Novels by Emel Emerald

The Last Battle – Axel's Final Stand The triplets burst into Audrey's apartment, closing the door. Audrey sat in the middle of the room, holding herself, face white. Jasmine gave her a quick glance. "You okay?" Audrey nodded but winced her hands. Jayla sighed deeply. "You should have mentioned it when he called." Audrey gazed down. "I thought I could handle it." Jade snorted. "Not with Axel. He doesn't listen to no." Jasmine stood by the window, narrowed eyes intently focused as she gazed out. Then she froze. Outside, in front of the window, on the street, a black car. A dark figure in the car. Watching. Waiting. Her heart was pounding. He was here. She spun to her sisters, low voice, resolute. "He's outside." Audrey's eyes widened. "What?" Jayla leaped to the window to look out. Jade cursed under her breath. "That psycho." Jasmine breathed slowly, deeply, attempting to soothe herself. She wasn't scared. She was angry. Axel had done enough already. Sarah was d

The Final Stand – Axel's Last Gamble Audrey was on her couch in her apartment, frowning at her phone, the screen lighting up with an unknown number. Her gut clenched. She knew who it was. The second it started ringing she knew. A shiver ran down her spine, her heart racing. Axel. He was calling her. She swallowed hard, her fists tight. She had blocked him. Had changed her routine. Had tried to close him out of her life. And yet. He'd somehow come back anyway. The ringing stopped. A voicemail message showed up. She was breathing irregularly as she hit play. And then his voice was smooth and even, weighted with something sinfully wicked bouncing off of the walls. "Audrey he said, did you really think I'd let you go that easily?" Her blood went cold. "We both know you still think of me. Of us." Her fists clenched on the phone. No. No, she didn't. She wouldn't. She couldn't. "I gave you your space. I let you pretend. But it's time to come home, sweetheart." Audre

The Fall of a Legacy – Their Father Is Brought to Account Their father slumped in the interrogation room, the stark metal table between him and the detectives. For the first time in his life, he was not in charge. His expensive attorneys weren't going to get him out of this today. His influence, his name, his power—it meant nothing now. The seasoned detective dropped a file onto the desk, reopening it. Pictures. Documents. DNA tests. It all lay before him. "You drew up official papers," the detective said, his own voice tightly controlled. "You drew up fake papers and left your firstborn daughter to live and live comfortably. His father's jaw clenched. The detective continued, "And because of that, Sarah spent her entire life believing she wasn't wanted." A bitter silence. "And now she's dead." For a moment—a fleeting moment—something passed through his father's eyes. Regret? Guilt? Maybe. But too little, too late. The detective leaned in.

The Last Truth – A Mother's Justice The triplets were in their mother's living room, the weight of what they had to say very much on their minds. Their mother sat opposite them, her fists clenched on the armrests of the chair while her face was set in stiff lines. Jasmine took a deep breath. "Mom… we've got something to say." Jayla leaned forward. "Something about Dad." Jade sighed. "And Sarah." Her mother's eyebrows jerked with horror when she said the name Sarah. "What about her?" Jasmine's voice was constricted, but she fought to say something. "She was our sister." Their mother's breath stalled. Her hand gripped the chair as her knuckles turned white. No one uttered a word for a second. Then, in a whisper just above a murmur— "What did you just say?" Jayla swallowed hard. "Sarah… she was Dad's daughter." Jade paused before saying again, "His first daughter." Their mother turned white. "That's not… that's not possible." Jasmine pulled out the pro

The Aftermath – Shadows of the Past The triplets sat in silence, the weight of the news pressing down on them. Sarah was dead. And even after everything she had done. Even after the lies, the betrayals, the destruction It didn’t feel like a victory. Jade let out a slow breath, staring at the floor. “I thought I’d feel… relieved.” Jayla shook her head, her voice quieter than usual. “Me too.” Jasmine's clutch on her cup of coffee spasmed. "She was our sister." Jayla grumbled unwillingly. "Half-sister." Jasmine shut her eyes. "It doesn't matter." For in the end, Sarah had been as lost as they had once been. The difference? She never had her way back. Fraser and Tressa – A New Beginning, or a New Threat? Tressa turned a lock of hair around her finger, watching out the apartment window. "She's really gone," she murmured. Fraser, who stood behind her, let out a deep sigh. "Yeah." Tressa’s chest tightened. Sarah had been many things—an enemy, a rival, a storm in human form.

The Aftermath – A New Future, A Lingering Past Sarah retreated from the front door of Fraser's, her heart pounding in her ears. She'd dreamed to herself for months that she might possibly be able to fix what she'd broken. That she could win him back. But now? Now, she knew more. She'd been too late. Fraser's moved on. And not with someone. With Tressa. A woman as clever, as cunning, as smart as Sarah used to be. Sarah's fists clenched. She'd lost before. But this? This was not the same. This had been done. And she was not so sure that she could do that. And meanwhile – Fraser and Tressa's New Beginning Tressa shut the door, breathing softly as she smiled at Fraser. "A knight?" she said, regarding him. Fraser rubbed at his hair, jaw locked. "That was. unexpected." Tressa smiled, leaning on the wall. "Seriously? You didn't think she'd come crawling back sooner or later, or something?" Fraser breathed slowly. "Part of me did, yes. But that moment I just saw her?"

