Novels by Eddiewritesbooks

Adrian placed Ashleigh gently on the couch in his study, her expression troubled even in unconsciousness. He lingered for a moment, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, before turning to step outside. As he stepped out of his study, the heavy door clicked shut behind him. His gaze immediately fell on the cluster of staff lingering in the hallway, their curious whispers abruptly silenced when his cold eyes met theirs. Susan was crying hysterically, her face buried in Chef Larry’s chest, while Mrs. Smith stood nearby, frowning with disapproval.Adrian’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening as the scene grated on his nerves. “And why are you all still standing here?” his voice cut through the air, sharp as a whip. “Do you not want your jobs anymore?” The reprimand snapped them back to reality. The staff scattered, scurrying back to their assigned duties, their heads bowed. Only Susan lingered, still sobbing as Chef Larry tried to console her. Adrian strode toward them,

“Ashleigh, in all this, why didn’t you call your husband?”The question hit her harder than she expected. She’d imagined countless times how she’d answer if he asked—how she’d finally let her anger spill over, shouting about the missed karaoke night she planned, the insults instead of an apology, the countless ways Adrian had hurt her. But hearing it from Mrs. Smith left her frozen.The words she longed to scream shriveled in her throat, leaving only a bitter weight in her stomach. But as Mrs. Smith waited for her answer, Ashleigh found herself not saying anything, it was like the words dried up in her throat, and left a bitter feeling in her belly instead.“I’m still waiting for you, dear,” Mrs. Smith’s voice was calm but firm, pulling Ashleigh from her swirling thoughts.“I didn’t feel like I needed to depend on him,” Ashleigh finally said, her voice steady but strained. “I thought I could handle it myself.”“My dear, Adrian is always there to help you. He cares for you very much, y

The view from Ashleigh’s window should have been calming, even breathtaking. The sprawling gardens of the Cagliari mansion were meticulously maintained, with vibrant blossoms swaying in the gentle afternoon breeze and perfectly trimmed hedges lining the walkways like green soldiers at attention. Beyond them, the ornate fountains shimmered in the sunlight, their cascading water catching the golden light. It was a postcard-perfect scene.Yet, to Ashleigh, it was all a cruel reminder of her confinement. The beauty outside was unreachable, as always at the Cagliari mansion. She sat curled on the window sill, her knees drawn to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them as if to keep herself from unraveling. The afternoon sun warmed her skin, but it did nothing to thaw the cold ache that had settled deep in her chest. Her eyes flicked to her phone lying on the small table beside her. The messages on her department’s group chat haunted her. Each text, each comment had felt like a blow

Adrian’s office was heavy with silence, the kind that pressed down on the air like a suffocating weight. Mr. Turner sat quietly in the corner, doing his best to make himself invisible. He’d worked with Adrian Cagliari for years and had witnessed many of his moods: sharp anger, cold detachment, and moments of ruthless efficiency. But today, there was something different—something he couldn’t quite define.Adrian sat behind his massive oak desk, his fingers steepled, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the window. He hadn’t said much since they returned from the hospital. His posture was as composed as ever, but the set of his jaw and the faint crease in his brow hinted at something far more volatile simmering beneath the surface.Turner shifted in his chair, his instinct to speak overridden by experience. He had long since learned that silence was often the safest response when Adrian’s mood darkened. Especially now, when the man who normally seemed invincible looked... troubled.The quiet

Adrian gazed at Ashleigh's fragile form, curled up in the backseat of the sleek black BMW. Her breathing was shallow, her brows occasionally furrowing as she shifted in her sleep, her pale hospital gown clinging to her delicate frame. His eyes lingered over her face, tracing every familiar feature—the soft curve of her lips, the faint shadow beneath her eyes, her slender hand supporting her head. It had been so long since he’d last seen her, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away.The steady rhythm of raindrops against the window and the gentle hum of the car’s engine were the only sounds in the silence. Up front, Mr. Turner and the driver remained still, sensing the tension radiating from Adrian. The mood was heavy, laced with unspoken anger that simmered just beneath his composed exterior.The drive back to the mansion had been filled with Adrian’s restrained fury. The sight of Ashleigh in that hospital bed, weakened and vulnerable, had ignited something he hadn’t felt in a long time—a

The room was unnervingly still, the kind of silence that presses down on you, suffocating. Ashleigh lay stiffly in the hospital bed, her body motionless but her mind racing. The IV drip attached to her arm was slowly delivering something meant to make her sleep, but sleep had become a foreign concept. Her thoughts kept pulling her back to the past twenty-four hours, playing on repeat like a nightmare she couldn’t escape.Through the thin walls, she could hear Arthur talking in the hallway, his voice sharp, clearly dismissing whoever had come to visit her. He was keeping them away, and she was grateful for it. The whole school had seen the video—everyone was talking about it. But nobody was saying anything good.Ashleigh felt dirty. Filthy. Her skin crawled as if it had absorbed the shame of the entire incident. Damien’s cold indifference hadn’t helped. The memory of him walking out as soon as she woke up, ignoring her calls, was a fresh wound. She understood why he didn’t want to see