Novels by Tony's ink

For a fraction of a second, Ivy's mind went completely blank–a clear uncharacteristic lapse for someone who lived and breathed negotiations. She had prepared for numbers, even veiled hostility. But not...this. "My relationship?" she echoed, buying herself even more time as she carefully set her coffee cup down. Her fingers betrayed her slightly as it tightened around the porcelain. She forced them to relax. Dominic Santiago watched her with patience, his expression open but attentive. But he didn't press. He just waited to see what she would reveal. "Well," Ivy began slowly, carefully choosing her words, "our marriage was arranged by our elders. A sort of strategic union." She let out a soft, self-conscious breath. "We hadn't met properly before the engagement. Not in a meaningful sense, that is."Dominic nodded once, neither approving nor disapproving. He seemed to be merely acknowledging. "Go on," he said. The simplicity of it unsettled her more than any sharp business interr

Blacksite Ops building rose clean and precise against the skyline. There were no garnish logos or excessive security displayed to intimidate visitors. Ivy's heels clicked softly against the marble floor of the lobby, each step of hers seeming louder than it should have. The space was vast but quiet, the air conditioned to an almost surgical chill. Everyone moved with purpose–men and women in perfectly tailored suits, armed with tablets, comms, and eyes that seemed to miss nothing. She inhaled once, steadying herself. This was Dominic Santiago's domain. Stealing a glance at Derrick, she noticed how he looked entirely unbothered. His hands were in his pockets, his posture relaxed in a way that made her somewhat irritated. He made it seem like this was just another regular office building, as if the weight of the last twenty-four hours had not put a blade to his throat. They had barely taken more than five steps inside when it happened. "Good morning, boss." The greeting came quit

The silence that followed Derrick's declaration was one of disbelief. Even Madam Lorenzo didn't speak. Her eyes remained fixed on Derrick, as though she were weighing him the way one might assess the capacity of an unfamiliar weapon–deciding whether it would cut clean or turn in the hand and draw blood. She managed to clear her throat. "And what opportunity are we talking about here?" "Blacksite Ops," Derrick replied calmly, his voice steady enough to anchor the large room. "The company is actively seeking a strategic partner. Equity sharing. Talking of long-term cooperation here."Just then, Moses let out a sharp, humourless laugh from the floor. "Now I believe he's lost his freaking mind," he sneered, pushing himself up one elbow. "The last time I checked, Blacksite Ops is owned by the one and only Dominic Santiago. He isn't one to partner with groups like the Lorenzo's. You think you can just walk in and–"The rest of his words were perfectly crushed out of him. Derrick's boot

Ivy didn't hesitate to step forward, placing herself squarely between Moses and Derrick. "He's my husband," she said with a lifted chin. Moses froze as the words landed on him like a dropped crystal. Then his mouth parted slightly, eyes flicking from Ivy to Derrick as if reassessing an invisible chessboard that had just rearranged itself without warning. "Your husband?" he repeated, totally incredulous. "Yes," Ivy replied, her eyes never leaving him. "Legally. Do you have any problem with that? " She saw a raw, undisguised panic in his eyes, and she watched him spin toward the others, voice rising. "Who allowed this?" he demanded. "Who the hell approved her marriage? On what grounds did anyone here think it was acceptable to marry her off without consulting me?" His gaze snapped from face to face in an accusatory manner. "Did none of you think about the consequences?" The room stirred uneasy, and Ivy's parents exchanged a look. But Madam Lorenzo instantly slammed

The Lorenzo family study was vast, lined wall to wall with sturdy dark wood shelves filled with ledgers, contracts, and leather-bound volumes that smelled faintly of age and a great deal of polish. Heavy curtains muted whatever lights would have come from outside, leaving the room bathed in a low amber glow from the expensive chandelier overhead.It was the kind of room built for making decisions that ruined or built business empires.At the center of the room stood Madam Lorenzo. Her back was rigid, one hand braced against the edge of the long table. Across from her was Moses–Ivy's cousin and her grandson. Around him sat his mother, Ivy's parents, and other members of the Lorenzo family. Only Pa Lorenzo and Ivy were absent at the time.Moses stood tall, chin lifted in stubborn defiance, and suit rumpled in a way that spoke of everything but honest work. Papers were scattered across the long table–balance sheets, transfer documents, and deeds bearing the unmistakable seals of the Lo

Ivy's parents turned and walked quietly into their room. "Come upstairs," Ivy said without glancing at Derrick.She didn't wait to see if he would follow. She simply turned and started climbing the stairs, one hand grazing the banister as though grounding herself in the familiar grooves of the house. Derrick fell into step behind her, his presence steady but unreadable. She felt it, then heaved a quiet sigh. "My grandfather stepped down years ago," she began as they walked. Her voice came off even and controlled, more like she was reciting facts rather than exposing the spine of her family. "Officially, he's retired. Unofficially...he still sees everything." Derrick was attentive. "He has three sons," she continued. "My father included. But none of them ever learnt the business properly. They only live off their shares, attend a few board meetings, and argue about legacies they aren't ready to earn." She took a breath and rubbed the banister stylishly before going on. "In my ge