Novels by emmz

SebastianI pace the length of my office, my footsteps heavy against the polished floor. My jaw is clenched so tightly it hurts, but I don’t care. My thoughts are racing, each one more frantic than the last. "Find out where that video was taken," I bark at my assistant. My voice comes out sharper than I intended, but I don’t have the patience to care. She nods briskly, her eyes wide with urgency, and rushes out without another word. The door shuts behind her, leaving me and eric alone with the deafening silence and my pounding heart. Then, Eric’s voice explodes through the quiet, his phone pressed tightly to his ear. "She's alive, Dad!" His voice cracks with raw emotion. "She's alive!" I freeze. Eric lowers the phone slowly, his fingers trembling, and turns to face me. A wide grin stretches across his face, pure relief radiating from him like a beacon. For a moment, I just stare at him, the words echoing in my mind. She's alive. Relief crashes over me, so sudden and

ElizabethThe room is dark, but I can still make out the shapes of the walls, the shadows pooling in the corners. This place feels like a prison, and I’ve been counting every second since I woke up here. The padded walls mock me, their softness hiding the cruelty of my situation. My legs feel restless, and my body wired with tension. I’ve been staying in my room, pretending to sleep, watching, waiting. They think I’ve given up. I haven’t. Dr. Maggie’s face flashes in my mind. That fake smile she gave me when she said the flyers were distributed. "Someone will call," she said with such conviction as if she cared. But I knew the truth when I saw the flyers crumpled in her bin. She lied to me. She doesn’t want me to leave. I can’t stay here anymore. I glance at the small pile of items I’ve managed to gather: Dr. Maggie’s stolen keycard, a long coat swiped from a visitor weeks ago. I’ve been planning this for a month, using every moment to map out routines, shifts, and patte

SebastianIt’s been a month. Thirty days since the explosion that almost killed off the Alexanders. A month since Christopher lost his place at Bell Energies and I stepped into his shoes.Shoes that don’t fit and probably never will. All I have dreamt of for years was to get my revenge on Christopher, but I am not enjoying it.And yet, here I am, sitting at this goddamn desk, staring at reports and contracts, pretending like any of this matters. None of it does. Not without Elizabeth. Not without the woman pilling at my heartstrings. Not without our baby. I run a hand through my hair, leaning back in the chair that still reeks of Christopher’s cologne. The office feels suffocating, the air stale, and every corner a reminder of him. He’s too quiet these days, playing along like some obedient lapdog. But I know better. I know him. A cornered animal is the most dangerous kind. Whatever Christopher is planning, it’ll be calculated, brutal, and thorough. He’s not done. Not by a long sho

ElizabethThe fire roars. The images still fresh in my mind. Even with my eyes open, the flames are still there, burning brighter and hotter than anything I’ve ever seen.The heat, the smoke choking me, the sheer helplessness… It’s all so vivid, so real, like it’s still happening.I blink rapidly, trying to push the memories away.My hands grip the edges of the blanket wrapped around me, knuckles white.Someone tried to kill me. Here. In this hospital. In this place I’m supposed to be safe.But I’m not safe.I sit in the sterile room with its pale walls and the faint scent of antiseptic, trying to make sense of everything. My head pounds with frustration.I don’t know who I am. I don’t know why someone would want to kill me. And worst of all, I don’t know where I belong.“Jane. Jane!”I look up at the sound of Dr. Maggie’s voice, startled. It takes me a moment to remember that’s what she calls me now. Jane. It feels foreign, like wearing someone else’s clothes.Dr. Maggie’s kind eyes

ChristopherThe sight of Edward playing in the corner of the room barely registers as I sit back in the leather chair, staring at the untouched glass of whisky in my hand.My chest feels heavy, like there’s a weight pressing against my ribs. The crackling fire in the hearth does nothing to ease the cold knot in my stomach. Elizabeth. She almost died.The thought keeps replaying in my head like a haunting melody, over and over.I picture her surrounded by flames, choking on smoke, her face twisted in terror.My Elizabeth—the mother of my child.How scared must she have been?How close was she to losing her life? My throat tightens at the idea, and I grip the armrest of the chair until my knuckles turn white.Guilt washes over me like a tidal wave, relentless and consuming. I glance at Edward. He’s laughing, spinning a toy car across the floor, his tiny face lit up with pure joy.If he ever finds out what I have done in the name of self-preservation, will he forgive me?He’s oblivious t

SebastianThe elevator doors slide open, and I bolt out, my heart hammering as the thick stench of smoke fills my lungs.The scene ahead is chaos. Flames dance around the charred remains of a car, the heat radiating off the twisted metal almost unbearable even from a distance.Black smoke billows into the night sky, wrapping everything in a suffocating haze.People scream and scatter like panicked ants, their voices rising in a cacophony of fear and confusion. Some are crouched on the ground, others clutching their injuries.The air feels heavy, choking. Sirens wail in the distance, the faint blue and red lights painting the night sky as they approach.My eyes dart around, searching for them—the Alexanders.My chest tightens when I spot James hunched over on the ground, his face pale and smeared with ash.Jonathan is lying flat, clutching his leg, screaming in agony.Adam hovers over him, trying to pull him to his feet, while Eric stands nearby, his face dazed, blood dripping from a g

