Novels by Nadia Stephanie

~~~~ Sixteen years ago ~~~~"Here, take this."Kristof gave the old lady a little water. He had considered this woman his mother for the past nine years. He pressed the cup against her mouth and slowly raised it. A little stream of water flowed through her lips.Her dried lips had bloodstains on them. She had been coughing up blood for days now. The end was near. Isoldi would soon die. She knew it and Kristof knew it as well. She had found little Kristof after his accident. She saved him, nurtured him, and gave him a home."Thank you, my dear boy," she softly spoke. Her voice was old and croaky."Go to sleep now, I'll stay with you." Kristof put a blanket over her."I honestly hope I won't wake up this time, Kristof.My time on earth is through and I am glad for it.The only thing I will miss is seeing your pretty face." She caressed his cheek."Don't tell lies on your deathbed, ma." Kristof wanted to cry because of her words, but he didn't want to upset her."I'm not lying. You are b

~ Five years ago ~It was a hot day. The sun was shining bright and there wasn't a breath of wind. Kristof searched for a place in the shade. Right now he wondered why he decided to visit the town's market on a day like this, with these high temperatures.He enjoyed visiting the market. It was something he used to do as a little boy with his parents.He had wrapped up a thin cloth around half of his face. People could think it was for protection, because of the scorching sun, so this was a pretty handy disguise to cover up his scar.A large tree provided a good place to have some rest. He sat down and rested his back against the lumpy tree trunk. He was sitting in the dry dirt, but he didn't mind. Happily, he looked at the people and the busy market life. Some people were bargaining, car’s drove around, farmers and merchants sold their goods. He could smell the different scents of leather, spices, horse poo, and whatnot. Children played, old people talked together, and young people la

Her heart was hammering inside her chest, her breathing was fast, her hands were sweaty. Spencer walked towards the man that stood in front of the aisle. The man was dressed in a navy blue shiny wedding suit with a purple belt. It was the first time she saw him.The man stood in the last rays of sunlight of the day, almost a golden glow around him as the sun was about to set and the sky was painted in all kinds of colors, orange, pinks, and purples.The man that Spencer had been avoiding until now, smiled at her, but Spencer didn't see the honest, happy, and warm smile. She could only see the imperfection: the large scar on the man's face that looked monstrous to her.She swallowed a big lump in her throat, and while walking past the guests that all sat on their flower-decorated chairs, she had to grab one of those chairs for a moment as she felt unstable and her knees weak.God, she couldn't go through with this, could she?She then looked at Kristof's hands which were covered in sat

Kristof stepped outside after he'd finished his talk with the mayor, or actually, it was more the mayor’s financial adviser who'd done most of the talking.It appeared that the mayor wanted to visit his mine.Kristof couldn't refuse, one could never refuse his mayor, so they made an appointment straight away.He thought he could also bring Spencer, to show her his life's work.Kristof owed his wealth to his business. It was a diamond mine, the only one in the country.While traveling all over the world when he was younger, he somehow learned everything there was to know about the mines and though he himself was not the best miner—because he was short on one hand—he did know everything there was about mining and geology.With a small fortune that was left to him from his inheritance, he hired the best geologists, miners, and other workers needed for the mine to run.Once that was settled, they started digging and his mine was born. Soon after, the first diamonds were found. Thankfully

Spencer looked at the plate in front of her. Her mother had put all her love and hard work into that meal, she could tell. They never ate such extravagant food. She had given her the most tender piece of meat, which she probably cooked to comfort her, but she couldn't eat it. Not even one bite. Her stomach turned in all directions. She felt nauseous.Her father just dropped a bomb on her . She was told that she was to marry someone she had never met before. Someone she didn't love. Someone that was a pariah to society. The 'one-handed monster' that's what the people in town called that someone.A man that was known as Kristof Sutherfield.Besides that, being famed for being a freak, he was also well-known for being the wealthiest man in the country.Kristof wasn't liked by the people of class, for he had no class like they did. He held no title, like a mayor or a vice president . He gained his fortune by earning it with his own hands, or better yet, single-handedly.The man only had o

