Max Book Thief Novels & Stories

A face that says twenty-five and eyes that say nothing at all. He smells like cold stone and old coins and, under it something sweet and cloying like too much incense burning in a small, enclosed space. It burns my nose. Every hair on my body stands up. The wolf plants his feet. Dead thing, he says. Walking dead thing. I hate this plan. You and me both. "Dax Holt." Maxim doesn't look up from the pour. "The boy king of Northgate, in my establishment, after nightfall. Either the world is ending or you need something."

Max finally announced to his son as he sat on the couch. “What?!” Caden rose from the couch in shock. “8 million dollars? Father, where do we raise such a huge amount of money from and what exactly did you use it to do?” Caden pressed, and Mr. Max knew he could no longer hide the truth. “I used it to do business. I am into money laundering, and the police liquidated and seized all the money and assets. The fact is, I have been doing it for years with no problem until Damian Tucker took over the mafia world in this territory.”

“Truthfully, before this chat, I wasn’t willing to part with her. But if there is anyone who I feel could keep little bird, put her to good use, it seems like you, Maximillion.” “Max. My friends call me Max.” This made him smile. “I will say, my personal business is expensive and a lot of times doesn’t turn a profit. But a man like you, I’m sure you could help me with that.” I nodded. “I can definitely help with that. Untraceable and clean. I don’t like getting the mafias money mixed with mine. Especially when I don’t want my boss asking why I have a receipt for a slave in the laundry.”

I slam the MacBook screen shut so hard that I feel it crack in half, under my hand. I'm so angry that this makes me even more uncomfortable and I throw it on the floor, pushing everything on the table. The papers are on the floor, the damn letter is on the floor too. I throw the picture frame on the table against the wall. Manipulation. Everything Max does is based on manipulation and lies. More and more. There's not a day that he's told the truth. Did he ever really love my mother?

I found him so cool whenever he shared his faith with the whole family. I marched right up to the bays and handed my card to a teenager cashier at the counter to make a purchase. She was wearing a cute and tiny hairpin on the left side of her ear, her above shoulder-length black hair made her even more gorgeous. "Hello, Miss Astrid! It is good to see you here again." She cheerfully greeted me while placing my books on a paper bag printed with the name of the shop. "Hello, Marianne! Are you done with your class already?" She is the daughter of Mrs. Williams, who owned this bookstore.

Small and bright with good light and walls that needed painting and a kitchen that actually worked. Completely mine. Max helped me move boxes. He was extremely vocal about the weight of every single one. “What is in this?” he said, dropping a box onto the floor. “Books,” I said. “You don’t own this many books.” “Grayson gave me some.” Max looked at the box. Then at me. “He gave you books.” “From the Queens bookshop,” I said. “He went back.” Max was quiet for a moment. “Okay,” he said. “I like him.”

He knew Maximus would ruin his plans but that was the right way for him to be fair to his innocent brothers. Maximus was nervous, his mouth trembling to admit his secret. ''This book I found, it came from Dad's bookshelf. When I picked it up I noticed something strange in this book," Max explained. He opened the book and everyone saw nothing written on its pages. Everyone just frowned but they wanted to know about it. ''If you don't see anything in it but I can see and read what's written on every page of it,'' Max said, his siblings did not react, they just kept listening. "So what's your point?" Flynn suddenly spoke, getting bored listening to him. "Can you just be straight to the point,"

Alexandra must have taken a sip from her drink because that was all I could hear for a while, like this was the most ordinary conversation in the world. "It depends, really. The girl is not cooperating, as you know. She's very stubborn and has refused to sign any documents even when threatened with bodily harm. But I have... access routes. If she refuses, there are other ways. Forgery, for instant." What. The. Fuck. How are they? How dare her? "I want her accounts too. They hold a lot of money, and I want each and every penny there. If Alessandro went through all the trouble of getting me on board when it comes to this mission, then I should be compensated fairly. I need the profit."

Marble floors gleamed beneath my feet, and the walls were lined with oil paintings of solemn subjects whose eyes seemed to follow me everywhere. The air carried a faint scent of… disinfectant mixed with cigars. I was brought to the door of the study on the second floor. The half-Crisean kidnapper politely gestured for me to enter, while he and his partner stationed themselves outside the door like twin gatekeepers. After taking a deep breath, I pushed the heavy oak door. The main lights of the study weren't on; only a floor lamp in the corner cast a dim, amber glow. A man sat behind a massive desk with his back to me and was calmly wiping something in his hands with a white cloth.

I’d ended up seeing something so gory, it was both hot and hunted me in my sleep. Because of how fast we were walking, we didn’t take long to reach the new library. When we entered, Maxim was still standing by the wall where he was at the time I ran out to meet his best friend. His eyes immediately dropped to Mikhail’s hand that was clasped in mine. I held back a smile and dragged Mikhail forward before he could greet his friend. “What do you see?” “Books,” he grinned. “Lots and lots of books.” “Right?” I could not contain my excitement even if I tried. Maxim was a bad person, yes, but even I couldn’t deny that this was a good deed. It was the best thing anyone had ever done for me.