Novels by Mus Story

The old-world dignity of Elias Houston’s office provided a contrast to the modern-day desperation settling over him like a shroud. He was a man accustomed to solvency, to the clean, predictable rhythm of honest enterprise.But now, at seventy-two, the stress of keeping Houston Petrochemicals afloat was visibly aging him, etching deep lines of worry around his eyes and slowing the steady rhythm of his breathing. The desk in front of him, a sturdy, worn testament to decades of hard work, now seemed to mock him, piled high with overdue invoices that threatened to swallow his family legacy whole."You look dreadful, Elias. You haven't slept, have you?" Martha, his trusted accountant and a woman whose loyalty had been as steadfast as his own business principles, remarked, her concern palpable in the quiet office.Elias waved a dismissive hand, the gesture weary. "Sleep is a luxury Oliver Reed has ensured I cannot afford, Martha. He treats our payments like mere suggestions, like pocket cha

The scent of freshly brewed coffee and high-stakes strategy filled the air in Ashton’s study. Midnight had long passed, but the large glistening desk was covered in printed financial reports and corporate structures belonging to Reed Corp, lit starkly by the single task lamp. Ashton, looking impeccably weary, was flanked by two of his most trusted financial analysts.Avery sat slightly apart, nursing a cup of tea, trying to decipher the complex terminology thrown back and forth across the table. She felt like an observer in a high-security war room, yet she knew her presence was essential."The numbers confirm the vulnerability, Mr. Knight," said Ben, the lead analyst, tapping a holographic projection displaying Reed Corp’s supply chain. "Their recent dip is accelerating. We’ve identified twenty-three non-core assets we could liquidate or acquire, crippling their cash flow further.""Which one is the most critical? The one that creates the most chaos without direct legal action?" Asht

Ashton stood before the floor-to-ceiling window of his private study in the mansion, a glass of untouched whiskey on his desk. The city lights below were a silent, sprawling galaxy of lives that knew nothing of the storm he was about to unleash. The mechanisms were in motion, the first silent attacks scheduled to begin before dawn. Yet, he felt no sense of victory. Only an unsettling quiet.The door opened with a soft click. He didn't need to turn. The very air in the room changed when she entered, the silence softening, warming. Avery padded in, holding two mugs. She was wearing a soft, oversized cashmere sweater that he recognized as his own, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. The gentle, calming scent of chamomile tea followed her into the room.She said nothing, simply walked to his side and stood next to him, her shoulder almost brushing his arm as she followed his gaze out into the night.“You can’t sleep either,” she stated, her voice a quiet murmur that didn’t disturb the pe

Avery was still staring at the glowing screen, at the plan for annihilation laid bare, and felt a tremor of fear mixed with a potent, unfamiliar surge of power. She closed her eyes for a while. The imagination about young Julian, and Adelia’s bright future just appeared uninvited. All her doubts were gone.“Don’t worry, Aver. Alistair is the best litigator in the country,” Ashton said, breaking the silence. He hadn’t moved from his chair beside her. “If he says this is the only way, then this is the only way.” As if he could read her mind.“I know,” Avery whispered. “It just feels so… big. Like we’re planning to topple a small country.”“We are,” Ashton replied, his voice a calm certainty. “And everyone will have their part to play. I will lead the financial assault. I will be the ghost in their machine. My analysts are ready. Alistair will handle the legal shields. My PR team will handle the media attacks. Clara is secure. Elena is back in her role, our eyes and ears.”He paused, tur

“Lose?” The word escaped Avery’s lips as a shocked, breathless whisper. “How? How could we possibly lose? We have proof she’s a monster. We have proof she’s a criminal.” Her eyes widen in disbelief.Ashton’s grip on her hand was the only thing keeping her grounded. “Avery, just listen to him. Let him explain.”“You are thinking about justice,” Alistair said, his eyes filled with the weary wisdom of a thousand legal defeats and victories. “I am thinking about Rose Reed. The moment we walk into a D.A.’s office, we are no longer in control. The system takes over. And Rose Reed owns pieces of that system. She will unleash a legal and media firestorm the likes of which you have never seen.”He began to tick points off on his fingers. “One: she will file a dozen motions to suppress the evidence. She will claim the search of her safe was illegal, a corporate espionage job, making the financial data inadmissible. Two: she will bury Clara in a blizzard of depositions so brutal and invasive tha

“The quality is remarkable.”Mr. Alistair’s gravelly baritone cut through the 2 AM silence of the Knight Corp boardroom. The words were directed at Ashton, but his sharp, analytical eyes were fixed on the tablet in front of him. Avery sat beside Ashton at the vast, polished obsidian table, a mug of chamomile tea clutched in her hands, its warmth a small anchor in the overwhelming room.“Our source is to be commended for her composure under pressure,” Alistair continued, not looking up. “My tech team finished authenticating the images an hour ago. They are pristine. Irrefutable.”He swiped a finger across his screen, and the massive monitor at the end of the room came to life. Columns of numbers, names of offshore entities, transaction dates, and damning memos filled the screen. It was the detailed anatomy of a corrupt empire, laid bare for them to see.“So, that’s it, then?” Avery asked, her voice sounding small and fragile in the cavernous space. “We have everything we need already.”