Epilogue MegraWe stand quietly in front of my mother’s gravestone, feeling the earth beneath my feet solid and cool, like an anchor to this moment. The air is still, the sky washed in muted shades of grey as though the world is holding its breath with me. My eyes trace the familiar letters etched into the smooth stone:**Iris Adams** **Loving Mother, Wife, Daughter, and Sister.**The words feel heavier than usual today, each title pulling me back into memories I’ve spent years trying to bury. There’s something so final about seeing her name like this. My mother. The one person who was always there for me, always strong, always protecting me. And yet, she carried so many secrets. I think about the life she left behind to raise me on her own—the family I only just found out about. All that time, it was just the two of us. She gave up so much, not for herself but for me.A gust of wind stirs the leaves around the graveyard, and I close my eyes, letting the cool air brush against my ski

MegraMusic floats in the air, soft and melodious, filling the room with a sense of calm and joy. I take in a deep breath, letting the sound settle into my bones, feeling its soothing rhythm steady my racing heart. It’s been a year—one long, tumultuous year since everything happened with Becca. A year of healing, of working to forget the chaos Nathaniel and I faced. A year of finding peace, of finding ourselves, of watching Nathaniel become the most wonderful father to the most beautiful daughter.I close my eyes for a moment, holding on to the feeling of peace. When I open them again, I’m staring at myself in the mirror. My eyes glisten with tears as I take in my reflection—my wedding gown flowing around me like a cascade of dreams. It’s the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen, pure white and delicate, with lace that trails down to the floor. I feel like a princess, like the heroine of a story I once dreamed about but never thought would come true.“Oh my gosh, Megra, you look amazin

MegraIt's been a few days since the fire, since Becca's death. I should feel lighter, like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, but instead, there's a different heaviness inside me. I can't quite name it—grief, guilt, relief, maybe all of them tangled together. I stand in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. Mia is perched on the vanity, watching me with her bright eyes. I meet her gaze in the mirror, offering a small smile, though it doesn’t quite reach my eyes.I pick up a small powder puff and begin to dab it gently against my cheeks. The cool, smooth texture of the powder calms me slightly, a welcome distraction from the storm of emotions swirling inside me. Nathaniel is home now, his health restored, his body healing. I’m grateful for that. The newspapers have been full of stories about his heroics, praising him for his bravery. The police cleared his name after searching Becca’s apartment. They found her journals, her twisted plans. It’s all out in the open now.

MegraThe world around me is blurry, shifting in and out of focus. I blink slowly, trying to clear my vision. The ceiling above me is white, harshly bright against my eyes. I feel heavy, like I'm sinking into the hospital bed beneath me. My head throbs, my body aches, and every breath feels like it takes more effort than the last. I hear a steady beep—machines. I’m in a hospital.I remember flames, smoke, Becca's twisted smile. My chest tightens as I recall Nathaniel rushing into the fire. "Nathaniel?" I croak out, my voice barely a whisper, dry and cracked. Panic surges through me, tightening my throat. I try to sit up, but my body protests. "Nathaniel?"A familiar voice, gentle and soothing, cuts through the fog of my thoughts. "He’s fine, my darling." I turn my head slowly, and there she is—Liza, standing beside me. Her face is calm, but I can see the worry in her eyes.“Liza…” I manage, my voice weak. “Where is he? I have to see him. I have to know he’s okay.”She steps closer, ta

Megra“Nathaniel!” I scream, my voice tearing through the chaos as he bursts into the living room, Andrew right behind him. Smoke fills the air, thick and suffocating, and for a moment, all I can see are their silhouettes moving through the haze. My heart leaps with desperate, wild hope. They’ve come for me. They’ve come to save me.Becca’s laugh slices through the air, sharp and cold. Her eyes, wild with madness, flick from Nathaniel to me, and her lips curl into a sinister smile. “You see?” she snarls, her voice dripping with venom. “Even now, even in the face of danger, they run to you. Everyone runs to you, like moths to a flame. Well, then, they deserve your fate.”I watch, my breath catching in my throat, as she pulls a lighter from her pocket, the small flame flickering in the dim light. Fear claws at my insides. “Becca, no!” I shout, but she’s not listening. Her eyes are fixed on Nathaniel and Andrew, her hand steady as she holds the lighter.“Get back!” Becca screams, her voi

The Story of Becca Megra’s eyes are wide with fear, her lips trembling as she pleads. Her voice is a desperate whisper, filled with a panic that only fuels my resolve. She looks so small, so helpless, chained and bound. “Please, Becca,” she begs, her voice cracking. “Why are you doing this? Why?” I pause for a moment, staring at her. My eyes bore into hers, searching, dissecting. It’s like I’m looking right into her soul, seeing every little thing she’s ever taken from me, every single moment she’s made me feel small, insignificant, unwanted. I want her to feel that pain now to understand what she’s done. “I don’t think you should die just yet,” I say slowly, letting the words hang in the air, “without knowing the whole story.” I grab a wooden chair from the corner, dragging it across the floor with a slow, deliberate scrape that echoes through the room. I’m savouring the moment, relishing the fear in her eyes. I set the chair down in front of her and sit, crossing my legs calmly,