Novels by Gbemiè

~Call Bruce~ Elena turned abruptly, her pulse quickening, heart thumping in her chest. For a brief second, fear clouded her eyes—until she recognized the man standing behind her. “Bruce,” she exhaled, placing a hand on her chest. “Did I scare you?” Bruce asked with a crooked smile. She let out a soft laugh, the tension easing from her shoulders. “Just a little.” Bruce was one of her most trusted legal informants, a discreet but sharp-minded ally who had helped her navigate the complex web of documentation surrounding her latest investigation. Without him, she wouldn’t have gotten half as far but this time, she owed all the credits to Clara. Moments later, Elena was dialing the secure number given to her by the person who’d hired her for this job. The meeting was arranged quickly, as usual, in a secret location—a dimly lit layout known only to a handful of operatives. When she arrived, two men were already waiting, disguised as always. They never introduced themselves, an

~I've Got Good News~ Elena stood frozen, her eyes fixed on the door Carlos had just disappeared through. Her pulse raced, her breath shallow. She hadn’t expected to see him here—at least not so suddenly, not without warning. There had been no exchange of words, no confrontation, just the fleeting moment when their eyes met before he turned and walked away, as if he’d seen a ghost. Clara approached, cutting through the club’s smoky haze with the ease of someone who belonged there. Though to others she appeared just another waitress, her role ran much deeper. Clara had been Elena’s eyes and ears inside this place for months now—discreet, reliable, and sharp as a blade. She leaned in close, brushing a hand lightly on Elena’s arm. “We can leave,” she said quietly. Elena nodded, still processing the moment that just happened. Together, they slipped out of the club and into the night, the cool air outside pressing against Elena’s skin like reality reclaiming its hold. The two women m

~Touchè~ Elena sat curled up in the amber colored armchair of her small study, the rim of her coffee cup hovering just beneath her lips. The bitter liquid had long gone cold, but she didn’t notice. Her eyes were fixed on the antique wall clock that ticked steadily in defiance of her rising anxiety. It was already past nine, and there was still nothing. No documents, no message, no confirmation—nothing from Bruce. She was extremely worried and the thought of him calling her sent shivers down her spine. The lamp on her desk cast a soft golden halo over the scattered papers and open folders. In the dim light, the sharp angles of her face were more pronounced, her tired eyes shadowed with worry. Her gaze fell on the worn photograph pinned to the corkboard above her desk—her sister, smiling beside a man whose face had been hastily scratched out in black ink. It was the only thing Elena hadn’t brought herself to throw away. With a weary sigh, she leaned back and rubbed her temples.

~24hrs~ Mateo sat hunched over in a leather chair, a glass of Grappa half-finished on the table beside him. His tailored black shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, and his Sleek black hair hung in front of his eyes as he stared at the silent screen of his phone as if expecting a call. He rubbed his eyes hoping he didn't look as bad as he looked whenever he had sleepless nights. The silence broke suddenly with a sharp buzz. A name flashed across the screen: Elena. He answered without hesitation. "Well?" Mateo's voice was clipped, low, and impatient. On the other end, Elena sighed, tired but composed. "Still working on it." Mateo gritted his teeth. "Elena, you already have enough time.I need results, not excuses." "I'm not a magician,Mister. I'm really trying my best but you have to trust me." Mateo stood up abruptly, pacing the room. His bare feet padded across the cold wooden floor as he ran a hand through his hair. "You’ve got twenty-four hours? After that, I will fi

~A Happy Day For Emily~ “My order is still not here.” Emily muttered bitterly, no matter how upset she was she was too weak to argue. “ All orders are cancelled.” A calm voice replied. The hunger and the annoyance she felt were her motivation to make herself a meal. It was almost dusk and she knew Gael would be home anytime soon. She rushed back to her room, tied up her hair, wore a more comfortable clothing and came back downstairs to the Kitchen without forgetting to put her headphones on. The next couple of minutes were filled with her focused on getting the perfect meal from chopping to stirring. The air was filled with the aroma of garlic, herbs, and something faintly sweet,perhaps the tomatoes she had roasted earlier. She was still focused on her cooking when she felt a hand slipped around her waist from behind. She let out a startled gasp, nearly dropping the wooden spoon in her hand. “Gael!” she exclaimed, her voice was a mix of surprise and relief. He chuckled,

~Tense~ Back at Andrès mansion, Joyce leaned against the doorframe with her arms folded across her chest, quietly watching Andrès. The late afternoon sun spilled through the blinds in streaks, striping across the room and his sharp profile. He was seated at his desk, hunched over a pile of documents, scribbling something down with furrowed brows. His eyes looked so calm but there was something detached in it. For days, she had noticed it. The silence. The odd pauses. The fake smiles. She could tell something was definitely off. "You know," she started, her voice breaking the silence, "this is, like, the fourth time this week you skipped lunch. That’s a tragic behavior for someone who used to steal my fries." Andrès blinked up, caught off guard, then chuckled under his breath. "My bad. Guess I got caught up." Joyce stepped into the room, her heels making a soft thud on the marble floor. She circled the desk slowly, like a curious cat, her fingers brushing the edge. "Caught up?