Novels by MM de Wet

The waiter arrives with water and bread, and Oliver seamlessly shifts back into his composed self, ordering for both of them with efficient precision. "Osso buco for me, and the lasagna al forno for her," he adds, nodding to the waiter as the man scribbles on his pad and disappears back toward the kitchen. Oliver settles back into his chair, his posture relaxing just a fraction now that they are out of the public eye. He picks up the small olive oil bottle and places it in the centre of the table, adjusting its position by a millimetre so it sits perfectly parallel to the breadbasket. "You know," he says, his gaze dropping to the candle between them, "I was thinking about what you said earlier. About Knox loving your idea." He looks up, his icy blue eyes searching hers. "He is a difficult man to please. He will argue with anyone just for the sake of hearing his own voice. If he actually listened to you, it means you have found a way to speak his language without compromising your ow

Oliver stops walking for a brief second, his eyebrows lifting in genuine surprise. He lets out a short, quiet laugh– the kind he only does when he is genuinely impressed. “Side by side shots,” he repeats, testing the concept. “That is clever. It creates a narrative arc within the campaign itself. It shows the brand’s versatility and its ability to handle different moods.” He resumes walking, his stride picking up speed as the idea takes hold of his analytical mind. “Knox will hate it because it ruins his ‘perfect lighting’ fantasy, but Marius will love the efficiency of it. It maximizes out shooting windows and gives us two distinct visual directions for the price of one.” He glances at Harper, his blue eyes bright with approval. “You just dismantled his entire creative pitch with a single logistical argument. That is exactly what I need from you in that boardroom later.”“Knox actually loved the id

Oliver’s phone buzzes on the desk with a message from Harper.Harper: I am at my desk. The proposal outline is taking shape. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. He types back quickly.Oliver: Good. Keep pushing. I will see you at lunch. The rest of the morning passes in a blur of emails, spreadsheets, and the rhythmic clicking of his keyboard. Oliver works with a singular focus, his mind a well-oiled machine processing date and drafting responses. Every few minutes, his icy blue eyes drift toward the door, half-expecting Knox to burst back in with another dramatic grievance but he does not. At 11:45, he stands up and adjusts his tie in the small mirror behind his office door. He takes a moment to smooth down his hair, ensuring not a single strand is out of place. The professional mask is firmly back on. He walks out of his office and heads toward the elevator, his pace steady and p

Knox was practically vibrating in his chair. “And ah’ll start pullin’ thegither some reference images fer the ‘stormy’ aesthetic. We need mood boards fer the dark lightin’ an aw. It is a whole new chapter.” He glanced at Harper with a grin. “Ye’re stayin’ on the project, right? Ah dinnae want anybody else layin’ their hands on these notes.” Marius looked up from his paper, catching her eye. “She is staying right where she is, Knox. She is too valuable to lose now.” She smiled lightly. “I am not going anywhere,” she said proudly. “Though we should discuss the type of models to use. Knox, you said you wanted curvy, natural beauty models…” Knox’s eyes lit up again, his enthusiasm seemingly bottomless. “Aye! Exactly! Ah want skin that looks real, no plastic. Ah want bodies that tell a story, no just mannequins on a runway. The curves, the texture—it needs

Harper came into Marius’s office with with three printed and bound documents in her hands. She smiled lightly when she saw Knox. “Morning,” she said in a friendly tone of voice. “Excited for the meeting?” Knox looked up at her, his face brightening instantly. “Harper! The wummin o’ the hour,” he declared, reaching out to take one of the documents with an appreciative flourish. “Ye’re a lifesaver, truly. I dinnae ken how anyone gets by without someone like you keepin’ the wheels turnin’.” He flipped through the first few pages, his eyes darting across the visuals with intense focus. “Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Ye’ve got impeccable timin’.” Marius leaned back watching the interaction with a small, amused smile. He appreciated how she managed to handle Knox’s high energy without being overwhelmed by it. “She is more that helpful, Knox,” Marius added, gesturing towar

Harper placed the takeaway coffee cup on Marius desk and said professionally, “I can’t say I know everyone’s names, but I understand my role. I already prepared the proposed budget for Knox’s campaign. Andrew from accounting would like to discuss something and asked for an appointment today.” He leaned back, impressed despite himself. He had not expected much more than a few introductions and some trouble finding the printer, let alone a prepared budget. “You have been busy then,” he said, his yellow green eyes scanning the folder she had placed on his desk. “I like that. Efficiency is exactly what this department needs right now.” He pulled the budget toward him, flipping through the pages with practiced ease. “As for Andrew from accounting– he is always looking for something to discuss. Tell him I can do three o’clock. I want to get through Knox’s briefing first.”Marius looked up from the p