Asher’s POVFatigue was overwhelming me; indeed, I was heading home to shed all the rest of the weary day behind me. But then something caught my eye.At first, I believed it was some rubbish or clothing dumped off the road. Then the headlights were close enough to reveal to me that it was not: Someone lay there, immobile. My chest felt tight.I slammed on the brakes, swerved off the road, and jumped out of the car, hardly aware that the rain was soaking through my jacket. Cold air hit me as I rushed forward, splashing through puddles in my shoes. She lay on her side; her hair was wet and clinging to her face, her clothes damp from rain. I was squatting near her, my heart pounding. "Hey," I said softly, hoping for some kind of response. Nothing. At least she moved her chest slightly; she was breathing. It gave me some relief, but not enough. I needed to get her help.I quickly pulled out my phone and dialed for an ambulance. My voice was shaking as I explained what I'd found and g

Eugene’s POVEvery morning, Nicole would leave the small white pills on the kitchen counter, accompanied by a cold, expectant glare. He didn’t even bother to hide his disdain anymore. The pills sat there like tiny reminders of how much he hated what I carried inside me.“Take them,” he’d say, his tone sharp and cutting, as if the command alone would erase the life growing within me.I would nod, murmuring something inaudible, and he’d watch me like a hawk as I picked them up. It was a routine now—his gaze burning into me as I swallowed water from a glass, my hand shaking just enough to look convincing. He never stayed long enough to see what happened next.The moment he left the room, I would rush to the sink, spit out the pill, and pour the glass of water down the drain to make it look as though I’d finished. The pills themselves, I tucked into the back of the trash or flushed down the toilet when he wasn’t around.Nicole thought he had won—that I’d surrendered to his demands. But he

Eugene’s POVIt’s the third anniversary of my marriage to Nicole, and I couldn’t be more excited. Three years of love, laughter, and a dream that we could build a future together. Or so I thought.I have been feeling sick and weak, and altogether just not myself for the last week. I thought probably just stress or maybe a flu would hit me, but each day that went by, I realized something was really wrong with me. It was not an illness.So, I did what a responsible person would do and went to the doctor. I froze when I heard the result. Two months pregnant. I could not take it in initially. What? A baby? Huh, I never expected such a thing. But even as the shock settled on me, I felt a wave of hope billowing from within. Yes, this was it. This was the change that would make Nicole come back to me. He always said he didn't want children but this was different. Surely, once he found that this baby had entered the picture, everything would be different.The whole thing was bubbling in me as

Eugene's POVThe door slams open, and before I can even process what’s happening, Nicole is standing right in front of me. His face is full of regret, his eyes filled with desperation.“Eugene...” His voice shakes when he says my name. The vulnerability in his eyes makes my heart ache, and for a moment, I almost forget everything that’s happened between us. But as his gaze lingers on me, a coldness settles in my chest. It’s the pain from earlier, still fresh, still raw.I don’t turn around at first. I just stay where I am, my back to him, my hands pressed against the cool glass of the window. I try to steady my breathing, trying to act like I’m fine, like his words and actions from tonight haven’t hurt me so deeply.“You don’t need to say anything, Nicole,” I whisper, my voice barely above a breath. “You’ve already made it clear where I stand.”He steps closer, his shoes making a soft click against the hardwood floor. “No... no, Eugene. Please, just... let me explain.”I shut my eyes

Eugene’s POVI scroll lazily through my phone as I sip tea in the morning. The morning is quite normal, but then suddenly I see a flashing picture and pause."Congratulations to Nicole Armstrong on his long-deserved promotion!" The caption is bright and cheerful, almost glowing, but the picture burns. There stands my husband smiling broadly, his champagne-glass raised, surrounded by all his colleagues. At a very lavish venue, surrounded by many unfamiliar faces. And yet, I wasn't there.I blink, reread the post. Maybe I missed something. Maybe he mentioned it and I forgot. But I just can't seem to find a memory of him ever telling me about that party.A chill creeps into my bones as I stare at the screen. My thumb hovers over the "Call" button. He is probably busy, I assure myself, but my stomach tightens further. I push the button anyway.The phone rings once, twice, three times, before it reaches voicemail."Hey, it's me," I say, trying to keep my voice level. "Just saw the post abo

Mila's POVThe loud buzzing of the burner phone in the kitchen jolted me out of sleep. I had fallen asleep on the floor, and despite the cold weather, the warmth from the white rug kept me warm. Dragging myself sluggishly towards the kitchen, the phone rang again before I picked it up. Ma was on the phone, her voice cold and impatient. "It is past 10:30, why didn't you call us?" she demanded. When I did not respond for what felt like hours.She continued, "How did things go, and why the silence? I could tell she was worried; she despised a job gone wrong. "One question at a time," I insisted, eager not to reveal the full extent of my meeting with the general. How could I tell Ma that, for a split second, I wanted to throw myself into my target's arms, or that he brought me to life in a variety of ways? "Maybe if you had answered and not deviated from the inquiry, then I wouldn't have to ask them all over again, and to think you didn't report back to me sooner, for God's sake

