Novels by Lady D

Austra Headquarters —Mike’s Office.Mike’s phone buzzed on his desk with Gregory Lawson’s name flashing on the screen. A wide grin spread across Mike’s face as he answered and placed it on speaker.“Gregory. Tell me you are calling with good news about our digital ghost.”Gregory’s rich laugh boomed through the office. “Patience, Mike. Even ghosts take time to materialize. I am on it. No, I am calling because I just had the most entertaining meeting of my entire career.”“Oh?” Mike leaned back and propped his feet on his desk. “Do tell.”“You will not believe who just showed up at Arthur Ginger’s office, with tails between their legs, begging for an audience.”Mike’s smile widened. “No.”“Yes,” Gregory confirmed with glee. “Charles Stewart and his attack dog, Simeon. I wish you could have seen it, Mike. The sheer, unadulterated desperation. Stewart actually tried to pitch an alliance. ‘For old times’ sake.’”Mike burst out laughing. “He did not! What did Ginger say?”“He gave him ten

Sawdust Industries - Arthur Ginger’s Office.The reception area of Sawdust Industries was going according to its name…rustic, solid and functional, with the rich scent of polished wood and parchment hanging in the air. It was a stark contrast to the cold glass and steel of Bio- tech or Austra.Charles Stewart stood there impatiently, feeling every ounce of that contrast, every second of the humiliating silence as the receptionist made them wait. Simeon stood beside him, like a statue with tension and worry etched on his face.Finally, the woman nodded. “Mr. Ginger will see you now.”Ginger’s office was an enormous space adorned with bookshelves of rare timber and framed blueprints of historical buildings. But Stewart’s eyes weren’t on the decorations. They were locked on the two men seated in the deep leather armchairs opposite Ginger’s desk.Arthur Ginger sat behind the desk, like a king in a throne room. And lounging casually in one of the chairs, swirling a glass of bourbon, was Gr

Austra Headquarters - Executive Conference Room.The mood in Austra’s conference room was a huge contrast from the funeral atmosphere at Bio-tech. Sunlight streamed through the floor to ceiling windows, shining on a table where Mike, Mr Austin, Mr Liam and a few other core investors sat, not in crisis, but in confident anticipation.“The momentum is undeniable,” Mr Liam was saying, with a satisfied smile on his face. “Every headline, every ticker symbol, is telling the same story…Austra is the future. Bio-tech is the past.”Mr Austin nodded. “The past has a nasty habit of fighting back, Liam. We have all seen it before. Stewart won’t go quietly, you know that.”Mike leaned back in his chair and folded his fingers together. “He does not have to go quietly. He just has to go.”The door to the conference room burst open and Carter stood there, breathless with a tablet clutched in his hand. His usual happy composure was shattered and it’s being replaced by pure unadulterated shock.“Sir,”

Bio - Tech Headquarters - Boardroom.The boardroom was filled with discontentment. Aground the huge, polished mahogany table, Bio - Tech’s most influential investors sat like judges in a court case, ready to to deliver a guilty charge. The air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume, bland coffee and pure fear.Charles Stewart stood at the head of the table, his knuckles white as he gripped the table, trying to look unshaken in the face of the storm.“Gentlemen, ladies, I assure you,” he began, with his voice an imitation of its former boom. “This is a temporary setback. A blip. Robinson’s alliance with Lawson is a facade built on sand. The SEC is already launching a full investigation into his finances. His house of cards will collapse by the end of the week.”A silver haired investor called Pierce, his face etched with skepticism, didn’t bother to hide his disgust. “A blip, Charles? My portfolio has lost eighteen percent of its value since this ‘blip’ began. The market isn’t r

Austra Headquarters - The War Room.The air in Austra’s secure conference room, named “The War Room,” was a huge contrast to the toxic atmosphere all over Bio - Tech’s headquarters. Here, the air was cool and buzzed with the quiet energy of upcoming victory. The huge screen displayed a complex drawing of Bio - tech’s stock holdings. Mike sat at the head of the table, like a king in his court. To his right was Gregory Lawson, his new ally, who was looking more relaxed and ruthless than Mike had ever seen him. To his left was Mr Ginger, owner of sawdust industries…a man who had made his fortune in lumber and construction, and harbored a legendary, decades old grudge against Charles Stewart.“The problem is not buying the shares,” Mike said. “The problem is buying them quietly. Stewart’s inner circle is panicked. They are watching every trade, every movement. If they see combined buy-up of their stock, they will administer poison pill protocols before we can blink.”Mr Ginger chuckled.

Bio-Tech Headquarters —Mr Stewart’s Office.The air in Mr Stewart’s office was thick enough to choke on. It smelled of expensive whisky and failure. News of the Lawson - Austra merger played on the large screen TV, where the financial analysts voices slick with praises for Mike Robinson’s “strategic masterstroke.” Each word was a needle driving deeper under Mr Stewart’s skin.He stood with his back to the room, staring out at the city skyline…a skyline that now felt like it belonged to someone else. His knuckles were white as he gripped his gold walking stick.“A merger,” he spat the word out like it was poison. “They didn’t just sell him the tower. They gave him the keys to the goddam kingdom and invited him to move in.”Behind him, Richard stood nearly invisible behind the bookcase, with as he stared blankly at the moving pictures on the screen. Simeon paced slowly near the desk, his mind visibly racing through the wreckage, calculating angles, looking for a foothold in the sinking

