Águia, the Brazilian night was thick and warm. Rubi and Lloyd had returned to the cabana after a late, intimate dinner. Lloyd, believing he had completely charmed and possessed Rachna’s assets, was relaxed and dangerously vulnerable.They were talking in soft, lazy murmurs, the kind of conversation that only happens after the final glass of a truly fine vintage. Lloyd, reclining on the velvet sofa, basked in the golden glow of the firelight and his own ambition, his voice a low, confident rumble as he boasted of the assured future of his political career. He spoke of polls, influential friends, and the inevitable power shift that would place him at the centre of it all. Rubi, draped elegantly across the armrest, offered seductive, encouraging banter. Her voice was a warm, melodic counterpoint, perfectly pitched to stroke his ego and deepen the moment's intimacy. The conversation flowed like the vintage port they had been savouring—rich, warm, and

Love and Power in the Heart of Rio.Two thousand miles away in Rio, Minister Savita and Vinod indulged in the city’s hospitality, allowing themselves a day of unscripted freedom. They were staying in the historic Copacabana Palace, their suite a beacon of cool elegance overlooking the famous crescent beach. The success of Rubi’s intelligence mission—confirmed via a quick, encrypted check-in—had given them a profound sense of security and exhilaration.“Lloyd is completely distracted,” Vinod reported, closing his secure phone after the first check-in with Rubi, who had sent a single, coded message: Polka Dots Secured. The King is Blind.Savita, who had been studying the skyline, turned, her expression radiant. “Excellent. Then today, the Rachna is off duty.”For the first time since their arrival, Savita decided to move as a free woman. She shed her diplomatic attire for a simple, stunning wh

A Dance of Power and Seduction in the Heart of Brazil.Lloyd’s private farmhouse, Fazenda Águia, was a spectacle of discreet, ruthless wealth. Nestled deep within the state of São Paulo, it was surrounded by acres of shimmering green sugarcane fields that stretched to the horizon, interrupted only by a perfectly groomed, mile-long private airstrip and a vast, modernist house built entirely of local stone and glass. The noise and opulence of Rio were replaced by a profound, almost intimidating silence.Lloyd landed his luxury plane—a custom-painted jet with the Brazilian flag subtly incorporated into the tail—with the practised ease of a man who commanded more than just ministries. The plane was another prop in his theatrical display of power, and Rubi, stepping onto the sun-drenched tarmac, offered exactly the reaction he craved: wide-eyed, yet composed admiration.“This is where I truly rule, Rubi,” L

Helming Trust and Betrayal in the Heart of Rio.Rubi left Lloyd’s penthouse suite in Rio de Janeiro as the city was waking, the ruby-red silk gown restored to its perfect, strategic precision. She carried the coordinates of the Iguazu Trust like a silent, invaluable weapon, secured not by force but by the currency of intense, shared vulnerability. Her exit was smooth, the very picture of a woman reluctantly leaving the arms of a masterful lover. Lloyd, complacent in the triumph of his perceived conquest, had barely stirred, merely murmuring a possessive command for her return. The actress had secured the first act, but Rachna’s mandate—to keep Lloyd distracted and completely committed until Rachna could execute the counter-strike—demanded a spectacular second act.When Rubi returned to the Presidential Suite at the Copacabana Palace, Savita and Vinod were waiting, bathed in the soft morning light reflecting off the Atlantic. Sav

Maybe the storm was just a blessing, a sign of fate giving them a chance to work things out. Perhaps the universe finally agreed with her because she had never had a more evident sign. They had talked, and it had been a lot of talking. They considered all possibilities, positive and negative, and they decided what was best for them was to get back together despite all odds. She always saw many things, but when it came to herself, it was always unclear, just like her situation and the moment, but she vowed she would live her best life with those who mattered to her, no matter how short. The Yadav home knew she was safe, and she had sent a message informing them she was with Zayn and would be back once the storm was over, although that wasn't looking promising again. It was everything she wanted; for once, her thoughts and vision were clear. She saw peace and solitude, for her soul was at rest. Each time her mind diverted to Zayn Vendant, she saw a hint of darkness, sometimes blur. She

