Novels by Janelle Rich

Marrissa's point of view The silence in the room stretched down a long time, and my mind would not stop racing. The tension between us was indescribable. I stared at the amber liquid inside the bottle, swirling it slowly. I knew he was shocked to hear me talk about bullies. Anyone who knows me now without hearing my story would think I have always been this outspoken and bold Hell, there were times I didn't want morning to come because I was too scared to go to school.“I was bullied in school,” I said, not really intending to—but the words had already started. “I was that fat girl. The one people whispered about in hallways and laughed at during gym class. Boys used to pretend to flirt with me as a joke.”Morgan's brows drew together, his lips parted slightly. But I continued before he could say anything.“I hated myself. Every inch of my body was annoying to me. So one day I stopped eating. I went on some insane diet I found online. I nearly collapsed at school twice. I passed ou

Morgan's point of view I walked around the room, hating the silence between me and Marrissa, hating myself more for ruining what would have been a perfect union.Marrissa stood on the far end of the room, her arms crossed tight over her chest, refusing to look at me. And really, could I blame her? I had messed up again. She had every right to be furious, but something about the weight of her silence, the way she did not even want to fight anymore, made my chest ache in a way I didn’t know how to stop.I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated and feeling helpless. As I walked further into the room, my eyes caught a cabinet in the corner. I walked over and opened it. Inside it was a full bottle of whiskey standing tall like some forgotten souvenir from a better time.“Perfect,” I whispered. “At least this would lighten the mood.”I grabbed it and twisted the cap off with more force than necessary, and slowly walked over to Marrissa. I sat down near her, not close enough to invade her s

Marrissa's point of view I held the doorknob, needing to get out of that room, away from Morgan, away from the mess of emotions churning inside me. I twisted it hard to the left. Nothing happened. I turned it to the right. Still nothing.I frowned and tried again, this time with more force. The knob did not budge.“What the hell?” I muttered under my breath, refusing to believe it. I twisted and pulled, shook the door, hit the panel with the side of my hand. It did not move. “What the fuck!” I yelled, my voice bouncing off the quiet room. I smacked the door with both hands, as the frustration in me increased.Morgan was standing behind me, watching with an irritating calm. “You may have locked it from the outside,” he said.I turned sharply to face him, fuming. “Are you serious right now?” My arms were crossed tightly across my chest. I was seriously holding back the urge to scream. “Did you do this?”He shrugged, and that annoyed me more than anything. His nonchalant attitude made m

Marrissa's point of view Mr Thornhill gave a wonderful speech after the first dance. Morgan looked at me and smiled, then, without a word, he took my hand.The moment he took my hand and led me away from the glowing ballroom, I did not resist. Not because I was still not mad. Oh no, I was furious, but something in his touch made it hard to pull away.His fingers were warm, as if he knew exactly what he was doing.We walked in silence through the quiet hallway, away from the music and laughter. I did not ask where we were going. I didn’t really care. I needed a moment to breathe, to escape all the people congratulating him, calling him “Son of a governor,” like he was royalty. And me—just standing there, smiling politely while he introduced me to everyone as his wife.Wife.I pinched him the first time he said it, hoping it was a mistake. A slip of the tongue, maybe. But he kept doing it. Over and over. “This is my wife, Marrissa.” Like it was the most natural thing in the world.We s

Marrissa's point of view I took my time preparing for the event. Not only because I wanted to impress Morgan and everyone else at Mr Thornhill celebratory, but also because tonight, more than anything, I wanted to feel confident. I wanted to be in control.The deep emerald gown I chose clung to my body in all the right places. It was off-shoulder, with a tasteful slit and a cascading train that followed like a whisper behind me. My hair was styled into a sleek low bun, a few curled strands framing my face. I kept my jewelry simple—just a pair of diamond studs and a thin bracelet that caught the light when I moved.After one last glance in the mirror, I drew in a deep breath. I told myself I was beautifully ready.But nothing could have prepared me for the sight that greeted me the moment I stepped downstairs.Morgan stood at the bottom of the staircase, dressed in a black velvet tuxedo that looked as if it had been tailored just for him. His hair was slicked back neatly, and the glin

Morgan's point of view It was two days to the celebratory party and the mansion felt more alive than usual. Florists walked in and out with different arrangements of flowers. Catering staff bustled in the kitchen, and the faint sound of jazz floated through the hallway from the audio team doing a sound check. Preparations for the celebratory party were in full swing, and somehow, I found myself stuck with Marrissa.Not that I was complaining, far from it. But working this closely with her almost madee insane with want for her.She moved around with quiet control, clipboard in her hand, her brows slightly furrowed in focus as she coordinated the team setting up the ballroom. Her voice was soft, yet firm commanded attention without effort. There was something magnetic about watching her work. It reminded me why she had impressed my father, why she had once captivated me, and why—despite everything—I can not to stay away from her.“Are you going to help or just stand there pretending