Novels by Tholanez

  A major client had threatened to pull their account. A software glitch had wiped out two days of critical data. Back-to-back meetings bled into late nights, and by Thursday, I had consumed more coffee than sleep and was running on pure adrenaline. Enzo and I had barely had a moment alone. We passed each other in hallways with quick, meaningful glances. He sent texts that I couldn't properly answer until after midnight, when I was too exhausted to form complete sentences. One night, he called at 11pm, and I fell asleep mid-sentence. He told me the next morning that he'd stayed on the line for an hour, just listening to me breathe. It was sweet. It was also torture. By Friday afternoon, I was desperate. Not just for him—though God knew I was desperate for him—but for five minutes of peace. Five minutes to remember that I was a woman in love, not just a machine that produced spreadsheets and answered emails. I was heading to the thirty-second floor to drop off a report when the ...

  The rooftop confession made me feel excited and scared at the same time. We had crossed a line, and there was no going back. But as much as I wanted to believe in the future he’d promised, the reality of our situation was never far from my mind. The next day, we were scheduled to meet with a potential client a powerful woman named Victoria who had the connections to make or break the deal. I’d done my research, but nothing could have prepared me for the way she looked at Enzo. The meeting took place in a sleek, modern office overlooking Central Park. Victoria was everything I had expected polished, confident, and strikingly beautiful. She greeted Enzo with a warm smile and a handshake that stayed just a little too long. “Enzo, it’s been too long,” Victoria said, her voice smooth and inviting. “Victoria,” Enzo replied, his tone polite but professional. “This is Amara Johnson, our Marketing Director.” Victoria turned to me, her smile never wavering. “A pleasure to meet you, Amara.”...

  New York City was bright below us, covered in lights and busy with life. The rooftop bar was quiet, the cool night breeze carrying the faint sounds of the city up to where we stood. We’d slipped away from the post-meeting dinner, the weight of our secret pulling us together like a magnet. I leaned against the railing, my glass of wine in hand, staring out at the skyline. Enzo stood beside me, his presence a steady warmth against the chill of the night. We hadn’t spoken much since the meeting, the tension between us thick and unspoken. “It’s beautiful,” I said softly, breaking the silence. “It is,” Enzo replied, but when I glanced at him, I realised he wasn’t looking at the skyline. He was looking at me. My breath hitched, and I turned back to the view, my heart pounding. “Enzo, we shouldn’t be up here alone. What if someone sees us?” “Let them see,” he said, his voice low and intense. I turned to face him, my eyes wide. “You don’t mean that.” “I do,” he said, stepping closer. “I’...

  Back in New York, the reality of our situation hit me like a ton of bricks. We slipped back into our professional roles, but the memory of Italy hung between us like a forbidden secret, sweet and heavy. The chemistry was a live wire we couldn't seem to stop touching, and before I knew it, we'd fallen into a rhythm of stolen moments and late-night calls. The first one came a few nights after we returned. I was lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, when my phone lit up with his name. My heart did that annoying little flip it always does for him. “Hello?” “Hey.” His voice was low, a smooth rumble that sent a familiar shiver straight down my spine. “I couldn’t sleep. I was thinking about you.” A smile tugged at my lips. “I was thinking about you, too.” We talked for hours. It was easy, effortless. We floated from shop talk to old stories, and always, always back to Rome. In the dark, with just his voice in my ear, it was simple to forget the rules, to forget the risk. The world s...