Novels by Chithority

(Sabatine’s POV)Chicago.The city pulsed with energy, cars honking, people moving in fast, purposeful strides, sirens crying in the distance, but inside me, there was nothing but hollow quiet.I had flown in earlier that morning, eyes bleary and body running on nerves and too much coffee. This trip wasn’t a choice, it was survival. My company was flailing, bleeding at the seams, and this meeting… it might be my last shot at saving it.Everything rode on one man. Stanley Woods.He was a giant in the business world, with a reputation built on fear, brilliance, and ruthless precision. If I could win him over, secure even a fraction of his influence, I might just pull us back from the edge.My assistant had set it all up, weeks of back and forth, confirmations, reminders. I’d rehearsed my pitch until I could deliver it in my sleep. I’d revised the slides, tweaked the figures, and polished the projections. Every word, every visual, tailored to him.And now, I was here. Standing in the sle

(Evelyn's POV)The sky stretched above us in a soft, pale hue, like a sheet of watercolored silk draped over the world. The car moved steadily, gliding past familiar clusters of trees and unfamiliar streets that blurred into the edges of memory. I sat quietly in the back seat, hands clasped loosely in my lap, a hush of anticipation fluttering between my ribs and echoing with every slow beat of my heart. It wasn’t dread. Not entirely. It was something deeper, restless and uncertain.Liam drove, his hands steady on the wheel, his eyes flickering to the rearview mirror every few minutes. Watchful, like always. He didn’t say much, but his presence filled the space, protective, grounding. He’d offered to drive without needing to ask why. He just knew.We were headed to Chicago. Not for a vacation or a business trip. This was for Mia, her remembrance, her absence wrapped in ceremony and silence.It didn’t feel real.Even after all this time, it still felt like a chapter I had read too man

(Vanessa’s POV)I stood at the edge of the rooftop garden, the breeze tugging softly at my hair as I held the phone to my ear. Below, the city hummed with life, cars weaving through streets, voices rising from open windows, but I barely noticed. The sun was beginning its descent, spilling golden light across the skyline like molten glass. Everything shimmered with beauty, but none of it reached me."Yes… thank you for sticking to the deal," I said, my voice calm and even. "They’ll be released this evening. You kept your end of the bargain, and so will I."A brief silence lingered on the other end, heavy and deliberate, before the line clicked off. Just like that.I lowered my hand, slipped the phone into my coat pocket, and stood still, letting the quiet wash over me. My gaze remained fixed on the horizon, but I wasn’t seeing any of it. The release wasn’t an act of mercy. It wasn’t forgiveness. It was simply the end of a transaction. Closure, not compassion. I didn’t need leverage ove

( Sebastian POV)On my way home, I found myself turning off the main road without thinking. One moment, I was driving past familiar buildings, replaying the conversation I'd just had in my head, and the next, my car had slipped into a small parking lot beside a bright, cheery-looking store with cartoon stickers on the glass windows.A kids’ store.I sat behind the wheel for a moment, staring at the entrance. I hadn’t planned this. I wasn’t even sure what made me turn. But something had pulled me here, quiet and insistent. Maybe it was the memory of her laugh. Or maybe it was the way she clung to me earlier, so easily, like I was already someone she trusted.Before I could second-guess myself, I stepped out of the car.The bell over the door jingled as I walked in, and suddenly I was surrounded, shelves of pastel onesies, racks of tiny jeans and frilly dresses, little shoes lined up like toys. The air smelled faintly like baby powder and plastic, and the colors, so many of them, felt l

( Sebastian pov)Evening couldn’t come fast enough.Time stretched itself thin, like taffy pulled too far and refusing to snap. Every tick of the clock echoed louder than it should have. Each passing hour dragged like an anchor tied to my thoughts, weighing me down as the day inched forward.Meetings came and went, their content dissolving into static. Faces blurred. Voices became background noise, like the hum of a refrigerator you only notice when everything else goes silent. I nodded when required, offered clipped responses when prompted, but my presence was a ghost, my body in one place, my mind elsewhere entirely.Back to the result.I’d told Dr. Jude I would come pick it up myself. I don’t know why I insisted. Maybe it was a need for control, some desperate attempt to own the truth before it owned me. Or maybe I believed that seeing the paper, holding it in my hands, would somehow make it more bearable. Less real. Less final.By the time I stepped out of the office, the sun had

(Evelyn pov)The scent of freshly brewed coffee wrapped around me like a soft hug, drifting through the air and mingling with the faint citrus notes of the cleaning spray from earlier. The warm mug sat snug between my palms as I stirred a generous spoonful of honey into the rich liquid, watching the golden stream swirl and melt away. A quiet sigh escaped my lips as I leaned against the edge of the table in my office, letting the gentle warmth seep into my hands, hoping it would somehow reach my chest too.Mornings like this used to mean something, a sliver of stillness before the storm of the day. Peaceful. Predictable. But lately, they only served as fleeting distractions, temporary veils draped over the chaos I refused to name. I stared at the cup a second longer before taking a small sip, letting the sweetness linger on my tongue.Then, I heard the door click open behind me. Not hurried. Not hesitant. Just familiar. Too familiar.“You’re late,” I said, not bothering to turn around