romanwrites

When Silas was thirteen, his world broke. His mother died — suddenly, quietly — and left him with no one. No family. No friends. No place to go.

Then Corvin Thorne showed up. A man Silas barely knew. A man who didn’t want him, but wouldn’t let the foster system take him either.

Corvin took Silas in, locked him away in a cold house, and gave him one rule: survive.

But Silas knows the silence hides something darker. Secrets about his mother’s death. Shadows that watch from the locked basement. And a man who’s trying so hard not to want him — but can’t help it.

Now Silas is eighteen. Not a kid anymore. But trapped in a house full of secrets… and a man whose control is slipping.

There’s danger here. There’s desire too. And Silas is about to find out that love and obsession aren’t always easy to tell apart.

If you open this book, be ready — because nothing is what it seems.

My Mom's Ex-lover Who Raised Me Wants Me Now.

Room dark. Hoodie half-off. Eliot's blanket tangled around his legs. Mouth dry like sandpaper. First thought—Corvin.

He sat up slow. Blinking. No Eliot.

He climbed off the bed, feet cold on the tile. Rain still tapping the window. Outside looked foggy, heavy, off.

A voice, muffled through the door: "Silas… open up. We just wanna talk."

Not Eliot. Not Corvin. Too calm. Too fake calm.

"Silas. You in there?" Another knock. Slower. Deliberate.

He looked around—no weapon, no plan. Grabbed Eliot's lamp, yanked the cord out.

His pulse crashed like waves. Whole body locked up.

He ran. Into the bathroom. Locked it. Slid down the door, holding that damn lamp like it could save his life.

Silas burst out the bathroom. "Don't EVER leave me like that again."

Eliot dropped his snacks. "Shit, what happened?"

"Someone was here. At the door. They knew my name. They were tryna get in."

They ran to the door. Hallway? Empty.

"No." Silas stopped him. "I can't."

"What the hell do you mean can't?"

Silas looked at him, chest still rising too fast. "If cops get involved… Corvin's name gets dragged in. I don't wanna ruin him."

Eliot blinked. "Ruin? After everything? Dude's kissin' you one minute, caging you the next."

Silas sat down, head in hands. "You don't get it. I don't hate him. That's the fucked up part."

Eliot sat next to him. Quiet for a sec. Then—"Do you even trust him?"

Corvin stood on a rooftop. Rain hitting his coat. City spread out beneath like it meant nothing.

Phone to his ear. Voice sharp. "I got the court notice. They're making moves. Real ones."

Other voice, muffled. Deep. "We told you this would happen if you got attached."

"They'll say he's unstable. That he belongs in care. That you aren't capable."

Corvin's jaw clenched. "I'll burn the whole damn system down before they touch him."

The voice said: "You forgot the rules. You gave him your name. Now the Argent Order's watching."

Voice behind him: "Still dramatic as ever, huh?"

Man in a black coat. Older. Scar over one brow. Smirking.

"Long time, Corvin. Still chasing ghosts?"

Corvin didn't blink. "Why are you here, Maddox?"

Maddox grinned. "To remind you… Silas Vale was never meant to survive."

You Promised Me Safe.