Blood Money Book Review Novels & Stories

I bite out furiously. Not once have I ever been mutilated during a job and I really didn’t want this to change my spotless record. This should have been a fucking easy job. In no scenario did I think I would be ending up holed up in a room with Cassian playing psycho with his knife set.. He studies my face carefully for a second before speaking. “Do you believe in debts written in blood.” “No.” I snort, “Blood debts are a relic that belong in the past.”.

Werewolves. That was the Ashford legacy. She hadn’t understood it until she was old enough to read through the family’s old journals: heavy leather-bound books with cramped writing. The stories were always the same, The Ashfords hunting wolves. The Ashfords wiping out entire packs. The Ashfords fighting alphas under blood moons. Some of them even traded their blood for silver steel. That was her family’s pride. And her prison.

It didn’t scream. That was worse. I unfolded it slowly. The words swam for a moment before settling. My sweet girl, If you are reading this, then I have failed you in the only way that matters. I wanted to believe that loving you would be enough to keep you safe. I was wrong. There are men who use blood as ownership and memory as a weapon. If one of them ever tells you that you belong to him—know that he is lying. You belong only to yourself. My throat closed.

Did they really think no one would find it? "You've embezzled quite a lot of the pack's money. It's no wonder you're a very wealthy man. Some would write it off as generational wealth but this," I lifted the book, "tells me otherwise." I could practically see the sweat rolling down the side of his head and the sound of his erratic heart beat. He was starting to panic and give off subtle traces of fear yet, he still had the audacity to try to deny his crimes. "I know not what you-"

They remembered Sipho before money rewrote him. They distort outcomes, the darkness warned. They create noise. Sipho resisted. “They’re blood,” he said. The darkness pressed gently against his heart. And blood is currency. The first death in that phase was subtle. An aunt who slipped in her bathroom. Officially an accident. Privately, a correction. Sipho felt the ripple—money unlocking, negotiations smoothing, obstacles dissolving. The second came faster. A cousin overdosed after Sipho rerouted funds he had depended on. Sipho felt a flicker of guilt—then relief.

I never expected to receive compensation. When I looked at the notification message that had just appeared on my phone, I could not help asking: “Where did this money come from?” The system answered immediately. [Compensation funds originate from the assets of the Lawson Group.] [Assets were legally liquidated and transferred under system administration before being transported across worlds.] [Source verified as compliant. Host bears no future liability or repayment obligations.] So it was the Lawson family’s money. I had always assumed nothing from that world could follow me back.

To the new leader of the blood-born, Malakai was the ultimate prize—a never-ending, self-replenishing blood bag of pure sustenance. The entity pulled back, its jagged jaw smeared with Malakai's bright, vibrant crimson blood. The monster let out a low, vibrating hum of sheer satisfaction. With a casual, effortless tug, it hauled Malakai's limp, paralyzed body out of the mud by his ruined silk collar, dragging him backward toward the edge of the cliff like a piece of slaughtered meat.

His desk sat under the window, heavy and immaculate, the safe tucked neatly behind a false panel in the wall. She’d watched him open it enough times to memorize the code. “Two… seven… three… nine,” she whispered, her fingers steady even as her pulse raced. The lock clicked open. Bundles of cash filled the shelves. Old gold coins. A few black books filled with names, dates, sins, really. She took the money and two of the books. She didn’t know why, maybe just instinct. Knowledge was currency, too. Her reflection caught in the glass cabinet: pale skin, her blonde hair,now drab, eyes rimmed red from tears. She looked like someone’s ghost.

Damon stood up and reached for something in his back pocket, Harry tilted his head as he searched with a confused look on his face. "Looking for this?" Harry raised the gun Damon was holding a few minutes ago and his eyes almost popped out of its socket. "You know, it's pretty funny how you think you are smart just because you do well with books, you act like you know it all because you are manipulative, but you forget you are useless when it comes to stuff like this, I'd rather be street smart and strong than to be like you. You should be lucky I don't feel like spilling blood today" Harry enunciated and emptied the gun taking all the bullets he let throw the gun on the ground.

In my eyes he looked like a sac of meat and bones, one second away from these chains he’ll be six feet under. “You don’t want to send me to Kayla, I could give you more than she offers.” I bargained feeling the shiver of fear crawl down my spin. It was more of a thing of ego, I didn’t want to be at the mercy of that gutter-queen. “Oh really you’ll pay double of what she’s offering?” the man at the front said, slightly amused. “Money isn’t the powerful resource in this world, that book you hold have things that people would slaughter others for,”