Novels by Chris Muna

Chloe awoke to the softness of luxurious sheets against her skin. The room she was in was not her own. Not the cheap motel she had sometimes stayed in when she needed to escape reality but a beautiful sanctuary full of history and glamour. Every corner of the room was shrouded in shadows, each hiding its own secret. As her eyes adjusted to the dim, warm glow seeping through the half-closed velvet curtains, everything looked red, like spilled wine. Disoriented, she sat up slowly, her hair a wild mess around her face, tangled with remnants of her dreams. Then the door creaked open softly. Cordelia floated into the room. She was dressed in shimmering black silk that sparkled like the night sky. Her brown streaked hair was neatly pinned up, showing off her poise. Chloe recognized her from previous encounters, always the poised figure who seemed perfectly attuned to Valerius's every desire. Was she merely an assistant, servant, or something else entirely? “Good evening,” Cordeli

The marble floors glistened beneath Chloe’s boots as she stepped into the heart of the luxury mall. She moved slowly, carefully, like someone stepping into a dream they didn’t quite believe was real. High ceilings, soft piano music in the background, glass storefronts showcasing mannequins draped in clothing that cost more than her life savings. This wasn’t just a mall. It was a temple for the rich. And Chloe was a stranger at the altar. Upon entering one particular store, her breath slipped away. A rush of cool air brushed over her bare arms, and the scent washed over her like an intoxicating wave. It wasn’t perfume or air freshener; it was the aroma of wealth soft leather, zesty citrus, freshly steamed linen, and whatever elusive fragrance the rich inhaled to remind themselves they’re better. Shelves of sleek handbags gleamed as if they were sacred artifacts, and dresses hung like masterpieces in an art gallery, untouched and revered. She took a tentative step closer, drawn

The gates of the mansion opened automatically as she approached. This time, she didn’t hesitate. She climbed the winding path, each step feeling more surreal than the last. The silence of the estate weighed heavier in the daylight, every stone and shadow whispering secrets she couldn’t decipher. The same woman greeted her at the door, but this time wore an emerald green gown that shimmered slightly as she moved. She didn’t speak. She only nodded, eyes calm, and gestured for Chloe to follow. The hallway seemed longer than before. The shadows clung to the walls. The scent, rich sandalwood mixed with something darker—seeped into her skin. Everything about this place disoriented her senses, like she was walking through a dream that refused to explain itself. When she entered the candlelit chamber, Valerius was already waiting, this time standing beside a small table. On it sat a single glass of red wine and a silver tray covered with a cloth. “I didn’t think I’d come back,” Chloe

It began with silence. Then shadows. Chloe stood in a vast, endless space. There were no walls, no ceiling just thick darkness, as if the world had been turned off. Her bare feet touched nothing. She spun slowly, trying to find a path, a shape, something to hold onto. Then came the white cloud. It hovered a few feet away from her, shapeless and swirling, glowing faintly. It looked like smoke and silk and soft fog all at once. It had no face, no body. But it had a voice. And it sounded like her own thoughts. Familiar. Intimate. “Tell me about today,” it whispered. Chloe blinked. “What?” “Tell me what happened. Don’t lie.” She hesitated, then sighed. “I went to the mansion.” The cloud shimmered, as if pleased. “And?” “I don’t know who he is. But he made me feel…” She blushed. “He made me feel things. Deep things.” “You liked it,” the voice said with a slow curl of pleasure. “Your body still remembers. You’re wet just talking about it.” Chloe scoffed, glancing

Valerius stepped behind her, and the moment the blindfold touched her skin, it was as if the world narrowed to the thrum of her pulse. The silk slid across her forehead, tying behind her head with a delicate, final pull. Darkness enveloped her, soft and complete, heightening everything else, her hearing, her breath, the sudden rawness of her own body standing exposed to the unseen. The air moved around her. She felt him, even though he hadn’t laid a single finger on her. The weight of his gaze, if he was even looking was heavier than hands. She could feel her heart beating in her throat. Then his voice came. Low. Velvet-dark. “Breathe.” She did. “Slower.” She tried, but her chest was already rising too quickly, heat flooding her limbs like wine. “You’re not in danger,” he said, tone calm, coaxing. “You’re being studied. Heard. Worshipped. You’ve stepped out of the world… and into mine.” He moved around her, she heard nothing, but she knew. A shift in pressure, the wa

The mansion sat like a secret carved into the hillside, half-swallowed by the fog that clung to the trees like a living thing. Its windows glowed with a soft, golden pulse, warm, inviting, and yet somehow ominous. It wasn’t just a building. It was a presence. Watching. Chloe stood at the foot of the long, winding stone driveway, her breath caught somewhere between awe and anxiety. The iron gates had closed behind her the moment she passed through them silently, without a creak or warning. A chill moved down her spine as if the air itself had changed the moment she entered the estate grounds. She adjusted the hem of her black dress, the one she saved for job interviews and funerals. Tight in the right places, modest where it needed to be, but now it felt flimsy and insubstantial against the weight of the place. The mansion was beautiful, yes but it radiated power, age, secrecy. Her heels clicked against the stone path as she walked, each step louder than the last in the thick silen