The Blackwood family home ceased to exist as a being.It was the case at a time when habit stood in for loyalty and dread was mistaken for control. Now the cadence faltered. Each chamber had its pulse, its distinct strain. The machinery of the empire continued to move. They grinded noisily metal clashing, against metal.The tension, in the atmosphere was palpable.---VivianVivian faced her mirror combing her hair with rhythmic motions that were less about appearance and more, about maintaining control.Her image remained composed. Serene jaw, gaze, the slightest raise of her eyebrow. The look she bore when she declined to be unsettled.She replayed Samuel’s outburst from that day: the broken glass, the eruption of fury the way his voice broke on the word "betrayal." For the time ever her father appeared… diminished. Not necessarily fragile,. Diminished, like a painting faded from prolonged exposure, to sunlight.“You’re faltering " she whispered to her mirrored image.Not mocking. N

Dawn came and the mansion remained lifeless. It seemed… empty. The servants proceeded cautiously nearly tiptoeing through the corridors as if making any noise could cause the walls to collapse, The night’s calamity still lingered in the atmosphere. Samuel’s eruption, the messenger, the hush that fell like a guillotine’s edge. Each noise seemed off. Even the ticking clocks appeared to be, out of sync. --- Samuel: A Storm with a Pulse Samuel emerged from his study as if dragged abruptly from a nightmare before he could complete his scream. His eyes were swollen and red his shirt and his tie uneven. He hadn’t rested—. If he did it was only due, to the bourbon rendering him unconscious. He thrust a ledger onto the dining table with intensity that the cutlery bounced. “Deceivers!" he shouted. "Every one of you. There’s a leak, in my accounts. Someone is assisting her.” The term her emerged dense and odd as though it roughened his throat while exiting. The servants halted abruptl

The Blackwood dining hall had never appeared more, like a sanctuary.The chandeliers shone intensely.The candles cast extended, flickering shadows.The silver. Buffed almost to perfection. Shone, like a caution.Samuel was adamant, about the display.He desired a banquet, a demonstration of power a signal, to the citys upper class that the Blackwood crown remained securely on his brow. He had requested the wines, the richest meats, the most exotic fare. Servants hurried about him frightened of dropping anything afraid to make a sound.Samuel straightened his cuffs for the time.“They’ll realize we remain intact " he whispered.However his gaze continually flickered toward the doors as though anticipating a spirit to appear.---The Guests: Jackals in SilkThey showed up wearing assurance and hidden blades.Bankers, financiers, aristocrats, with lips resembling dried fruit; ladies draped in high fashion and mysteries. They beamed, kissed Samuel’s cheeks remarked on the "array.Their e

The Blackwood estate had consistently valued its quietude. The type, the affluent sort the kind expressed through chandelier glow and gleaming marble.At this moment the silence seemed off.Too sharp.Too thin.Like breath trapped in the throat of the house itself.The walls appeared to eavesdrop. The mirrors looked as if they observed. Even the floor groaned in spots that had never previously dared to groan.Samuel navigated everything with a sort of grace. The grace of someone who still felt he possessed the terrain falling apart beneath him. His cane tapped the marble with a irate beat and each noise echoed back, to him louder than it originated.His anger surged before him like a tempest.“Who handled this ledger?”“Why is this number different?”“Don’t deceive me. You better not deceive me!”He confronted employees who had worked for him since he was young charging them with embezzling from accounts they had no knowledge of. One housekeeper broke down sobbing intensely she was un

The Blackwood mansion looked celebratory that night lit by chandeliers and gold-trimmed details casting a shine meant to convince onlookers that everything was fine but Samuel had arranged a dinner not for pleasure instead He wanted the company not for enjoyment but to have others see him as composed and commanding and Preserving appearances was the tactic he still knew how to handle. The long dining table was flawlessly set: shining cutlery, dazzling crystal glasses and plates shinier than automobiles, Prominent figures, from the city were present since curiosity often outweighed caution. If the Blackwoods were causing unrest everyone wanted to hear the story. Samuel sat at the head of the table positioned stiffly, a bourbon within easy but subtle access. From a distance he seemed composed and serene. Close up the faint quiver in his hand revealed the truth, behind the mask. “To constancy " he said, lifting the glass. "The Blackwoods never surrender.” Polite applause followed—sh

The Blackwood estate appeared lavish, chilly overly arrogant. Yet there was an underlying unease. It was palpable, throughout the corridors. The servants murmured often. Doors normally open remained closed. Even the chandeliers were excessively bright as if attempting to mask something.Samuel sat in his office gazing at a stack of reports he had reviewed thrice already, His bourbon was sweating on the table. His hand trembled enough to make the glass hit the wood. He chose to ignore it.Three audits.Three different firms.All of them expressed the sentiment in a courteous professional manner that Samuel believed was offensive:Funds disappeared. Documents were modified. Transactions occurred without his knowledge.Not much. Insufficient for the world to perceive.But enough for him.Someone was striking him at his vulnerable spot. Gradually, intentionally, as if they intended for him to truly sense it.He despised the sensation more, than the act of stealing.“Father?”Harrison ling