Everyone in town was shopping for the next three days and rushing home to avoid getting caught up in the storm predicted by the weather forecasters. It was expected to hit in four hours and last for three days. It was a big-time rush, but Zayn wasn't a part of it. He needed to get things cleared up with Isha. Myra was gone, and that was a good thing. He just needed to see her, and despite the advice from his closest friends, he couldn't wait for the storm out without her. He wasn't sure he would make it without her.He was informed that she was out when he got to the Yadav household. It was her day off, and she had gone out, as usual. Only some people knew where. He called her several times, and she didn't pick up. He was a confused man in Delhi.He drove back to the Yadav household and met with one of the helpers."You should go home; this storm will be here anytime." She said, picking different saree colours from the cloth line where they had been left to dry. She looked bored and ju

They caught her in the most vulnerable state. With the ninety-nine issues going on with Zayn, she didn’t expect another one on her desk, so as she realised she had been set up, she just gave up. There was no fight; she was wise enough to know that it was either the 78-carat crown or her life, and for such huge some, her attackers wouldn’t have to hold a conference to decide to kill her, so she just let them take everything that had meant the world to her.The memory stayed with her, and she remembered it as fresh as if it were happening now. She and her crew had been going to the Triumph Hall on East Lane for the Oscars ceremony. When asked to bring her crown, she knew it was a bad idea. Of course, she acknowledged that it was such a huge event that all eyes were on her. For it to be hosted in India, it would be a shame if she couldn’t witness it. In the same way, it would be disrespectful to her country for her to show up without her identity, the crown. Near home, she and Vivi sat b

It had been four days since her encounter with Myra, and Isha couldn't deny that she felt like the most stupid person on the planet. The funny part was she knew she had no right to be angry like the guy was in a relationship with someone else. Officially, he belonged to Myra, but then she couldn't get the picture of him being in bed with her. It disturbed her in ways she didn't expect.Her hurt was too much. It nearly crushed her, but she needed to keep moving, which she did. She stopped picking up his calls and just avoided him generally. She tried looking at the good side, like him not dying, which was good, right?As usual, the Yadavs had a get-together dinner, and it was something they frequently did, something to boost their political involvement and expand their territory. Today, she was to serve, and she tried as much as she could to keep calm when she saw Zayn seated among the VIPs. Of course, he had been invited; he was considered one of the most influential people in the coun

The plan was to go unnoticed and so she did just that. Myra was in joggers and a sports bra, with dark glasses to hide her identity. Her hair was tied in a small ponytail that bounced as she walked into the gym. She glanced around for a while and then saw Isha at the corner working the treadmill. She walked up to the receptionist and flashed a smile.“A month, please. What’s the cost?” she asked.“Rs 1000” the receptionist replied. “Name please.” She asked as she received cash from Myra and began filling out the registration form on the system.“Abitha Solan” she lied.Things had gone down with Zayn; she had recognized the name as soon as Zayn mentioned it, who could easily forget the girl at the engagement party? Zayn didn’t have an answer to the question she asked that night and he was a terrible liar so she immediately interpreted what was going on, and she wasn’t wrong. He had sat there all night while she went into the room and man had she cried, she was hurt and didn’t think she

Uptown Delhi was the most beautiful place in India, and as they held hands, taking photos, she could see all the possibilities she had always dreamed of coming to pass. They got to a serendipity restaurant called the unicorn sundae and were back in the streets, diverting into the little tracks leading to the lake.To both their surprise and satisfaction, the lake was empty. The water was a runoff of the downfall at the end of the city, and they knew it was safe. The government kept it clean.“Hold on!” Zayn shouted as he raced behind her, struggling to get through the shrubs that lay around.Isha giggled. “Keep up, CEO.” She yelled in return. As she got to the edge of the stream, she took off her oversized polo shirt, which was his actually, and the shorts she wore joined it. She did a twirl in her optional cloth state just before his arrival.He joined her, pulling away from his dress and walking to meet her. His hands circled her waist, and he pushed her to himself. She felt him hard