Novels by Jessy Writes

The sun was barely above the horizon when Chris Rhoades stormed into what was left of his downtown apartment, empty liquor bottles on the counter, eviction notices pinned on the wall, the stench of failure clinging to the air. His phone buzzed on the table for the fifth time that morning, but he didn’t bother looking at it.He already knew the messages:Your accounts have been frozen.Your assets have been seized.The council revoked your permits.And everywhere he turned, Jack Reynolds’s name was attached to it.He hurled a glass against the wall. It shattered, but the tightness in his chest didn’t ease.He wasn’t going out like this.Chris yanked and opened a drawer and pulled out a slip of paper, a phone number scrawled in messy handwriting. It wasn’t someone Patricia knew about, It wasn’t someone Victor Hart trusted. But it was someone who hated Jack Reynolds even more than they did.He hesitated for only a second before dialing.The line rang once.Twice.Then a deep, gravelly vo

The grand executive boardroom of Reynolds Global Holdings was immaculate as always, the long polished oak table gleaming under the morning sun spilling through floor-to-ceiling windows, the city skyline stretching beyond. But the air inside was sharp, tense, heavy with anticipation.At exactly 7:55 a.m., Agnes Reynolds stepped through the double doors in a dark gray power suit, her expression cold, calculated. The weight of the last twelve hours clung to her shoulders, but her poise remained intact.She walked to the head of the table, ignoring the wary stares of the assembled board members.Elliott Crane followed a step behind, his face pale, nervous sweat beading at his hairline.Agnes didn’t acknowledge it. She couldn’t afford to.“Gentlemen, thank you for coming,” Agnes began, voice smooth, commanding. “As acting chairwoman of this board, I hereby call this emergency session to order.”A few exchanged glances, no one speaking.Agnes pressed on. “In light of the recent disruptions

The polished mahogany study of Agnes Reynolds’ private suite was dimly lit, the heavy curtains drawn shut against the first hints of dawn. A grandfather clock ticked steadily, marking each passing second like a countdown to something inevitable.Agnes sat in her leather wingback chair, a cut crystal glass of neat scotch untouched on the side table. Her reflection stared back at her from the window, poised, composed, but the sharp edge in her eyes betrayed the turmoil beneath.She’d watch the council scandal unfold on live feeds. Seen Victor Hart taken down at Dock 14 like a common criminal. Seen the public humiliation of the Rhoades name. She knew whose hand was behind every move.Jack Reynolds.She should’ve ended him years ago.And now he was pulling her empire out from under her, piece by piece.But Agnes Reynolds hadn’t ruled this city’s boardrooms for thirty years by rolling over.A knock at the door.“Come in,” she called.Elliott Crane entered, silver-haired, nervous, his suit

Olivia Rhoades drove through the near-empty streets of Hamsville, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. The city looked different at night, colder and meaner. Or maybe she was finally seeing it for what it truly was.Her phone buzzed in the passenger seat. Another news alert.BREAKING: City Investigation Targets Rhoades Holdings, Victor Hart Implicated in Data Tampering.Her stomach twisted.Victor Hart. That name carried weight in her family once. Now it was just one more nail in their coffin.And Jack Reynolds was hammering them all in.She didn’t know what she expected when she left the house, only that she couldn’t sit there while her mother schemed and Chris self-destructed.For the first time in years, Olivia wanted to face the person she’d wronged.Even if he hated her.Even if he wouldn’t let her past the front door.She gripped the wheel tightly as Reynolds HQ came into view, its glass tower glittering like a monument to her mistakes.Security guards eyed her car warily

Dock 14 sat on the edge of Hamsville’s crumbling harbor district, a long time forgotten stretch of rusted cranes, empty cargo containers, and crooked street lights that flickered like nervous witnesses. The cold air carried the sharp scent of salt, diesel, and old betrayal.Victor Hart paced beneath the hanging floodlight outside a decaying warehouse, a cigarette smoldering in his hand, jaw tight. Every breath felt heavier now. Every step, louder.It wasn’t supposed to come to this.He was a man who built his empire from shadows, not desperate midnight meetings. But Jack Reynolds had pulled the floor out from under him faster than anyone else ever had.And Hart would be damned before he let some former street rat leave him with nothing.He glanced at his watch, 11:05 p.m.Voss was late.A beat-up black sedan pulled into view. The headlights cut through the mist and stopped a few feet away.Eli Voss stepped out, jacket collar turned up, face unreadable.“Take your sweet time,” Hart gro

Olivia Rhoades sat on the edge of her bed, her fingers trembling as she scrolled through social media feeds that seemed to update faster than she could blink. Every news outlet in Hamsville was broadcasting the same story.“Rhoades Family Scandal Erupts at City Council Permits Suspended, Legal Action Imminent.”There were videos, Photos, Headlines that screamed betrayal, fraud, bribery. Her brother Chris’s sweaty, stunned face was splashed across every screen. Patricia’s desperate outburst in council chambers played on repeat.But it wasn’t just a scandal.It was the comments.People she’d once considered friends, socialites, old classmates, and former colleagues, were tearing into the Rhoades name like vultures.“But it is high time those parasites got what they deserved.”“Wonder how Olivia Rhoades feels now, divorcing Jack Reynolds for a fatter wallet. Karma’s got good timing.”The last one made her throat tighten.Because no matter how fast she scrolled, the message was the same