My Masters Novels & Stories

Nathania knew she had to work fast with a comeback and she said without thinking, “a friend just told me to come here, she didn’t tell me what was going on.” “Oh,” the man smiled, his face relaxing, “we hardly tell people what we do here, we always love for them to come and see and if they like what they witnessed, they are free to join us. But mind you, it is very competitive, can you keep up?” Nathania gulped and glanced at the white board, “where did you get that from, it’s clearly not a high school question.” “Oh dear,” the man laughed softly so as not to disturb the writing students. “High school questions are so yesterday. This is actually a Masters degree's question.”

“Yes. And she’s targeting masters specifically.” My brows shoot up. Damn. Now I’m intrigued. I settle deeper into the booth, letting a smirk tug at the edges of my mouth as I stretch my arms across the backrest. “Seems to me,” I say, my voice low and sarcastic, “that a Master should be able to take on one measly little female. If he can’t, then maybe he’s not worthy of leading an army—or a nest.” West’s eyes flash, his expression turning even darker.

"So, Columbia, right?" I snapped. "What?" "Your father said you're wrapping up your Master's." His gaze lingered. "Communication and Media, if I remember correctly." I cleared my throat and took a small sip of my champagne, mostly to buy time. "Yeah. One more semester." "Impressive. Not many your age manage that." There was something about the way he said your age—like it wasn't just about academics, like he was thinking of something else entirely. I tilted my head, trying to play it cool. "Well, not everyone wants to rot away in boardrooms staring at spreadsheets."

"Sir, you claim I don't deserve to be here. Are you familiar with who I am?" Andrew just laughed it off. "Renee, you graduated in June, right? What great things could you have possibly achieved as a recent grad just starting out?" Renee corrected him, "Actually, I hold a master's degree, not a bachelor's. It's best to get your facts straight before questioning someone. Even the new students at our school are aware of this. Maybe you should consider enrolling here yourself to brush up on your knowledge.Do you know what it means to hold a master at my age?”

Every orientation for the new students carried the same thread, preparation for the auction. The word carried weight. It rolled from tongue to tongue with ease, but no one seemed willing to explain it outright. Bryce heard fragments: a test, a display, a tradition, and all the four masters and their council members were attending. This was part of the aunction news that scared the hell out of bryce. All masters were attending? Does that mean Master Derick would be present? But the news was always vague, leaving Bryce with a heavy sprit. Even Khalifa wouldn't tell what that day meant. He kept his questions to himself then, but the uncertainty ate at him in the quiet moments.

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Who knows how it started, but the young master himself forbade them from telling Elena about this. “Y-Young master… He has a lot of work, Miss. So he won’t return for a few days.” He answered clearly, although he was a little flustered. He answered Elena’s question according to the young master’s order, who was now watching them from the dining table. “Oh? I thought it was the young master that arrived this afternoon?” Elena said in confusion. The people in the room could barely breathe. Elena looked at Thomas who was still there, she looked like she was thinking and Thomas seemed to read her mind.

“I mean, you should have a name. A family.” “I have no one.” “Then how did you get here?” “I don't know.” I slammed my palm on my small, round table, spilling coffee all over the whole place. “I don't know whatever you're up to, but you certainly can't stay here.” I pushed. “I can't be your Master.” Then he stood up, taking slow strides towards me. For a moment, I was blown away by how high and mighty he looked at the moment. If anyone had to call the other master, it could as well be me clinging unto this mysterious guy's feet.

Classes started four days later. I was doing a master’s program in business management and analytics, and the subject material was much more practical than I’d have anticipated. There were a lot of assignments to complete, and the professors I met on my very first day were pretty strict, so I knew that I couldn’t slack off. Not that I intended to.

And Fantasy was His masterpiece. Invitation-only and wrapped in secrecy, the club existed beneath layers of silence and reputation. No websites advertised it openly. No public guest lists existed. Access came only through whispered recommendations, careful vetting, and the rare blessing of an invitation personally approved by The Master Himself. Inside, however, Fantasy became something entirely different from its modest exterior. It breathed.