Novel & Cerita Billy Bathgate Book

This was bad—he didn't remember me at all. Billy was the grandson of Patrick Newman, the butler at the Greven residence. When we were kids, we played together. As he grew up, however, he squandered his time on gambling, drinking, and partying. His father sent him abroad, and we hadn't seen each other since. He must've only returned recently, completely unaware of what had happened in the past. Seeing me in a mess, Norris finally stepped in. "Billy, is it? Don't ruin her face, please. I'm sure Mr. Greven likes her because of her looks…"

"Oh?" "When Felix, Wilbur, and I went to force money out of the Hilton family earlier today, Grote thought that Babbit sent us. He ended up giving Felix and me ten thousand gold coins each, but Wilbur got a hundred thousand gold coins on his own. Grote thought that Babbit sent us to rob the Hilton family… so I doubt he's going to remain loyal to Babbit after this."

He closed his mouth and nodded once, bowing his head in shame. Nobody else at the table said anything. Gary, my legal director was already jotting something down. That was why I still had him after six years when three of his predecessors had not lasted three months. He listened to what was said, wrote them down, and did not fill my ear with unnecessary noise. "The Berlin preliminary is still worth pursuing," I said. "I want revised numbers by Thursday.” Heads nodded across the table. “We're done." Everyone stood up immediately, their chairs scraping back. They gathered their laptops and documents and started filling out.

The applause was thunderous, and for the first time in weeks, Sophia felt a sense of triumph. --- A Sudden Blow But the victory was short-lived. As Sophia and Lucas mingled with the attendees, Chris approached with a grim expression. “We have a problem,” he said, handing them a tablet. The screen displayed a breaking news headline: “Scandal at Muller Corp: Sean Muller’s Shady Deals Resurface.” Sophia’s heart sank as she read the article. It detailed a questionable business deal her father had made years ago, twisting the facts to imply that Sophia had benefited from it.

Aside from the system notice confirming the deal, there was nothing. I paused, then clicked into the buyer's profile. That was when I noticed something wrong. His profile picture was greyed out. The account had been deleted. If there was nothing to hide, why delete the account so quickly? Those suggestive photos kept replaying in my mind. The more I thought about it, the more unsettled I felt. I took the entire next day off. Triumph Hotel. I had to see for myself. … The next morning, Chloe acted like nothing had happened, casually handling one of her other cameras.

Just one hope—My parents' house. Getting out of the cab, I dragged my luggage into the big family house compound where the moment of childhood came in afresh. We couldn't even eat three squares a day. Going to the charity night was a blessing to my family. I was there to be helped and I believe I found grace but it started to get into my head after all of this happened. My eyes scrutinised the parking garage and I saw two cars parked outside. Brian made this possible. He must have thought I was some gold digger because of my parents' constant requests.

He turned to her, his smile turning pleasant as he lied, “Something funny, bae. It was just our enemies’ downfall.” “Which means you didn’t hear me earlier?” Agatha asked, her voice laced with disbelief. “No. What did you say?” Collins replied, trying to sound casual. Agatha sighed in frustration and repeated her question, her tone edged with annoyance. “Are you talking about Mr. Lawson and Mr. Maxwell’s deal?” Collins asked, his gaze still fixed on the road ahead.

Ding! Ding! The doorbell chimed softly. 'Huh? Who could it be by this time?' Amelia muttered as she closed the book she was reading, her eyes glancing at the wall clock. Ding! It chimed again. 'Tom? Could it be Tom?' she wondered, setting the book aside as she made hurried steps to the door. "Tom _-" she called excitedly as soon as she reached for the door handle. But her words caught in her throat when she saw the person by the door.

So this was how it was going to go, Blake Shite slammed her laptop closed and sat back in her very comfy office chair. She'd been locked up in her home for a week, trying to put words to her new book. But nothing. Not a single word made it onto the screen, her fingers hovered, typed, deleted. Over and over. She rubbed a hand over her tired eyes and stood, stretching her back. She would go down to the kitchen, make herself a cup of coffee, toast and try again. Her phone rang on her desk and she glared down at it. Her agent, Donna, again. She growled at the phone, ignored it, and went down to her kitchen. Blake didn't have time to deal with Donna now, as her friend, Donna understood that she w