Novel-novel oleh Perfect Berries

Michael's point of viewThe rain came in thin sheets, slicking the windows and whispering against the glass like a confession no one wanted to make. My fingers curled tighter around the edge of the desk, knuckles paling beneath the tension. Danielle hadn’t returned my last call. Or the one before that. Silence from her wasn't unfamiliar, but it never came without a price.The office light cast sharp angles across the dark wood of the room. Everything around me was too clean, too still. The kind of quiet that made you realize something had shifted—subtly, but irrevocably.A knock disrupted the hush. It was soft, hesitant."Come in," I said, voice even, betraying nothing.Eliza stepped in, her posture too straight, her face too controlled. That alone made my chest tighten. Eliza never walked on eggshells unless there was something sharp beneath her feet."She went to the old estate," she said, pausing just long enough for her words to sting. "Alone."I didn’t answer. I pushed the chair

Danielle's Point of ViewThe rain came without warning, crashing against the windows like a thousand tiny drums, drowning the silence in Michael's study. I stood near the fireplace, its warmth brushing my skin, though it did nothing to ease the cold growing beneath it. The flames danced but gave no comfort.Michael had been gone for hours. He left with one promise clinging to his back like a shadow: tonight, it ends.I didn’t ask how. I didn’t need to. The look in his eyes had been enough.The storm outside matched the one twisting inside me. I paced, palms damp, heartbeat caught between anticipation and dread. My mind replayed everything that led us here. Every betrayal. Every deal. Every kiss that lingered too long. Every moment I convinced myself I didn’t care.A sharp knock split the air.I turned.The door creaked open.Michael stood there, soaked to the bone, hair clinging to his forehead, blood trickling from his lip.He didn’t speak at first. Just stepped in slowly, eyes locki

Danielle’s Point of ViewThe wind howled outside the mansion as if echoing the storm inside me. I stood at the edge of the hallway, the lights dim, casting long shadows along the marble floors. Michael hadn’t returned since the meeting. Hours had passed, and each second dug its claws deeper into my chest. Something was wrong. I felt it not in my mind, but in the quiet protest of my bones, in the chill that refused to leave my skin.The staff moved like ghosts around me, their eyes dropping whenever I passed. They knew something, or maybe they sensed it too. The air felt heavy, like it was holding its breath with me.My phone buzzed on the console table beside the stairs. I didn’t rush. I couldn’t. My body was too tightly wound, my heart too loud in my ears. I picked it up slowly, the screen casting a pale glow against my face. One message. One name.Leo."It’s done. The board’s vote was unanimous. He’s out."I didn’t breathe. I stared at the words until they blurred. My thumb hovered

Danielle's Point of ViewThe silence in the study wasn't silent at all.It buzzed. Low, constant, like the humming of invisible wires strung too tight between me and the man sitting across from me. Michael sat there, hands steepled under his chin, his gaze unreadable, unreadably dangerous.I stood with my arms folded, the firelight catching the edge of my bracelet—a gift from him, but tonight it felt like a shackle.He hadn't spoken in minutes.Neither had I.But it wasn't silence. Not really.It was the tension that spoke, the quiet that screamed."Say it," I said finally, my voice thin but not weak.His eyes didn't blink. "You met with Elijah."I swallowed.He already knew."And you already knew that when you asked me to sit down. So what is this? A performance?"Michael rose slowly from his chair, the leather creaking under the shift of his weight. He moved toward the window, hands in his pockets, the movement deceptively casual."You went alone."The window reflected both of us. M

Danielle's Point of ViewThe rain painted the glass in streaks, soft drumming tapping against the tall windows of Michael's study. The fire crackled in the hearth, but no warmth reached me. I stood at the far end of the room, arms wrapped around myself, watching the storm blur the night into nothing. The silence between us had stretched for too long, taut like a string on the edge of snapping.Michael was behind me, his presence unmistakable even in silence. I didn’t need to turn to know his posture—hands in his pockets, gaze fixed, unreadable. The way he looked at me lately... like he was seeing more than I wanted him to. Like he was waiting for something I hadn't decided to give."You haven’t said a word in hours," he finally murmured.His voice didn’t startle me. It never did. It crawled beneath my skin, settled there, and stayed."What would you like me to say?" I asked, my voice low, almost swallowed by the storm.He didn’t answer immediately. I heard the faint creak of the leath

Danielle's point of viewThe warmth of Michael's hand still lingered against mine as I sat in the quiet of my bedroom, the fire flickering low in the hearth. The silence felt different now—not sharp or cold, but suspended, like a breath waiting to be exhaled. I stared at the shadows dancing across the ceiling, replaying his words.You are more.It should have felt validating. It should have filled the spaces I had carved inside myself to survive. But instead, it unearthed something deeper, something I wasn't ready to name.The moonlight pooled across the floor, bathing the marble in silver. I stepped toward the window, pulling the curtain aside. The garden below was still, the roses trimmed, the hedges perfect. Too perfect.Just like everything else in this house.I heard him before I saw him. Michael's gait, deliberate and slow, the whisper of his shoes against the hall runner. I didn't move when the door opened.He paused at the threshold. For a moment, neither of us said a word."I