Novels by Mega Godwin

The penthouse in the heart of Manhattan felt colder and emptier than it ever had. Williams O’Connell sat in his office, the city skyline stretching beyond the windows. The man who once commanded boardrooms and navigated billion-dollar deals now felt lost in his own life. Lisa’s absence gnawed at him. It had been two months since she left, and in that time, the world had lost its color. Her laughter, her resilience, and the way she challenged him had become the only things he truly valued. Now, they were gone. He poured himself a drink, though it was only midday, and stared at the photograph that had caused the rift between them. The picture of Lisa with another man—a photo that Morgan had so conveniently sent him—lay on his desk. He had stared at it for weeks, dissecting every detail, until the truth finally emerged. The man was Lisa’s cousin. The realization had struck him like a lightning bolt. The love of his life had been accused, mistrusted, and driven away because of his

The night was heavy with silence. Lisa lay on her side, staring at the darkened ceiling of her bedroom. Sleep refused to come, her mind replaying the confrontation with Williams over and over. His accusations had cut deeper than she’d expected, not because of the words themselves, but because of what they revealed: he didn’t trust her. By morning, her decision was made. She couldn’t stay. Not like this. Lisa spent the early hours packing her belongings into a single suitcase. She moved quietly, not wanting to alert anyone in the house. Her resolve faltered only once, as she folded a scarf Williams had bought her during one of their rare, carefree moments. For a brief second, she let herself remember the man he was before his doubts poisoned everything. But the sting of his mistrust was stronger than the memory of his kindness. When Williams woke up later that morning, he found Lisa’s room empty. Panic shot through him as he searched the house, but she was nowhere to be found. H

Lisa adjusted her chair in the spacious living room of the O’Connell estate, her sketchpad perched on her knees. The designs she worked on for her fashion class were coming together nicely, but she couldn’t shake the growing tension in the house. Despite her best efforts to be polite and gracious, the hostility from Williams’ mother, Stacy, and Morgan was relentless. Every cutting remark, every snide comment about her background, chipped away at her composure.Her pencil hesitated mid-stroke as the sound of footsteps echoed behind her. She turned to see Williams walking in, his expression unreadable. His silence lately had been unsettling, and the unspoken distance between them gnawed at her.“Is everything alright?” Lisa asked hesitantly, closing her sketchpad.Instead of answering, Williams pulled a small envelope from his pocket and placed it on the coffee table. His movements were deliberate, almost too calm, which made Lisa’s stomach churn.“What’s this?” she asked, leaning forwa

The room was silent except for the ticking of the clock. Williams sat in his study, the report from David lying open in front of him. The truth stared back at him, mocking him with its simplicity.Her cousin. The man in the photographs—the supposed evidence of Lisa’s betrayal—was her cousin, Jason Hart. A name, a history, even a picture of them together at family gatherings filled the file.Williams let out a heavy breath, his head sinking into his hands. How had he let it come to this?It wasn’t the evidence that haunted him the most, though. It was the memory of Lisa’s face the night she left. The pain in her eyes, the tremble in her voice, the way her words had hit him like a physical blow.“I thought we were building something real, Williams. But I can’t keep fighting alone.”He had replayed those words countless times over the past three months, each repetition cutting deeper than the last. He had destroyed the one thing he hadn’t even realized he couldn’t live without—her trust.

The relentless downpour outside mirrored the storm inside Lisa’s heart. Rain blurred the city skyline, streaking the towering windows of the penthouse as though mocking the tears she refused to shed. Lisa stared at her suitcase on the bed, her hands trembling as she folded the last item of clothing.This was it.Leaving had been a fleeting thought in the past—when the weight of their “fake” marriage had become too much or when Williams’s coldness pierced her heart. But each time, she had stayed, clinging to the hope that there was something real between them. That hope had shattered the moment he placed the photos on the table, his gaze hard and accusing.“Explain this,” he had demanded.The betrayal she’d seen in his eyes had cut deeper than the words themselves. She had tried to explain—how the man in the photos was her cousin, how their meeting had been innocent. But he hadn’t believed her. The seed of doubt Morgan had planted had grown into a twisted vine, choking the fragile conn

Chapter Eight Rachel's POVThe heavy feeling of Harry's confession remained in my mind, even after I had closed the door behind him. Somehow, I felt an emptiness within my stomach, as if he'd taken a piece of me with him. His honesty had come right out of the blue, after such a huge day. I had so many questions, yet had absolutely no idea where to begin in finding the answers.I wandered back into the darkened living room, skimming my fingers over an old photo frame on the mantle-my parents. Their faces, frozen in a faded smile, seemed a distant echo of a life I no longer knew. The ritual, Harry's words, the power…all so rapidly changing.Night wore on and my exhaustion tugged at me. I barely made it to my bedroom before collapsing onto the bed, my mind foggy with remnants of my day. The picture of the old man's wrinkled face, his warning cryptic, wouldn't leave my head: "To gain power, you must let go of something precious."What had I lost? Or worse-what was I going to lose?---I