Novels by Elysian Sparrow

~~Julie~~ The pain started several hours ago. At first, it was manageable—a dull ache radiating through my lower abdomen. It felt like my body was whispering its warnings. But now, hours later, it’s no whisper. It’s a full-blown scream. Sharp, relentless waves of pain grip me, tightening like a vice around my insides. I’ve been timing the contractions, because the last time this happened, Dr. Casey Patel had sent me home with enough instructions on how to detect real labor. If this isn’t labor, then God help me, because it feels like this baby is about to crawl up my spine and burst out of my chest. I clutch the bannister with one hand and my lower abdomen with the other, pausing halfway down the stairs to catch my breath. Every step feels like a test of endurance, like I’m descending a mountain instead of my own staircase. “Paula!” I shout, hoping the cook will come running. But it isn’t Paula who appears. Instead, Javier rolls into view at the bottom of the stairs, his expressio

~~Julie~~I have to say this: Luke’s family knows how to party. It’s like everyone’s high and energetic. Even the children aren’t left out. It’s one thing to practice a dance, and it’s another to actually use those moves. I’m stumbling, but I don’t care. Because I’m happy. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I can’t keep track of the number of people I’ve danced with. I’ve lost Luke for the hundredth time tonight. The last time I saw him, he was being dragged into a conga line by his mother, who seemed to have the stamina of a teenager. Somewhere between the flashing lights and the sea of bodies spinning and stomping, he’d disappeared again.I stumble slightly in my heels, though at this point they feel more like medieval torture devices. My silver dress—once sleek and elegant—is now sticking to me like a second skin, the fabric damp with sweat from almost an hour of dancing. I brush confetti out of my hair. It’s everywhere—on my shoulders, even stuck to the perspiration on my arms.A

It’s our first dance as a couple, and Julie’s arms are draped around my neck, her warmth melting into mine as we sway to the soft rhythm of the music. Her dress catches the golden glow of the chandeliers, shimmering like something out of a dream. But it’s not the dress or the lights that have me mesmerized—it’s her.Her cheeks are flushed, a shade of pink that makes my heart stutter, and her eyes, those deep, captivating pools, glisten with unshed tears. I open my mouth to say something, anything, but all I can manage is, “You’re beautiful.”Julie’s blush deepens, and she looks away for a moment before meeting my gaze again. “You’ve already said that. Twice.”“Because it’s true.”Around us, everyone is watching.Julie bites her lip, a nervous gesture that only makes her more endearing. “It’s strange, isn’t it? Feeling this… shy?”I chuckle. “Like teenagers on a first date.”“Exactly. The entire room is watching, and I don’t know where to look.”“You’re doing great so far,” I say. “Jus

~~Luke~~I don’t know if it’s appropriate for the groom to cry on his wedding day, but right now, it’s taking my entire self-control not to sob. My throat feels tight, my chest is heavy, and every muscle in my face is fighting. Screw it—who made that rule anyway?Julie is walking toward me. Julie. My Julie. And it feels like the first time all over again—the day I saw her sitting on that barstool, drowning her sorrows in a glass of whiskey. I hadn’t planned to approach her. I was headed toward the fire exit, escaping someone whose face I can’t remember now. But then I saw her, and something in me shifted.Now, here she is, making her way down the aisle, radiant in a dress that looks like it was sewn from clouds and moonlight. My breath catches in my throat, and I wonder if it’s possible to actually combust from sheer awe.Her maid of honor walks beside her, clutching her arm with a steadying hand, but Julie doesn’t need it. She’s poised, her eyes locked on mine.“You’re far gone, man,

~~Julie~~People say all brides are late to their weddings. It’s practically a tradition, isn’t it? But me? I was not going to be one of those brides. I had a plan. I gave myself a generous window—ten, maybe fifteen minutes tops—because, really, what could possibly make me late?The answer, apparently, is everything. Here I am, forty minutes behind schedule, crammed in the backseat of a car with Marissa, my maid of honor, wrestling with my veil like it’s some kind of unruly octopus.“Hold still,” Marissa says, her fingers tangled in the fabric. “You keep moving, and this thing’s going to look like a bird nested in your hair.”“I wouldn’t be moving if we weren’t speeding down the road like we’re in a car chase,” I shoot back, my head jerking as the driver swerves to avoid another car.The blame? It falls squarely on last night’s rehearsal dinner. It felt like the entire world showed up. Luke’s family alone must have taken up half the venue, and their energy? Boundless. How do they eve

~~Ryan O’Brien~~ It’s fifteen minutes before the pre-trial, and Ryan’s car pulls into the courthouse. As Justin, his chauffeur and bodyguard, cuts the ignition, Ryan stares through the tinted window at the swarm of reporters and onlookers gathered outside like vultures, cameras poised for the kill. He can practically hear the click of shutters, the incessant questions ready to pounce, though he hasn’t even stepped out yet. Adeline is beside him, looking as bored as ever. Adeline taps her manicured nails against the leather armrest. She looks as though she’d rather be anywhere else, though Ryan knows better. His mother thrives on drama, especially when she’s not the one under fire. “How long is this circus going to take?” she says. “You didn’t have to come.” Ryan loosens his tie, the knot around his neck nothing compared to the one in his chest. Adeline shrugs. “I had nothing better to do. Besides, someone has to ensure you don’t embarrass the family name more than you already hav

