Vance Maximus Novels & Stories

He came to steal her heart. She stole his first. Julian Vane is dying. His curse burns through him like molten fire, a biological mistake that destroys his bloodline by age 25. He has five months left to live unless he finds the Aethel Stone, a gem fused with human blood that can save him. The stone is embedded in one girl’s chest. Elara Vance doesn’t know she’s a walking death sentence. All she knows is that her father’s botanical gardens are dying, her family is bankrupt, and a mysterious drifter with dark eyes and calloused hands just showed up offering to save the only thing she loves. She hires him. She trusts him. She doesn’t realize he’s the billionaire who destroyed her father’s business or that extracting the stone from her heart will kill her in the exact way her father died. Then everything changes. When feral werewolves attack her family, Julian is forced to shift revealing what he truly is. In that moment, as his beast form towers over her in the rain, Elara discovers the terrible truth: the man she’s beginning to fall for is a predator. And she’s his prey. But Julian is facing an impossible choice. The stone is keeping Elara alive. Taking it means killing her. Leaving it means watching himself burn out from the inside while she dies anyway. His family demands the stone. His curse demands her death. And his heart that cursed, failing heart demands he save her. In a dying garden where nothing should survive, Julian and Elara are bound by a werewolf contract neither fully understands. As danger closes in from all sides, they discover that the most dangerous thing isn’t the curse.

I'm Jax Ryder, heir to the most powerful investment group in Veridian City. I had just returned from studying abroad. My father, worried I might impulsively marry the wrong woman, arranged a marriage for me with Everly, the heiress to the up-and-coming Sinclair Group. It was strictly a business arrangement. But that didn't mean I intended to just go through the motions. At the very least, I had to personally bid on the mansion that would serve as our marital home. And so, I found myself at the annual Starlight Charity Gala. When the legendary prime real estate, the "Siren's Cove Estate," was presented as the final auction item, I raised my paddle. Just as the gavel was about to fall, an arrogant voice cut through the room. "What right does a nobody like you have to bid? Step aside." The grand hall fell silent, the only sound the frantic clicking of camera shutters from all corners. I turned my head. A man in a flashy, sequined suit stood there. He swirled the champagne in his glass, his posture reeking of arrogance. Before I could even speak, the auctioneer brought the gavel down. "Sold! Congratulations to Mr. Brian Vance on winning the 'Siren's Cove Estate'!" I frowned, a flicker of anger rising within me. "The bidding wasn't over." "That's against the rules." Brian sneered. He looked me up and down, his eyes filled with contempt. "The rules?" He curled his lip. "Listen up. I'm Everly Sinclair's favorite stepbrother. In Veridian City, what I say goes." I had to stop myself from laughing out loud. This was interesting. My fiancée's stepbrother. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. "Everly, your dear brother just snatched the marital home I'd picked out. What are you going to do about it?"

Lena Marchetti, twenty-eight, operates on fumes. Her father Marco's cancer treatments have swallowed her savings and the final credits of her degree. She interns at Croft Industries, a glass tower engineered to diminish. She is invisible, sweat gluing her blouse to her spine, until she drops Julian Croft's Montblanc pen. The crack on marble halts breath. She scrabbles on cold stone. When she lifts her chin, Julian crouches beside her. He doesn't retrieve the pen. He waits. His gray eyes hold hers, and heat floods her neck, damp and unwelcome. "You break it, you buy it," he says. "And you can't afford it." He leaves her kneeling. At 3:17 AM, her phone blares: Croft. Office. One hour. She goes. His office smells of leather and ozone. He slides a contract across the desk. Six months. Exclusivity. Her compliance. In exchange, her father's debt dissolves. Her signature slants, barely legible. After her best friend Dani labels Julian a sociopath, Lena sobs in the service elevator. He finds her. "Come with me." He escorts her to a 24-hour diner. He orders cherry pie, slides it across formica. She is wrecked—blotched skin, swollen lids. He studies her as if memorizing the topography of her distress. He teaches her to fence. She lunges, jabs his ribs. He laughs in that rusted, startled way that travels up her calves. She registers: I manufactured that sound. Elara Vance, Julian's former mentor who sold his first deal for a board seat, resurfaces. She invites Lena to lunch, offers employment. "He'll never perceive you as an equal. Work for me. Become a threat." The words burrow. Lena's palms dampen at his touch. While Julian travels, she picks the lock of a hidden room. A library.

He didn't want her money. He wanted her. Elara Vance is one bad week away from losing everything. Her freelance career is barely keeping the lights on, her sister is falling apart on her couch, and her car is about to be repossessed. So when she accidentally damages a stranger's luxury car on an empty street, she knows she's ruined. But the man who steps out of the black sedan isn't interested in her insurance. He isn't interested in the police. He isn't even interested in the forty‑two thousand dollars she owes him. Adrian Volkov wants something else entirely. He's been watching her for weeks. He knows about her sister, her bills, her father's death. He knows she's desperate enough to do anything. And he's about to prove it. The contract is simple: she moves into his mansion, follows his rules, and becomes his Doll. In exchange, her debt disappears. No police. No record. No questions. But the rules aren't what she expects. The mansion is a cage, the servants know more than they say, and Adrian's cold exterior hides something darker than she ever imagined. He doesn't just want her body. He wants her submission. Her trust. Her surrender. And he won't stop until he has all of it. Elara tells herself it's just a transaction. A way to survive. But the line between obligation and desire blurs with every glance, every touch, every night she spends in his bed. The more he controls her, the more she craves it. And the more she learns about his past, the more she realizes: she was never the one in control. And now that she's his Doll, he'll never let her go. Doll is a dark romance with explicit content, power dynamics, and a slow‑burn descent into obsession. Recommended for readers 18+.