Novels by De Scripter

Adrian and Mira started with the decoration issues. The elders had been very specific about the flowers they wanted for the ceremony… Gladiolus. The flower had a long history of being associated with strength and character, and even its name came from the Latin word for a small sword. It was exactly the kind of flower the elders would choose, elegant enough for the ceremony but carrying a fierce image underneath it. Mira sighed after reading the details again. “This is ridiculous… Who the hell would even have this in Sunset City? And in bulk, for that matter?” Adrian kept his eyes on the road. “We should be able to find someone. The Scofields have been here for years, and they’ve been holding this ceremony every year, right? I’m sure someone prepared.” Mira frowned. “But things haven’t been the same after the war, plus the ceremony wasn't held last year. I doubt any florist would have that, unless they’re stupid.” Just then, Adrian slowed the car in front of a flower shop. Mira

“Hi, Michael...” Celia’s voice echoed calmly from the other side of the line. There was a little hesitation in her voice, as if she had thought about calling him for a while before finally doing it. “I got your new number from Barry. Hope you don’t mind.” Michael leaned against the wall and smiled slightly. “Of course I don’t.” He quickly said. “It’s good to hear your voice. I didn’t get to say goodbye last time because...” He paused, not sure of how to explain what he had wanted to say. “Oh, about that, I... I’m actually in Sunset City right now.” His eyebrow lifted. “Oh yeah?” “Yeah. I cashed in all of my vacation days for the year, so I’ll be in town for a while. I was hoping we could… Catch up sometime?” Michael nodded even though she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, absolutely.” “Great. I’ll see you around, Michael.” The call ended. Michael stared at his phone for a while, a small smile tugging at his lips as he finally walked back toward the meeting room.– Two days later, at

“We absolutely will not be doing that!” The elder looked toward Johnathan, “Explain to your grandniece and grandnephew why moving this ceremony won't be possible.” Jonathan spoke calmly, making it clear that the gathering was important to the family. “Every year, the Scofields use this ceremony to renew alliances, exchange information, make agreements, and quietly demonstrate that our family is still powerful.” The other elders nodded as Johnathan continued. “It is one of the ways we maintain our influence without having to make a public show of it. The event gives us an opportunity to strengthen old relationships, build new ones, and remind everyone connected to us that we remain a force that cannot simply be ignored.” The twins looked at each other. They knew Johnathan was right, but the timing couldn’t be any more worse. Another elder went further, explaining that canceling the gathering once could be overlooked, especially with everything that happened between Michael and

Michael found himself caught in a loop as the memory of him killing those soldiers replayed over and over again in his mind. Every time he was falling into deep sleep, he saw the same moments. The gunfire, the bodies falling, the blood on his hands, and the terrible silence afterward. He tossed and turned in bed, trying to force the memory away, but it refused to leave him alone. No matter how much he tried to rest, his mind kept dragging him back there. Then a soft knock on the door finally made his eyes open. Michael remained still for a moment, staring at the ceiling before turning his head toward the nightstand. He looked at the digital clock beside his bed, it was getting close to 6 p.m. He frowned slightly, all that time and he couldn't even get some proper sleep. The knock didn't come again, but he got up regardless and moved toward the door. As he opened it and stepped out, he saw Monica walking away down the hallway and immediately called her back. Monica stopped and t

Mira sighed while still in Jace’s embrace. She had barely stepped out of the SUV before he had rushed toward her and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m too jetlagged for this.” She muttered. Jace immediately realized he had probably overwhelmed her. “Oh, sorry!” He said, quickly pulling away. “I just... I-I...” Mira gave him a tired look and shook her head. “You missed me, I know.” She walked past him and picked up her luggage. “But how about we keep our hands to ourselves next time?” Her eyes briefly drifted toward Adrian. “Especially in public.” She handed her luggage to one of the helpers carrying the bags, then sighed and started toward the entrance. “Home, sweet home.” Barry watched the exchange and sighed awkwardly. He then tapped Jace lightly on the shoulder and motioned toward Michael. Jace followed his gesture and immediately understood what Barry meant. “Right.” He muttered, clearing his throat. He turned toward Michael, trying to compose himself and held out a hand. “W

As they loaded their stuff into the car, Michael leaned closer to Mira, lowering his voice so only she could hear him. “I think I have my answer now.” Mira stopped what she was doing and looked at him with a confused expression, “Answer to what?” Michael gave her a knowing look, clearly enjoying the confusion on her face. “To my question at Fog Island.” She frowned. “Question?” He snickered under his breath. “Nevermind.” Before she could ask anything else, he walked past her and helped with her luggage. Mira watched him walk away, completely puzzled. She huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, “What is he on about?” She tried to remember what her brother could possibly be referring to, but nothing immediately came to mind. Just then, Adrian leaned down from behind her and whispered, “We’re good to go.” Mira sharply turned around and immediately found herself face to face with him. Their eyes met, and for a second, she completely forgot what she had been thinking about. Sh