I nod, my throat tight. “You better be.” The doors to the delivery room swing open, and suddenly, I’m surrounded by bright lights, the sterile smell of antiseptic, and the calm, authoritative voices of nurses. My mind is racing. My body, however, is focused on one thing: the relentless, excruciating contractions that feel like my insides are being wrung out like a soaked towel. “Breathe, Desiree. You’ve got this,” a nurse says, guiding me onto the bed. Caspian bursts through the door moments later, his hair disheveled, his suit jacket gone, and his sleeves rolled up. He looks like a man ready for battle. And, honestly, that’s what this feels like. “I’m here,” he says, taking my hand again. His grip is warm, solid, a lifeline in this sea of chaos. I glare at him through the pain. “You did this to me.” He leans down, brushing a kiss against my sweaty forehead. “I know, baby. And you’re doing amazing.” “Amazing? I feel like I’m being ripped in half!” I shout, my voice cracking wit

~~Months later~~ My best friend, Jessica, decided to organise a baby shower for me. She rented a penthouse. I know Caspian's involved in this. Who else is paying for the penthouse? The penthouse is everything Jessica promised and more—sleek marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows with a panoramic view of the city, and enough floral arrangements to make a florist weep. There’s an extravagant dessert table with a towering cake. And, of course, the unmistakable Caspian touch—a champagne fountain. I take it all in, my eyes narrowing suspiciously as I glance at Jessica, who’s currently trying to pass off the event as “modest.” Modest my ass. “You’re sure this wasn’t Caspian’s idea?” Jessica flashes her most innocent smile, which is about as believable as a politician’s promise. “I mean, he may have helped. But you deserve this! Come on, Dee, when was the last time we celebrated you?” I snort, adjusting the sash draped across my belly that reads Mom-to-Be. “You mean besides the

Desiree's POVWe're at a press conference.Cameras flash like lights at a club, and the buzz of reporters fills the air like a swarm of relentless bees. I hate it. Every second of it. But I stand tall, my hand resting in Caspian’s, my knuckles white from the grip. He doesn’t seem fazed—his jaw set, his eyes gleaming. He’s in his element.Me? I’m a bundle of nerves hiding behind a tailored dress and a painted-on smile.The tension in the room is obvious. Every gaze is pinned on us, every microphone is pointed in our direction. There’s no escaping it.Caspian steps forward, adjusting the microphone. His presence is magnetic. Commanding. He could announce the end of the world, and people would believe it was for their own good.He clears his throat, and the room falls silent.“For weeks now, CypherEdge Dynamics has been under siege,” he begins. “An individual named Mabel Blackwood infiltrated our company. She blackmailed board members, manipulated shareholders, and attempted to undermine

“Mr. Hart,” Aaron’s voice oozes through the line, smug and infuriating. “I trust you’ve been thinking about my offer.”“More like thinking about how to kill you,” I mutter under my breath, then louder: “I’ve considered it. But I need proof Desiree is alive. Now.”A pause. Then, Desiree’s voice, faint but there. “Caspian, please…”It takes everything in me not to lose it. “I’m here, Desiree. Hold on.”Aaron returns. “Satisfied?”“Barely,” I say. “You’ll get what you want. But not a second before I see her safe.”“Fine,” Aaron agrees. “Bring the drives to the location we’ll send you. Alone. And no tricks, Hart. Or she dies.”The line goes dead.Antonio is already moving, giving quick commands into his headset. “They’ll never see us coming,” he promises.I grip the phone. “They’d better not.”Because if they do, I’ll burn the entire city down before I let them take her away from me.---I park a block away from the designated warehouse, my pulse thudding in my ears. I sit there for a mom

The tone sends a chill down my spine. Calm, too calm, like this is a business deal and not—“Where is she?” I say. “If you’ve touched her—”“Tsk, tsk,” the man interrupts, almost amused. “Let’s not start with threats. You’re not in a position to make them.”I grip the phone tighter, my knuckles white. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”“Don’t I? Your reputation precedes you, Mr. Hart. Ruthless. Powerful. But none of that matters here.”My free hand balls into a fist at my side. “What do you want?”Finally, he gets to the point. “You’re going to deliver something to me. Two things, actually. First, the drives you took from Mabel’s mother’s house.”My mind races. How does he know about those?“And second,” he continues, “your shares in the company. Sign them over. All of them.”I laugh, sharp and humorless. “You think I’ll just hand those over? Do you know what they’re worth?”“Oh, I know exactly what they’re worth.” His voice drops. “I also know what she’s worth to you.”The a

Caspian's POVIt’s been over two hours since Desiree disappeared, and the hospital has called the police against my wishes.I’m pacing the waiting room like a caged animal, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead doing nothing to quell the pounding in my skull. Every passing second feels like an eternity, a loud and unrelenting reminder that she’s not here, that I don’t know where she is, that I failed to protect her.“Mr. Hart,” one of the officers starts, her voice too calm, too measured, like she’s asking about a lost cat. “Let’s go over this again. You’re sure your wife didn’t… leave voluntarily?”My fist clenches so hard my knuckles crack. I whip around, staring at her like she’s grown a second head.“Voluntarily?” The word leaves my mouth dripping with venom. “You think she just decided to disappear in the middle of a goddamn ultrasound?”The other officer, a man with a face so nondescript I could forget it in seconds, clears his throat. “We’re just trying to establish all possi