Novels by De Scripter

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

Fog Island. The facility on the island had changed significantly since the UCA abandoned it. What had once been a clean research and military facility was no longer recognizable as one. The laboratories had become living quarters, supply rooms had been turned into kitchens, and old training halls now served as gathering places where everyone ate together and planned for the next day. It no longer looked like a government outpost, but like a home built from survival. The soldiers, doctors, engineers, and support staff who had been abandoned there refused to give up. Instead of waiting for rescue that never came, they worked together to make the island livable. Every broken wall was repaired, every usable tool was preserved, every person learned a new skill that could help everyone else stay alive. The soldiers trained every single day. They cleared paths through the forest, reinforced fences, built watchtowers, and created warning systems using ropes, bells, and scrap metal. The

Monica hurried across the balcony and wrapped Adrian in a tight hug the moment she reached him. For a brief second, she thought everything was finally going to be alright. After days of fear and uncertainty, he was standing right in front of her. Her eyes filled with relief as she held onto him. Adrian on the other hand, didn't return the hug. His arms remained at his sides and his expression stayed completely blank, he simply stared at her without emotion. After a long moment, he spoke in a low, distant voice. "You're supposed to be on bed rest." "Oh..." Monica slowly let go and looked away, "I had to pay my last respects to Max. His funeral was three days ago..." Her voice became softer as she looked back at Adrian with hope in her eyes. "They've been looking for you for six days. How about Michael? Is he okay too?" Adrian remained silent. His eyes stayed fixed on her as the silence stretched until it became uncomfortable. Finally, he blinked once and quietly said, "I have to g

Michael and Mira reacted at the same time. The rabid soldier crashed into the spot where they had been standing only a heartbeat earlier, dirt and broken roots flew into the air as both of them rolled away in opposite directions. The force of the attack scattered them, and within seconds the thick fog swallowed them whole. They could no longer see each other. Only the endless white mist surrounded them, making every direction look exactly the same. Michael quickly got to one knee and scanned the area even though he knew it was useless. "You okay?" He called as loudly as he could, his voice echoing through the forest. "Yeah!" Mira answered from somewhere ahead. "This might make me sound like a psycho, but that really pulled me together." "Good to hear." Michael slowly stood, "Now just stay there. I'll make my way to you." "I don't think that's a good idea." Mira replied, lowering her voice as she carefully looked around. Every tree looked like a ghost in the fog, "This soldier is

As they walked along the narrow forest path, Ian explained how everyone on the island had ended up trapped there. The thick fog drifted lazily between the towering trees while damp leaves crunched beneath their boots. Every step seemed to disappear into the white mist behind them. Mira looked back occasionally, unable to shake the feeling that they were being followed, or at least watched. The facility on the island had originally been built for rehabilitation, not imprisonment. Rabid infused soldiers were transported there so doctors and military personnel could slowly help them regain their minds. The process actually worked, but it was painfully slow. After months of research and countless failed attempts, only one soldier had ever been successfully rehabilitated. The project became too expensive. Supplies, medicine, equipment, and manpower drained more money than the UCA wanted to spend. Eventually, the combined UCA government decided the rehabilitation program was no longe

"Allow me to formally welcome you to Fog Island." The man said with the same easy smile. When he noticed the horrified expressions on Michael and Mira's faces, he let out a small chuckle. "Oh, come on. It's not that bad. I mean, it's a little dangerous, and there's death around every corner. Not to mention that if you stray away from your group this early in the morning, you're likely to get lost.” He raised an eyebrow in amusement, “But it's pretty nice. I promise it isn't always this creepy, the fog will go away once the sun comes up." Michael's eyes narrowed as he studied the man carefully. "For a bunch of soldiers who work for the UCA, you're pretty friendly." His voice remained calm, but there was clear suspicion behind every word. He kept himself between Mira and the strangers, ready to react if anyone made a wrong move. The smile on the soldier's face slowly disappeared. The men behind him exchanged uneasy glances, their expressions becoming much heavier. "You're talking

Barry shot to his feet so suddenly that his chair scraped loudly across the wooden floor. “What was that?” His upgraded eye glowed faintly blue as it activated on instinct. Everyone in the room immediately looked toward him. Jace let out a slow sigh and folded his arms. "I'm sure you heard me. Maybe you hate hearing it because it reminds you of how terribly you failed to have your friends' backs." Barry's fists slowly tightened until his knuckles turned white as he stared at Jace without blinking. The words struck harder than he wanted to admit. Jace refused to stop. "I mean, why the hell would you leave them alone only for you to fail to track and find them afterward?" "You bastard!" Barry exploded. His fist flew before anyone could react. It slammed into Jace's jaw with enough force to send him crashing across the living room. Jace rolled over the polished floor before slamming into the leg of a couch with a painful grunt. Barry marched toward him with fury written all over