Novels by Ben Fatima

Ethan stared at the thugs through the bulletproof glass, his jaw tightening with each passing second. Something had changed inside him over the past few days—something fundamental. The old Ethan would have cowered in the car, waited for rescue, played it safe like he'd always done.But that Ethan was dead. He'd died in that bedroom watching Vanessa betray him. He'd been buried alongside his mother's defiled grave.The man sitting in this car now was different. Sharper. Colder. Born from rage and inheritance and a legacy he'd only just begun to understand.He was the Kidman heir. And Kidman heirs didn't hide."Young master, no—" James began.Ethan's hand was already on the door handle."Wait! Miss Rebecca specifically ordered—"The door swung open."—that you stay in the vehicle," James finished weakly, his face pale with horror.Ethan stepped out onto the empty highway, the afternoon sun warm on his face. The wind carried the salt smell of the nearby ocean. The thugs' laughter and cru

The Mercedes glided through the city streets, leaving Riverside Plaza and Charlotte's mocking words far behind. Ethan stared out the window, watching the urban landscape shift from commercial districts to upscale residential areas. He needed to focus on practical matters now. A place to live. A base of operations for whatever came next."James," he said finally, breaking the silence. "Take me to the best residential area in the city. I need to find a place to stay."James glanced at him through the rearview mirror. "The Oceanview district would be your best option, young master. Luxury properties along the coast. Very exclusive.""That sounds perfect.""It will require taking the coastal highway. Approximately forty minutes from here.""That's fine."James nodded and adjusted their route. The buildings gradually became more sparse as they left the city center behind, heading toward the waterfront properties that only the wealthiest could afford.Twenty minutes later, the landscape had

Ethan shook his head, leaning back against the leather seat with a weary sigh. There was no point trying to explain anything to Charlotte. She'd already made up her mind about who he was—a calculating fraud with rented cars and hired actors. Let her believe it. It didn't matter."James, let's go," he said quietly.The driver nodded and was about to close the door when Charlotte suddenly lunged forward, slipping into the back seat beside Ethan before anyone could stop her."What are you doing?" Ethan's voice was flat with disbelief.Charlotte settled into the seat, smoothing her navy dress with hands that trembled slightly. "Taking you up on your offer to leave.""I didn't offer—""You're leaving. I'm leaving. Same direction." Charlotte's tone was defensive, sharp. "What's the problem?""The problem is you have your own car.""Which is in the garage. On the other side of the estate. Where my entire family is currently gathered, waiting to see if I actually left with you or if I'm crawl

Ethan heard the whispers trailing after him as he walked through the foyer—Gerald's mocking theories, Manu's bitter agreement, the scattered murmurs of family members who'd gathered to witness the spectacle. Their voices blended into white noise, meaningless static he'd learned to tune out years ago."Young master?" James stood by the entrance, his expression professionally neutral despite the chaos."Let's go," Ethan said simply.He'd barely taken three steps when he heard the sharp click of heels behind him. Charlotte was following, her arm still loosely linked with his, her posture defiant despite the uncertainty in her eyes."Charlotte—" Anthony's voice called from behind them."Let her go," Vincent said quietly. "She's made her choice."Ethan glanced at Charlotte, noting the flush in her cheeks, the way her jaw was set with stubborn determination. She was still playing her part, still using him as a shield against Manu and her family's expectations.He shook his head helplessly.

The dining hall remained frozen in stunned silence as James's footsteps faded toward the entrance. Every face wore the same expression—shock mixed with confusion, disbelief warring with the evidence of their own eyes.Anthony Bianco was the first to speak, his voice trembling. "Did that man just call him 'young master'?""He did," Margaret whispered, her hand pressed against her chest. "And that suit—did you see that suit? That was custom tailored. Easily ten thousand dollars.""More than that," Vincent said quietly from the doorway. "Fifteen, minimum. James works for very exclusive clientele.""But how?" Anthony's face was pale. "The boy arrived in a taxi! He admitted he was unemployed! He said he came from an ordinary family!""Maybe we misjudged—" Margaret began."Oh, please."The new voice cut through the room like a knife. Everyone turned to see Gerald Bianco—Anthony's younger brother—leaning against the far wall with his arms crossed and a smirk on his face.Gerald had always be

Charlotte's mind raced as Manu's cruel words echoed in her ears. Women like you always end up alone. The arrogance. The entitlement. The assumption that she needed him, that she should be grateful for his attention.Her eyes darted around the sitting room, desperate for an escape, for anything that would shut him up and prove him wrong. Then she saw movement through the doorway—someone in the dining hall across the foyer.Ethan.He was still there, sitting quietly at the far end of the long dining table, seemingly unbothered by the chaos erupting around him. A plate of food sat before him—he must have asked the staff for something while waiting for his ride. He ate slowly, methodically, as if he had all the time in the world.Charlotte didn't think. She just moved."Actually, Manu," she said, her voice suddenly bright with false cheer, "I can't go to the opera with you because I already have plans. With my boyfriend."The room froze."Your... what?" Margaret's voice came out as a stra