Hesitantly, Escuro drank and nothing happened. The courtyard fell into an absolute, suffocating silence. The dock workers stared, their mechanical breathing the only sound against the backdrop of the crashing surf. Estrela’s jaw tightened. Her light green eyes narrowed, scanning Escuro’s face for any sign of deception– a tremor in his hands, a flush in her cheeks, anything. But her stood there defiant and unchanged. “Impossible,” she breathed. “You are lying,” Estrela said, her voice trembling with a rage she could no longer hide behind her calm façade. Estrela stepped toward Escuro, her movements jagged and uncoordinated for the first time since she had changed. “My mother is a high priestess of the order of Gan,” he said standing tall. “I have been blessed with the ability to resist all forms of magic and curses.” The dock workers’ collective gaze shifted from his to her. For the fi

As the water touched Salvaxe’s skin, he felt something. Like a shadow crawling up his back. He managed to place the girl on the floor before his body went still. His body locked tight, his muscles seizing into a rigid statue. His eyes remained wide, fixed on the girl he had just pulled from the water, but they were vacant– the light in them dimming like a candle being smothered. The girl on the floor began to cough– a wet, rattling sound– her skin turned a pale purple. This shocked Estrela. Salvaxe did not recover either, his skin going pale yellow as he stood frozen and stiff beside the fountain. Estrela’s body moved to the fountain, her eyes darting between their seizing girl and the frozen Salvaxe. “What is this?” she demanded, her voice cracking. “They are impure,” she announced. Escuro’s blood ran cold. He looked from Salvaxe’s rigid, unblinking face to the girl gasping for air on the stone floor, then

Salvaxe walked over to the cable, crouching beside it. He reached out and touched the thick, braided material. It was not hemp or rope– it felt like something organic, cold and slightly rubbery, pulsing with a faint, internal rhythm. “You are right about that,” he said, pulling his hand back. “It is not just a cable. It is like a vein.” He looked at the torch on the wall, then back at the cable. “If we can’t cut it, maybe we can short it out? or burn it? He paused, his brow furrowing. “But if this thing is connected to the fountain and the fountain is connected to… whatever the old man was talking about… maybe we should not be touching it at all.” He stood up, wiping his hands on his trousers. “Wait. It the device is gone, and someone took it… where would they go?” Salvaxe asked, as the question popped into his head. “It was probably Estrela,” Escuro said with a deep voice, his min

Salvaxe did not argue. He just nodded, his hand lingering on the hilt of his knife for a second longer than necessary before he turned toward the direction of the cave. When they finally approached the cave mouth carved into the cliff of the mountain, below where the ruins were, the sun was already setting. The entrance of the cave was completely covered by a luminous, circular magical barrier. The barrier glows in vivid shades of blue and white, its surface alive with swirling energy and branching, lightninglike veins that crackle across it. The effect is both fluid and volatile, as if water and electricity have been fused into a single, unstable force. It casts a faint, cool glow onto the surrounding rock, subtly illuminating the cave’s edges and the nearby ground. Salvaxe stopped short, his hand going to his chest. The cool pulsing light from the barrier washed over them, painting their faces in flickering shades of electric blue. “What the hell i

“If we go back down there and stop the water from flowing? What then?” Escuro asked, still not sure if he entirely beliefs all this. The old man’s eyes darted to the corner of the room, as if checking to see if the shadows themselves were listening. “You go down there, you are walking into a throat,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “The mechanism is not just a lever. It is connected to something. Something that breathes.” He picked up the mug again but did not drink. His fingers drumming a nervous rhythm against the clay. “If you stop the flow, you might seal it back up. Or you might provoke what is underneath to come looking for you. There is no clean way out of this, boy. You either let it happen and watch the whole valley turn into something unrecognizable, or you go down there and pray you are faster than whatever is waiting.” He paused, his gaze settling on Escuro. “Fine,” Escuro said and

“The ground there is thin,” the old man said, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Not thin like a worn rug. Thin like skin over a wound that will not heal. The things that live on the other side– they do not care about your names, or your gods, or your little wars.” He picked up on of the mugs, turning it slowly in his hands. “When you went in there, last time, you brought something back with you. Not on your backs, not in your pockets. Something inside. Something that sits in the dark parts of your mind and waist.” He looked directly at Salvaxe, then shifted his gaze to Escuro. “Look, we do not have time for this,” Escuro said impatiently. “Tell us about the fountain.” The old man let out a short, dry laugh that had no warmth in it. “You do not drink for that fountain. You do not even touch the water with your bare skin if you can help it.” He pointed the iron rod toward the window, toward the direct