Jace listened to Mila’s narration of the dinner, with a blank expression on his face. When she finished, he did not rage or celebrate. “A private meeting,” he snickered as he swirled the scotch in his glass. “They are that desperate.”“They are terrified,” Mila corrected with her arms crossed. “Stella offered me a million dollars in cash. Ethan looked like he was going to be sick. They are drowning, and they think you are the only one who can hand them lifeline.”“Oh, I will throw them a line,” Jace said, his voice turning to deadly whisper. “I will just make sure it is attached to an anchor.” He turned to Reynolds. “Set it up.”Reynolds didn’t shake. “Parameters, sir?”“Anonymous. Neutral ground. A private room at the Oak Room, tomorrow night at nine. Tell them the CEO will meet with Ethan Montgomery alone. No lawyers. No Stella. Especially no Stella. If he brings so much as a bodyguard, the meeting is over before it begins.”Mila frowned. “You are actually going to meet him?”“No,”

The Withman dining hall was like a stage, and every plate setting was like a prop. Stella, dressed in navy blue silk, played the gracious hostess, while Ethan, pale and tense, looked like a man waiting for his execution.“Mila, darling, I am so glad you came,” Stella purred as she topped up Mila’s wine glass with a vintage bottle that cost more than a car. “We simply had to clear the air after that….unfortunate misunderstanding at the penthouse.”Mila offered a thin, professional smile. “There’s nothing to clear, Stella. It was a Buisness dinner that ended abruptly. These things happen.”Ethan cleared his throat and traced his fingers nervously on the stem of his glass. “I owe you an apology, Mila. My behavior was….ungentlemanly. The pressure of the merger, the postponement…” He let the sentence hang like a pathetic plea for sympathy.“The pressure is understandable,” Mila said as she kept her tone neutral, without giving nothing away. She took a small, deliberate bite of her chocolat

The Parkinson Group boardroom was a pit of cobras, and they were all hissing at once. Jace took his seat at the head of the large mahogany table. Reynolds stood like a statue at his shoulder as the wave of their panic crash over him.“—catastrophic devaluation! Eighteen percent in a single hour!” “My phone has not stopped ringing! Investors are demanding answers!” “Thai is exactly what we were afraid of! Inexperience at the height!”An older man with a flat face and a too tight collar, Mr Albright, slammed his hand on the table. “This leak, this….this disaster! It never happened under Jonathan’s watch. He would have contained it.”Jace folded his fingers together, with a calm expression on his face. “And how would he have contained a leak of internal financials, Mr Albright? By wishing it away?”A woman with iron rimmed glasses, Miss Theroux, leaned forward. “Don’t be funny. This is serious. The vultures are circling. We have shareholders ready to sell immediately at the opening bell

The Montgomery penthouse which was once a symbol of untouchable opulence, now felt like a bedazzled cage. The air was thick with the irritating advent of expensive whiskey and pure, undiluted panic.Ethan Montgomery paced the length of the Persian rug, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. The financial news channel was on mute on the massive screen, but the words at the bottom screamed the story loud enough…PARKINSON GROUP - 18.5%…MONTGOMERY MED - 22%… WITHMAN GROUP - 15%….“Eighteen percent!” Ethan roared as he finally snapped. He snatched the crystal flower pot from the wet bar and flung it into the fireplace and It exploded in a shower of glass shards. “In one hour! How is that even possible?”Stella Withman sat stiffly on a cream silk sofa, her posture perfect, her face a mask of fury. She was still dressed in the silver gown from the party, the glittering engagement ring placed on her finger now feeling like a chain. “You said it was done, Ethan. You said you had handled it. Yo

The Foster family office was a monument to old money and old grudges. Floor to ceiling windows offered a clear view of the city, but Marcus Foster fixed his attention on a single sheet of vellum paper on his desk…his uncle’s last will and testament. A copy, of course. The real one was locked away, what should have been his.“It’s an insult. This is what it is.” Marcus snarled. He crushed a Cuban cigar ashtray, the lit ashes dying with a hissing sound. “A final, clear slap in the face from a senile old man.”Matthew, his personal assistant, stood with the fallen posture of a man who had delivered too much bad news. “The will is inaccessible, sir. Placed under heavy security with the firm’s executor. But….there is a condition.”Marcus snapped his head up, with an intense interest in his eyes. “What condition?”“The heir…this Jace….must hold the controlling shares of Parkinson Group for one full calendar year. If he fails, if the company’s value reduces or he is forced to sell….everythin

“Mother” Stella cried out angrily as she steps down the wide staircase to the huge Withman hall. “I am not sure of Ethan no longer. He is up to something very shady.”“Tsk tsk darling…” Morana Withman crooned from the dining area. “Why do you say so child? You know that man loves you dearly.”“You heard of the rubbish he did recently?” Stella shrieked. “He invited Mila over to dinner at his family’s mansion, knowing very well I wouldn’t be there—”“How then did you get the information?”“I was coincidentally having dinner with the girls at La perle, mother,” she replied, “when Mila got a notification from Ethan, inviting her over to dinner.”“Oh.” Morana paused in her table arrangement as she stared at her in shock.“Yes. What insolence!” Stella spat angrily. “And do you know the worst part? I saw that slime dining at the restaurant.”“What slime?” Morana asked, as she pointed at the maids to set the table. “Darling, don’t you think you are overworking yourself over this….minor issue?