Alex swirled the champagne in his glass and smiled at the couple before him—so dazzled, so unaware.“I’d love to meet your son,” Alex said warmly. “I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.”Charlotte Walts—elegant, graceful, and far too eager—clasped her hands with delight. “You’re such a remarkable young man, Alex. If you could mentor him… oh, what a blessing that would be.”Alex grinned. “I’ll try my best. It’s only fair we help each other, isn’t it?”The way they laughed, as if they had known each other for years, amused Alex to no end. Moments ago, they had tried to judge him. Now they wanted their son to become like him.Mr. Walts, quiet and brooding beside his overly eager wife, finally spoke. “Forgive me, but you never mentioned—who are your parents again?”The smile on Alex’s face tightened slightly. He turned to face the man directly, holding his gaze with sharp amusement gleaming in his eyes.There was something about that look—quiet, commanding, dangerous—that made Mr. Walts shi

The chancellor’s residence was aglow with opulence. Hidden beneath the pretense of celebration, the party was less about champagne and music and more about silent power plays and whispered alliances. As Dustin had warned, this wasn’t just a party—it was a decoy. A gathering of power brokers masked as a social event. Politics in pearls. Deals in tuxedos.Alex stood by the grand entrance, eyes scanning the crowd. Dressed in a deep navy three-piece suit tailored to perfection, he looked nothing like the boy who woke up that morning being called “Errand Boy.” His hair was slicked back, his posture confident, and his aura undeniable. He wasn’t just attending this event. He was owning it.He tugged slightly at his lapel and exhaled.This morning, he was invisible.This afternoon, he was humiliated.By night, he was a multimillionaire, the largest shareholder of one of the most powerful banks in the city, and the proud owner of a suit most people in this room couldn’t afford without selling

The city’s air tasted different when Alex stepped out of the bank—sweeter, fresher, laced with a buzz that only the wealthy understood. He wasn't just some broke, errand-running clown anymore. He was now the secret owner of Heritage Finance Bank, and with $10 million resting quietly in his account, the world suddenly looked like his playground.Still, despite the triumph swelling in his chest, his heart was not without its tremors. Uncle Tony’s cryptic remarks had shaken something loose inside him. And Sandra’s quiet warning had left him a little unsettled. Something was brewing. And then, there was Gwen.The thought of her made him grin. Gwen, with her sharp tongue, soft curls, and mysterious allure—she was nothing like Emily. Emily may have dropped him like trash that morning, but now, a girl far more beautiful and influential wanted to go on a date with him. And even more intriguing, Gwen might hold keys to the secrets surrounding his parents’ deaths.But first things first: he nee

Down at the reception, Sandra was a woman on a mission. She had just returned from the restroom, where she'd caked on a fresh layer of makeup—foundation, highlighter, and a lipstick so glossy it could blind an unsuspecting victim. She’d adjusted her dress higher and tighter, the neckline a little lower now, the curves more pronounced. Every step she took was a calculated swing of hips.She positioned herself right by the elevator, her perfume cloud thick enough to announce her presence before her words ever could. A few colleagues threw her mocking glances. One of them, Babara, rolled her eyes and muttered just loud enough, “And the parade begins.”Sandra scoffed, tossing her freshly ironed curls. “Y’all can hate all you want. But I wasn’t born to suffer,” she said, popping her gum as she spoke. “I’m too fine to be struggling. I don’t want to work hard—I want to be spoiled. Period.”The girls behind the counter burst into quiet laughter. “And what now? You want to trap another man l

Alex sat stiffly in the massive executive chair, the black leather cushioning swallowing his wiry frame. The contrast between the opulence of the room and his comical clown costume made him feel like a misplaced joke in a billionaire’s office. Still, he sat up straight, eyes locked on the man across the sleek mahogany desk—the President of Heritage Finance Bank, Mr. Godwin Taylor.A soft knock came on the door. Gwen stepped in, heels clicking sharply against the polished floors. She carried a crystal flute filled with a golden, bubbling liquid.“Dom Pérignon,” she said with a charming smile as she handed the glass to Alex. “The most expensive champagne in the building.”“Thank you,” Alex said, his voice unsure. Her fingers lingered slightly as she passed him the drink, and when their eyes met, she smiled again—this time, slower, deeper, as if she could see something beneath the clown paint.Taylor cleared his throat. “Thank you, Gwen. You may excuse us.”She nodded and exited, leaving

There were gasps all over as Sandra fell.After a second, just as she was scrambling to get up, they all burst into laughter. It was such an embarrassing situation for her and extremely funny to those watching.“What, Sandra, did you see a ghost on the computer?” Someone jabbed.Everyone laughed harder.Alex remained composed as he watched everything unfold—even though he too wanted to laugh.Of course it was funny to him. He knew what had just happened:Sandra had just confirmed exactly how much he was worth and realized she was in hot water.He watched silently as she finally got up, tried to straighten the embarrassment out of her attire, and then moved towards her computer with shame and defeat etched very visibly on her face.Sandra's heart was beating fast; she couldn't hear herself think.God, what have I done?She tried to keep her raging thoughts out of her expression as she refreshed the computer again, but Alex could see that she was trembling slightly.Sandra prayed that s