Novels by Ariel

“Jillian,” I whispered, grabbing his wrist, “don’t go out there alone.”His hand closed gently over mine, gun in the other. “I’m not. You’re with me.”“That’s not what I—”He turned, eyes locking on mine, serious. “Christy, if anything happens, I need you to run. You know the side hallway by the library?”I nodded.“There’s a hidden passage behind the tall bookshelf. Pull the black book with the red spine. It opens a door. Go through, stay quiet, don’t stop.”“You’ve had that here this whole time?”“I have escape plans for everything.”“And when were you going to tell me?”“When I was sure I could trust you to come back to me.”I stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in, warming me even through the rising cold of fear.A creak echoed again, closer now.Jillian turned toward the hallway. “Stay behind me. Keep your eyes open.”We moved through the dark corridor like shadows, silent but alert. I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears, pounding wildly. The hall stretched long and

“You’re staring,” I murmured, stretching across the bed.Jillian leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, eyes hot and fixed on me like I was his personal obsession. “Can you blame me?”I smiled, letting the silk sheet slide lower down my chest. “I’m surprised you’re still here. Thought you’d be out chasing shadows by now.”“I should be.”“But?”His voice dropped. “I’d rather be here.”I tilted my head. “That’s unlike you.”“I’m becoming unlike me.” He walked forward slowly, each step deliberate. “You did that.”I sat up. “And what are you going to do about it?”He knelt on the bed, brushing hair from my face. “Make the most of the time I have before everything explodes.”I wrapped my arms around his neck. “Then stop wasting it.”He kissed me, slow and deep, with a desperation that tasted like regret before it even happened. Like he knew something I didn’t. His fingers brushed my spine, and I arched into him instinctively, feeling the heat between us spike like fire on dry wood.“D

“I’m not staying locked up like some fragile doll, Jillian.”“You promised.”“I promised I’d stay safe. Not that I’d stay silent.”He was pacing again, fingers clenched into fists at his sides. His tie hung loose around his neck, and he hadn’t slept. Neither had I.“The last safe house she blew up was a message,” he said. “A direct hit. She’s not playing games anymore.”“Then why are we?”He stopped walking, turning to face me with fire in his eyes. “You think this is a game to me?”“No,” I said quietly. “I think it’s personal.”“It is.”He walked toward me, stopping just short of touching me.“She killed people I trained. Men I trusted. She’s twisting everything.”I looked up at him, eyes searching. “Then let me help you untwist it.”“You don’t understand how deep this goes.”“Then explain it.”He exhaled like he was deflating. “There are things you don’t want to know, Christy. Things I’ve done. Things Alyssa’s still doing.”“I’m already in it, Jillian. Stop trying to keep me on the

The blood was gone.The carpets scrubbed, the walls wiped clean, the shattered vases replaced—like nothing ever happened.But I remembered.The way the gunshots had echoed off the marble floors. The way Reuben’s body dropped. The way Jillian looked at me—really looked at me—like I wasn’t just the girl sold into his world.Like I was something more.Even now, days later, I could still feel the weight of the gun in my hand.I hadn’t fired. I hadn’t needed to.But I had changed.And I could see that he saw it too.Jillian hadn’t left my side since that night. Wherever he went, he made sure someone was stationed outside my room. He didn’t say much—he never did—but the way he hovered near me said everything.Something between us had shifted.We weren’t strangers anymore.Not really.He knocked once before opening my door. He always did that now, even though it was his house.“You’re up early,” he said.I was sitting by the window in my robe, a cup of untouched tea in my hand.“I couldn’t s

I didn’t lock the door.Not immediately, at least.Because I couldn’t stop shaking. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.The sounds downstairs were violent—furniture shattering, men shouting, a gunshot.Then another.And that was all it took. I snapped out of it and ran to the door, locking it with trembling hands.My heart pounded against my ribs as I backed away, one slow step at a time, until my legs gave out and I sank to the floor.Jillian had told me to stay put. To wait.But I couldn’t sit here and do nothing while the people I lived with—the people I maybe started to care about—were under attack.I crawled to the nightstand and yanked the drawer open.The knife from training was still there.Shiny. Heavy.A piece of Jillian’s world that had somehow become mine, too.I gripped the handle and stood, swallowing hard.“Don’t be stupid,” I whispered to myself. “Don’t be reckless.”But I was already unlocking the door.The hallway was quiet. Too quiet.I moved carefully, the knife clutc

“Are you sure it’s him?”I stared at the still image on the screen—the grainy, colorless shot of my father bound to a chair, looking beaten and hollow. I’d seen him tired before. Angry. Broken even. But never like that.Jillian didn’t answer immediately. He studied the video frame by frame, jaw clenched, blue eyes cold.“I’m sure,” he finally said.My breath caught in my throat. “He looked… scared.”Jillian shifted his gaze to me. “They wanted us to see that.”“Who sent it?”He tapped the side of the screen. “Encrypted. But sloppy. We’re close to tracking the source. It’s not Alyssa, not directly. Someone’s acting for her—or trying to make it look that way.”I paced the floor, arms wrapped around my body. “What do they want from us?”“You,” he said without hesitation. “They want you rattled. Scared. Distracted.”“Well, they’ve succeeded,” I muttered bitterly.Jillian rose from his seat and came to stand in front of me. “Don’t let fear control you. You’re stronger than that.”I wanted