Novels by Kiya Kingsley

DarianaThe Monday drama that I have come to expect from the soap opera that is my life did not, unfortunately, end with the scene at the office. After Alec left my office, the rest of the work day was very quiet. Quiet enough to lull me into a false sense of security. As soon as I got home I was greeted by the familiar but still shocking sight of Barry sitting at my front door with his bags.“Run away again?” I say as I approach him. He looks up at me, seemingly offended by my choice to pathologise his repeated presence at my door. “I’m changing custody.” He says. “Dad’s busy, so I have to spend then next few days at mom’s.” He hands me an envelope. “That’s you by the way.” He says.“Yes, I think I got that.” I roll my eyes and yank the envelope from his hands. “You’re still refusing to just go home?” I ask, holding my door open for him to come in. “If I can avoid going back there for the rest of my life, I think I will.” He says. “Or at least until Cam grows a pair and moves ou

Alec I spent the rest of the afternoon anxiously waiting for five o’clock to arrive. In my relatively longe career I have dealt with many kinds of people. When you spend a portion of your time and fortune investing in many different types of projects, you’re bound to encounter an array of characters.I’ve met my share of “hard” business people, or at least those who tried their best to present themselves as intimidating; and some who genuinely were. But never have I ever walked into a negotiation with someone who would quite literally have no problem shooting me the moment I step outside the line I probably wouldn’t even know is there. I am so deep in my internal freak out that I don’t even pay attention when someone had opened my door and walked straight into my office without announcing themselves. Thinking that it is likely just Henry dropping off some files, I choose to pay the person no mind.I realise soon enough, though, that it is not Henry when the person in question walk

Alec“I’m happy to see that at least one of you has their heads screwed on right.” Moreno says as he picks up the phone. “I’ll send my men to fetch you at five pm so we can discuss details.”“How sure are you that I’m not just calling to tell you to fuck off?” I ask.I hear him laugh on the other line. “Because you are a good man, Mr Blackburn. And unfortunately that makes you useful to unscrupulous characters such as myself… and your brothers, I suppose.”Useful? Or usable?“But never mind that. Five pm. Be ready.” He says. And with that he cuts the call. It was just then, as I was putting down the phone, that Dominic walked into my office. “What was that about?” He asks“Nothing.” I wave him off. “It can’t be nothing, you look like someone shat in your lunch.” He teases me while leisurely plopping himself into a chair and putting his feet up on my desk like he owns it. “Maybe I’m upset because my partner is never where he’s supposed to be. Why is it that I always find myself hav

Dariana I manage to make it to Monday morning without knocking myself out in one way or another. Though I almost didn’t as a result of Emma’s bad influence. If she had it her way, I would have started the work week hungover. Luckily I am grown enough to know better than to get wine-drunk on a Sunday. Emma stuck around to keep me company for the rest of the day. Though I had to kick her out around seven pm lest Tom starts accusing me of monopolising his wife’s time. I did, thankfully, manage to swear her to secrecy concerning the whole ‘Alec is married’ ordeal. Not only is this something I feel some shame for, but I don’t actually know what the situation is. And I do not want this getting to more people that could a) potentially judge me more than they already do and b) know something about Alec that he clearly doesn’t want them to know. I will only do him that much. I’d consider that a little parting gift, it would be my closure. It is for the best. I manage to get through

Dariana** Sunday Morning **I try to force myself to stay asleep, despite my exhaustion having run out a long time ago. I am hoping that I can sleep today away to avoid thinking about anything; then tomorrow I can get to work as early as possible and thrust myself into as many projects as possible. Burry myself in so much work that there won’t be enough space in my brain for thoughts of a particular black-haired British lady.Great.Now I’ve gone and ruined my own morning by involuntarily conjuring up her image in my mind. That smug, condescending as she revealed her identity to me like she’s some kind of telenovela villain. She might actually be one, she fits the profile. Dark-haired and bitchy. But if she’s a novela villain, that would mean that my life has somehow devolved into a Spanish soap opera. I cannot lie, it does feel that way some days.My thoughts, however, are not the only things interrupting my sleep. It’s my stomach. There is a wonderfully delicious smell that is

Carter I didn’t manage to get to sleep after Brea left. It was the first restless night I have had since she came into my life. I’ve never really been good at sleeping on my own. My whole life I have been an insomniac; never being able to catch more than an hour of sleep at a time. I had already begun to get used to the idea of that being my reality for the rest of my life when I met Brea. Right from the beginning we were inseparable— in that I could not be away from her. Whenever I was around her the world seemed a little brighter and everything was a whole lot easier. After a while I noticed that I could do without the sleeping pills whenever she slept over (which very quickly became almost every night). I knew then that I had found my peace. The other half of my soul. I haven’t been away from her since then. Until now. And clearly my body could tell. That was the worst night of sleep I have had in over two decades. I have to drag my exhausted, wifeless ass to Lachlan’s fo