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HIS MUSE, HIS MADNESS
Last Updated : 2026-03-19
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This story contains mature themes, explicit romantic content, power imbalance, and emotionally intense situations. It is intended for readers 18+ ⚠️ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "What do you do when the man who ruined your life becomes the only thing you can't stop thinking about?" It started with a slap and ended with my life in shambles. The media painted me as the villain. My scholarship? Gone. My future? Shattered. Now Thomas Knights—billionaire, music god—is a walking red flag, and the reason my life fell apart. But his father? He is more brutal and has me backed into a corner. He offered me a deal: become Thomas's personal assistant, and all my problems would disappear. But there's a catch; I need to spy on his son and report back to him. Yet, their world is ruthless, glamorous, and full of secrets. And Thomas is a destructive taboo, a controlling menace, and completely untouchable. Worse, he sees straight through me. And every day I'm with him, the line between duty and desire blurs. Every secret I learn pulls me deeper into his orbit. The real question isn't whether I'll take the deal. It's whether I'll survive what it demands of me. This isn't a love story. It's a game of survival, obsession, and ruin. And I don't know who will go down first—him or me?
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HIS MUSE, HIS MADNESS CHAPTER SEVENTEEN- The ghost
|Thomas|“Prey.”The word vibrates against the damp skin of her neck.Then, my fingers drift to the back of her neck. A groan slips from my throat.Her body shivers under my touch, shallow breaths slipping from her lips as I pull her gently against my chest.Our eyes meet. A sharp jolt drags me forward.I’m supposed to corner her, berate her, remind her who owns her—who owns the game—yet I can’t move.The second I stepped into this suffocating alley, that scent hit me—That cheap, synthetic floral scent again—It's maddening.I tilt my head, my lips, a wee inch away from her lush, supple parted lips. Just one taste. Just one—Two hands hit my chest, violently shoving me backward.“Don’t,” Ever gasps, stumbling away from me until her back hits the brick wall. Her chest heaves, her eyes a gleaming mix of terror and revulsion.“I-I’m sorry, I just… don't touch me.”A muscle ticks in my jaw. Her rejection hits like ice, snapping my broken ego back in
Last Updated : 2026-03-19HIS MUSE, HIS MADNESS CHAPTER SIXTEEN- The Prey
|Ever|My fingers trace the cold metal of Thomas's phone again.I haven't let go of it since I dug it out of my bag last night. Not when the panic hit.Not when the memories crawled over my trembling body.Not even when I realized what I had done in that bed.I glance at the device, force my shoulders to drop, paste a fragile smile, and push my bedroom door open. "Morning, Dad," I greet, descending the stairs."Morning, sweet pea," Dad replies cheerfully from the kitchen table, not looking up from his newspaper.He looks paler than usual. "Dad?" I ask, my chest tightening, "Are you okay?"Dad looks up, lines of confusion etching on his face. "Why, yes. Just a little tired from the meds. That's all."A breath of relief escapes my lips.He's safe.Stepping toward the counter, my feet suddenly freeze. My heart leaps into my throat."Phew. You almost frightened me, Ms. Lisa."She doesn't move. She just stands at the sink.My eyes scan her posture. T
Last Updated : 2026-03-16HIS MUSE, HIS MADNESS CHAPTER FIFTEEN- The purge
|Ever|The clacking of Thomas' shoes fades in the distance, leaving a ringing silence in its wake. 'I promised your father.'The words bounce around my skullWhat? Did this bastard just reduce me to a desperate, breathing doll for his sick amusement?My fingers dig into the carpet as I force myself off the floor, venom pumping through my veins. My blood doesn't just run cold. It burns.First, he barges into my home.He ridicules my family.And now gets to degrade me?I grit my teeth, forcing my shaking legs to hold my weight.'Clean yourself up.'The echo of his command crawls up my spine.I drag the back of my hand across my eyes. The friction burns. The expensive makeup smears thickly across my cheeks, but I don't care.Oh, I hate him. I hate that smug, arrogant smirk, the way he looks at me, the lingering scent of his expensive cedarwood cologne trapped in the air...But mostly, I hate the wet, heavy ache low in my belly that proves my body betray
Last Updated : 2026-03-10HIS MUSE, HIS MADNESS CHAPTER FOURTEEN- The Game
|Thomas|I glance at Ever as we pull into the lot. She is pressing her spine into the passenger door, trying to hide it, but I can see the frantic, rabbit-fast pulse jumping at the base of her throat.Good.How stupid of her to think that her cheap little house and her oblivious, trusting father can keep me away.The corner of my mouth twitches.Art is born of humiliation.And today...I feel very artistic.Pressing a button, the engine stops, and I step out into the warm Cali sun. By the time I slam the door, Ever is scrambling out, clutching that ridiculous bag to her chest.I am already halfway into the soundstage entrance, leaving her to trail behind like my shadow. The moment I push through the heavy double doors, the once chaotic set halts, and every eye snaps to us. I ignore, strolling over to an empty chair. "Hey, baby," Amara Ross drawls in one of those annoying, rich bitch's voices. She struts toward me, her heels clicking loudly
Last Updated : 2026-03-10
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