I delved my thigh forward, taking in the surrounding warmth. I had never been more mesmerized in my twenty-eight years of life. His hand on my hair sent relief surging through my spine. He moved down to my shoulders and kneaded my tense limp shoulder; it felt good, I had to admit. I am not sure when it happened, but a moan escaped through my lips, prompting him to grit his teeth. Unable to control the surge of current, I threw back my head. What was this? He needed to stop before I lost control. "Oh", I had lost control. "Do you like that? ", he inquired, trailing his index finger over the taut swell of my nipple which was visible beneath my gaudy dress. I just nodded, unable to say anything. He uses a remote control, and after a few clicks, the black-tinted glass separating the driver and backseat slides up. It was a Cadillac XTS sedan with three doors on either side, a standard leather interior, and an illuminated door handle that came off as if the stars had dropped from th

Jonathan’s POVI wasn’t one to wax poetic about a woman, but she was stunning. She looked like a doll with her golden hair and big, blue eyes. No, not a doll, a siren. I had found my eyes being drawn to her mouth over and over again, wondering what she tasted like.I liked to get to know a woman better before I took her to bed, and I knew nothing about Mila. And yet my blood was singing for her. There was something almost vulnerable about her, something that aroused long-buried, protective instincts towards her. I was curious about Mila in a way I hadn’t been curious about a woman in years.She slid into the car and I walked around it to join her in the backseat. My driver’s eyes met mine from the rearview mirror, full of wide-eyed surprise. I ignored him.When I turned to look at Mila, she was patting her hair with a look of pain.“What is it?” I asked.“It's nothing.” She said, “Okay, it’s something. One of the pins in my hair Is digging into my skull.”“Let me try.” I motioned at

Mila’s POV“Oh God,” I mumbled, hoping that the ground would open right up and swallow me. The general set me to my feet and the next second, his jacket was off his body and wrapped around my body.“Come with me.” He said. I wasn’t given any time to respond or make a decision to follow him, because his hand found the small of my back and ushered me ahead of him into a room three doors down from the scene of our unusual first meeting. The room he led us into was large and tastefully decorated. A gigantic bed was the center of attraction in the room.The TV was on and showing some sort of documentary. The volume was turned all the way down so I couldn’t tell what it was. I had seen pictures of the general of course. Ma’s dossier on him included pictures of him, mostly pictures of him in his uniform though. But the photos could never have prepared me for the real thing. He was tall, that was my first thought. But it wasn’t just that he was over six feet tall, it was that he was imposing.

Mila’s POVPeter Orlando was a sixty-something-year-old man with a double chin and thinning hair who didn’t look at me the whole journey over. He had picked me up from my building by six pm in a blacked-out SUV. As soon as I had joined him in the backseat, he had glanced at me before looking away. For the entire hour-plus duration of the journey, he had been carefully avoiding looking my way.When Ma had said he was her acquaintance, I hadn’t thought much of it, but now I wondered what dirty secret my parents were dangling over his head to make him do this.The car finally pulled up to a gate and a man in an all-black outfit stepped up to the car. The glasses were rolled down and his small, beady eyes scanned the interior of the car.“Who is she?” he asked, eyes pinned on me. My expression remained carefully blank as I held his gaze.“Mila, my date.”“Did she sign the NDA?” I blinked in mild surprise. I hadn’t heard about a non-disclosure agreement.“Of course.” The car slid through t

Mila’s POVIt was the third fundraising event I was attending in two days. I stood at one corner and pretended to sip my drink while my eyes stayed glued to the entrance in wait for the General’s arrival.Ma had faxed over a whole dossier on the man and she had already warned me that the chances of him showing up to these events was less than two percent. I bit back my sound of frustration. Every second I wasted at these events was another second that Helen could be getting hurt.I had already started putting my plan B into motion because it seemed my plan A was turning out to be a total bust. I headed to the bathroom to reapply my lipstick and touch up on my makeup. Two hours standing around in a crowded ballroom had probably smudged the carefully applied makeup by now.“The general won’t show up tonight. He wouldn’t be caught dead in these things.” I heard a woman’s voice coming from one of the sitting rooms as I walked down the hall. I immediately changed directions, inching toward