Maxwell's House Of Books Novels & Stories

Maxwell went upstairs and went directly to his study. At this moment, although the study was not in a mess, the opened bookshelf revealed what had happened here not long ago. He clenched his fists tightly, walked all the way to the small path slowly, and went to the basement.

I couldn’t tear my eyes from the exotic scenes before me. James turned the corner and drove through the front of a massive building that simply said, MAXWELL in bright, bold letters. Below that, it said Hotel, Resort, and Casino. My jaw nearly dropped. I had thought his mansion and apartment were extravagant enough, but this? This flashy building? Once again, the power, richness, and influence this man yielded overwhelmed me. James was a Maxwell, one of the wealthiest, most influential families in America, maybe the world. My heart skipped a beat at the thought that this very powerful man was my lover.

“And to Aunt Mina and Aunt Lorelai for also having a new home!” Mina, busy giving instructions to the caterer, waved and said, “Thank you! I thank the heavens for giving me such a capable son!” As for Lorelai, she was taking Maddox for a walk. She also waved and said, “We love our new home!” Maxwell had poured his heart into building the house. It was his project from the moment he got his first paycheck from Luxford Iron Pulse. He bragged about it and looked forward to its completion whenever he came home.

Maximus felt like the USB drive his nephew had handed him was burning a hole in his hand. It was a strange sensation. He had noticed the shift in Alden’s demeanor when he gave him the device, and though he didn’t understand why, he knew its contents were important. Driving to his new home, Maximus reflected on how efficient Matthew continued to be. The house was already illuminated, with a doorman at the gate. Inside, there was no trace of dust or neglect; everything gleamed, and the place was beginning to feel warm, almost like home. Yet despite its grandeur, it felt as solitary as ever, just like when he was younger. His only real companion remained Emma, his loyal housekeeper.

I know it makes me look bigger than I am, but I would rather people believe that than see what my shape really is. A few hours later, I head home. Walking into the apartment, I find it looks ransacked. I hear movement from one of the spare rooms. As softly as I can, I approach the room to find Maxwell ripping apart the room. Surprised, I ask, “Have you lost something?" Maxwell turns to me. He pulls out one of my notebooks and throws it down on the bed. “Explain this,” he hisses. “It’s my notebook. I use it to remember things people like. Dates that are special to them are also written down. That way, if they have a birthday or anniversary or any other special event, I can get them a gift I k

She looked up as Maxwell appeared in the doorway, his jacket tossed carelessly over one shoulder, his boots untied. “Well, well,” he drawled, flashing a grin that didn’t quite hide the fatigue in his eyes. “I knew Richard had insomnia. Didn’t know you were infected too.” Monet’s lips twitched, though her chest stayed tight. “Could say the same about you.” Maxwell grabbed a glass from the cabinet and reached for the bottle on the counter instead of tea. He poured generously, the amber liquid catching the low light, and lifted it in salute. “To sleepless houses.”

“I won’t let him.” Meanwhile, across the city, Maxwell Stone sat in the study of his sprawling estate, a glass of whiskey in hand. The fire crackled in the massive stone fireplace, casting flickering shadows across the room. The walls were lined with shelves of books and artifacts that spoke to Maxwell’s wealth and influence—a legacy he had built brick by brick, no matter the cost. He was calm, almost unnervingly so, as he stared at the chessboard on the table before him. He had always loved chess—every move calculated, every piece expendable if it meant achieving victory. In his mind, life was no different.

Moreover, you should let the owner manage the situation at this point. With that, an evil smile spread on my face as I helped Maxwell into his house without him allowing the guards to touch him. Even when he entered he used the same hand to stop the guards inside and the maids from touching him making a proud smile play on my lips as I took my time to look around his house. I was wowed by the beauty of the house as well as the interior which screams wealth.

he remarked and I simply nodded. "Rule number 2," I remembered Boss's words, "do not hold a conversation with a customer, deliver and walk away, don't look back." The dwarf man walked in and out with an envelope, it had to be the biggest of all delivery I have ever done. I was not surprised, either, as Mr. Maxwell belongs to one of the Senate houses in New York, he lives on money. I got up to leave, my deal was over and I was called back. He handed another envelope to me, "this is for you," he said and I looked at Mr. Maxwell in awe.

Maxwell smirked, looking at her disdainfully, "This is my home. Can't I come back whenever I want?" Yes, he was right! Flora knew very well that this was his home. So she closed her mouth and didn't say anything. She felt a slight tremor in her heart, afraid of what might happen next. This man appearing in her room, what else could he want besides tormenting and violating her? Naturally, Maxwell noticed her uneasiness. He leaned in, his hands resting on each side of her soft bed. Staring at her, he mocked, "Miss White, you seem quite nervous, don't you?"