Anna moaned as Zack rubbed against her from behind. The sound of her moan– soft, breathless, and entirely unguarded– hits him like a physical weight. His jaw tightens, his teeth grinding together as he fights the urge to lose that promised control. “You sound so good,” he rasps, his voice barely a whisper against her skin. “Do that again.” He does not rush. He keeps his movements slow and deliberate, just like he promised, but the rhythm is heavy, intentional. His hands stay anchored on her hips, guiding her, keeping her steady as he maintains that agonizingly slow friction. His other hand reaches around, fingers splaying across her stomach, pulling her back against him so there is no space left between them. He can feel every vibration of her moan through his own chest.“I have got you, just breathe. I am right here.” Zack murmurs, his lips grazing her shoulder blade. “Ah, God. Zack,” Anna moaned sweetly. “I w

“Do not call me sexy,” Zack rasps, though his body betrays every word. “It is not a compliment if you are using it to tease me.” He tilts his head back, his eyes squeezed shut, jaw working as he tries to hold onto some shred of control. But then Anna moves again, and the control snaps like a frayed wire. His hands slide from her back to her hips, his thumbs pressing into the bone as he rolls his pelvis upward, meeting her rhythm with desperate, heavy pressure. A sweet moan escapes her mouth at his movement. Her hands wrap around his neck and she kisses him deeply.The sound of Anna’s moan– sweet, genuine, and entirely for him– is the final blow. Zack’s composure does not just crack; it shatters. He meets her kiss with a ferocity that is almost overwhelming, his tongue tangling with hers as he drinks her in like a man dying of thirst. His hands move from her hips to her hair, pulling her closer, as if he can absorb her entire bei

“You think I would say no?” Zack rasps, his voice dropping to a dangerous, gravelly register. His hand at Anna’s waist tightens, his fingers digging into her skin through the dress. Her pulls her closer still, his chest heaving against hers, the heat between them nearly unbearable. “Mark me,” he commands, the words barely more than a growl. “Go ahead. Let everyone know exactly who I belong to.” He tilts his head back against the headboard, exposing the long line of his throat to her, his jaw set and his breathing ragged. His green eyes never leave hers, challenging her, daring her to follow through on the promise hanging between them. She continued sucking on his neck, her hand moving down to the metal button of his jeans.Zack’s breath hitches, a sharp, jagged sound that tears through the quiet of the room. His hands fly to Anna’s waist, fingers curling into the fabric of her dress as he feels her hand move downward. &ldq

Zack’s stomach muscles ripple and tighten under her touch, his breath coming in heavy, uneven drags. He watches Anna’s hands with a focused intensity, his jaw set as he fights to maintain even a shred of composure. “Anna,” he warns, his voice cracking slightly. It is not a request to stop– it is more like a warning to herself. He reaches up, his hands finding the hem of her dress where it meets her waist. His fingers brush against the skin there, and he freezes for a heartbeat, realizing just how thin the barrier between them has become. The warmth radiating from her is intoxicating. “You are doing this on purpose,” he murmurs, his green eyes locking onto hers. “You know exactly what you are doing to me.”Zack hands slide slowly upward, his palms flat against the fabric of Anna’s dress, pulling it taut as he begins to lift the hem of her dress, his movements deliberate and heavy with intent. “I do know exactly

“We are not in some shitty motel room,” Zack starts, his voice steady but quiet. “It is not even night. It is late afternoon, maybe, and we are at this place by the coast– the one with the old wooden pier. No crowds, just the sound of the waves hitting the rocks below us.” “I do love the ocean,” Anna commented with a genuine smile. “Go on…” his green eyes soften as he watches her smile, the blue light of the TV catching the genuine warmth in her expression. His hands stay on her hips, but his touch becomes lighter, almost hesitant. “The air is cool, but the sun is still hanging low,” he continued, his voice dropping into a slow, rhythmic cadence. “There is this late café right on the edge of the sand. We are sitting at a table outside, and you are wearing that dress– not this one, a different one, something light that catches the wind.”Zack pauses, his gaze drifting to Anna&rsqu

Zack looks at her for a long time, his dark eyes searching Anna’s as if looking for a catch. A slow, reluctant nod follows. “I promise,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. He pulls her closer, burying his face in the crook of her neck, his breath warm against her skin. “I am not good at lying, anyway. I would probably fuck it up in a week.” He exhales a long, shaky breath, his body relaxing against hers in a way he rarely allows himself to do. “You are the only person who has ever asked me for something like that,” he murmurs against her skin, his voice thick. “Maybe I like the real you,” she says suggestively and pressed an open mouth kiss to his neck. “Maybe I want you to be happy,” she murmured against his skin.A low rough sound escapes Zack’s throat– half-groan, half-breath– as Anna’s lips press against his neck. His entire body jolts slightly at the sensation, his muscles t