Novels by Male book Pro writer

The hall erupted in a cacophony of shocked gasps and derisive laughter. Guests who'd been watching from a distance now pressed closer, eager to witness the spectacle."Did he just insult the Baker and Baldwin families?" someone whispered loudly."He called them trash!" another voice answered with scandalized delight."Is he suicidal? Completely insane?"Amelia's shrill voice cut through the murmurs. "See? I told you he was crazy! He's lost his mind along with his fortune!""The Baker and Baldwin families together could challenge an A-ranked house!" one of my former classmates shouted. "They have resources, armies, and political connections! And you—you're nothing! A ghost from a dead family!""He doesn't understand what he's dealing with," another guest said, shaking his head. "This isn't the old days. The power structure has changed. The Reynolds are history."Ridge’s expression had transformed from anger to something darker—a predatory amusement. He began to laugh, a sound like grin

The Peninsula Hotel stood like a monument to wealth and power, its white marble facade gleaming in the morning sun. Red carpets cascaded down the entrance steps. Luxury vehicles lined the circular driveway, each one worth more than most people earned in a lifetime.The wedding of Rostella Baker and Preson Baldwin. The event of the season."My Lord, the security is extensive," Serena observed quietly as our car pulled to a stop several blocks away. "At least fifty guards, multiple checkpoints, facial recognition at the entrance.""I noticed." I studied the building through the tinted window. "Wait here with the squad. I'm going in alone.""My Lord—""If I need you, I'll signal." I met her concerned gaze. "Trust me, Serena."She bowed her head reluctantly. "As you command, War God."I slipped out of the vehicle and melted into the crowd of guests making their way toward the hotel. The guards checked invitations meticulously, but guards only see what they expect to see. A slight adjustme

Charles lay sprawled on the filthy floor, his designer suit soaked with vomit and tears. He pressed his forehead to the ground, kowtowing desperately."War God, please! I'm begging you! I'll do anything! Anything!" His voice cracked with hysteria. "I'll serve you! I'll work for free! I'll—I'll cut off my own hand if you want! Just please, tell Mr. Vaughn to reverse his decision!"No one responded. Jonathan was already directing his medical team toward Benjamin, issuing quiet orders. Serena stood motionless beside me, her expression carved from stone. I watched Charles grovel with the detached interest one might give a dying insect.His phone erupted with a shrill ringtone that made him flinch violently.Charles's shaking hands fumbled for the device. "F-Father?"Even from where I stood, I could hear the roar that exploded from the speaker."WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" The voice was raw with panic, utterly unhinged. "WHAT DID YOU DO, YOU WORTHLESS BASTARD?""Father, I—I can explain—""EXPLAIN

The silence that followed Charles's last boast felt heavy, oppressive. Then Mila's voice cut through it, small and desperate."Young Master... Father needs his painkillers. He takes them every six hours just to function." Her hands twisted together anxiously. "If the Reed family cuts off his supply, he'll—he'll suffer terribly. The pain from his shattered legs is unbearable without medication."Benjamin reached for her hand weakly. "Mila, don't—""She's right to worry," Charles interrupted, his confidence surging back now that he'd regained some composure. His swollen face twisted into something grotesque—a leer that made my skin crawl. "Old man Benjamin's going to be screaming in agony by tomorrow morning. Begging for relief that will never come.""You monster," Milawhispered."Monster?" Charles laughed, examining his nails casually. "I prefer 'pragmatic businessman.' But you know what? I'm feeling generous today. Despite being assaulted—" He touched his bruised cheek dramatically. "

"Charles," I said, my voice cutting through his threats like a blade through smoke. "You don't need to concern yourself with Benjamin's treatment anymore. I'll handle everything."Charles's head snapped toward me, eyes narrowing. "Who the hell are you supposed to be?"Before I could answer, his gaze slid past me and locked onto Serena. His expression transformed—predatory interest replacing irritation. He took a step toward her, completely dismissing me."Well, hello there, gorgeous," Charles purred, his voice dripping with false charm. "What's a stunning woman like you doing in this dump? You must be new in town."Serena's face remained perfectly blank, carved from ice."Let me introduce myself properly." Charles ran a hand through his styled hair. "Charles Dawson. Heir to the Reed Pharmaceutical Empire. I could show you what real luxury looks like—fancy restaurants, designer clothes, a penthouse view. All you have to do is ditch whatever loser you're with and—"The slap echoed throu

Mila’s home was a testament to suffering—cracked walls, a sagging roof, furniture held together by hope and desperation. This was what loyalty to my family had cost them."Father! Father, he's here!" Mila pushed through the door, her voice bright with emotion. "Young Master Damian came back!"I followed her inside, Serena silent at my shoulder. The room was dim, lit by a single weak bulb. And there, in a battered wheelchair by the window, sat Benjamin Everett .Time had ravaged him. White hair, hollow cheeks, trembling hands. But when his eyes met mine, recognition flared like a dying ember suddenly fed oxygen."Young Master?" His voice cracked. "Young Master Damian? Is it truly you?""It's me, Uncle Benjamin." I crossed the room and knelt before him. "I'm home."The old steward's composure shattered. Tears carved paths down his weathered face as he reached for me with shaking hands. "You survived. Heaven be praised, you survived."I took his hands—so frail now, so cold—and my gaze fe