MC: Here's a How Not to Survive a Hostage Situation: Don't be me. Rule#1 Don't meet a guy fighting against cutlery. Rule#2 Don't get mistaken for someone with talent when you've absolutely none. Rule#3 Don't let a war, a high-stakes revenge plot, and one human weapon disguised as a person wreck your already failing life. (Oh, and don't expect me to tell you my name. You'll have to earn that.) But if you do? Congrats. You're now in my position-trapped, bleeding, and somehow still expected to be the sane one. Trowa: You're not the sane one. MC: Okay, first of all-rude. Second of all, enter Trowa. Trowa: Don't enter me into this. MC: Sigh. He's a questionable ally who moves people like chess pieces. Trowa: Incorrect. I don't play chess with lives. I just... redecorate the board when necessary. MC: Yeah. That's so much better. He plans. I panic. Together, we're one bad decision away from death. Trowa: Two. I have contingencies. MC: Oh, great. So we die second. Fantastic. And if we survive this, I'm going to need therapy. Trowa: You need therapy even if we don't. ################################## She was supposed to be a bystander. Now, she's bleeding in the middle of a war she doesn't understand. A single step-wrong place, wrong time-and now she's entangled in a brutal game of shifting alliances, weaponized secrets, and people who treat lives like collateral. She wanted quiet. Instead, she's dodging kidnappers, advanced tech, and a human weapon in the shape of a too-strategic ally. The worst part? She is not important-just unlucky. And in this kind of game, even those important don't survive long. ################################## For fans of sarcastic narrators, bad decisions, and humor that's basically Percy Jackson... if he grew up, got more cynical, bled more, and forgot how to run away. ##################################

They call it El Cielo Alto, the high heaven of Manhattan. A world built on luxury the powerful can afford. Vivian Valentine has everything a woman is supposed to want. Beauty that turns heads, a name that opens doors. Marco Valentine, a man who rules the city's elite like a king behind closed doors. To the world, she is his flawless queen: the picture of grace, devotion, and perfection. But beneath the marble floors and diamond chandeliers lies rot. This was not built on love, but on secrets, old, dangerous, and buried deep beneath their marriage vows. They say every sinner has a story. Hers begins the night she stops pretending. Because this isn't salvation, it's damnation dressed in silk. Desire can destroy faster than betrayal, the closer comes to a truth no one dares speak: not all sins are hidden. Some sleep beside you every night. And some the kind you feel in your chest, the kind that make you human are the ones that can't be forgiven. As Vivian's perfect world begins to crumble, she will uncover the truth about her husband and herself. And when the masks come off, she'll find herself standing in the ruins of the life she once worshipped.