Novel & Cerita Bloodstained Money Farm

It’s so wrong. But Mom’s face won’t leave my head. The way she smiled at me last week even though she could barely keep her eyes open. And Mara’s angry texts. And Jonah’s drawings of monsters. And Miles on parole, one mistake away from going back to prison, calling me every week asking for money because he can’t hold down a job, can’t sleep, can’t function. And me. Sitting on a bathroom floor at dawn with eighty thousand dollars between my mother’s life and her death.

"Fiv⁠e thou‍sand do​llars​!" I​ threw the money roll. It‍ landed in the‌ mud in f⁠ro⁠nt of the gate. A scrawny figure scampere‌d d​own from t‍h⁠e pil‌e like a spider. It snatched the‍ money, sn‌iffed it, and scur⁠ried ba​c⁠k up. "P‍ape​r!" the voi‍ce spat. "‌Paper is useless her‌e! We want metal! We want meat!"

Yve explained to her mother as she finished her bowl of stew. Mirror was not a thing they have inside their house because they are far on the capital and does not have that much money to afford it. Mirror at these times were an indication of status in life. Only people with prestigious family and the royalties could have it. So, Yve doesn't have any opportunity to look on her reflection. She could only use her own twin to mirrorized her self. But their only difference is their hair color and their eyes. Luna is the one who's purely Albino but Yve had some features that are really different than her twin.

“I didn’t realize it was doing so well. Maybe we can add to it once I get my inheritance. I’ve been researching a new breed of horseflesh…” “It’s holding its own and we can do whatever you want with it, but I was referring to that money I was trying to tell you about,” he said as he pulled her close. Her soft hair caressed his solid chest as she snuggled close. He kissed the top of her head and whispered, “I’m worth three-million dollars, baby.”

There’s really a God in heaven and He actually answers prayers. “I gave you two million dollars just last week.” I say with all the calmness I can muster. “That completed the payment and our agreement. Which other money are you talking about?” Ever since I found those boys massacred at that abandoned farm, I haven’t had a proper night’s sleep. Not that my sleeping schedule was particularly rosy before, but I could at least get a few minutes of shut eye before the nightmares crawled in. Now, the nightmares are not giving me any reprieve. They pounce as soon as I shut my eyes, crowding me, suffocating me. Punishing me.

“No one is blaming you, we’re just complaining is all. And now that everything went to hell, we won’t even get the second half of our payment. And with how bad the slave trade is here in this country, we can’t even sell that bitch for much.” They all turned back and looked at me for a second, glaring at how hard I was struggling to keep up, before turning forward again. I sighed in relief as I had just wiped a handful of blood against a tree and hoped no one had noticed. The cut I made on my palm was already starting to pool some more, readying for the next target. With how much pain I was in, and how weak and dizzy I felt, having a clear objective was about the only thing keeping me going.

I go through each one carefully, finding anywhere from a few hundred to a few thousand dollars in cash in each of them. Retrieving the accounting records from the kitchen desk, I sit down beside the box to review them. There’s a slight surplus in the farm’s account from the previous year, enough to cover planting and harvesting costs—equipment and labor, seed, fertilizer and insecticides, irrigation— and taxes in the coming year, assuming no losses. Possibly enough to cover the probate costs. After that, only enough to cover the household costs. No repairs. But with what Juliet had in the lockbox, there’s potentially materials. What could I offer someone to help? The only thing I have is the

"It was rewritten. We moved the assets. We changed the names. The 'Blood-Merge' you built in Geneva? It’s a relic. It’s a ghost in a machine that I’ve already dismantled." Arthur sighed, a sound of genuine disappointment. "Dismantled? Silas, you’ve merely painted over the structural rot. The Greene Street Collective, the Arts Tower, even your 'Omen' over there..." He flicked a dismissive glance toward the server rack where Willa was hidden. "They are all collateral. They exist because I allowed the seed capital to remain untouched. But the interest is due. And I’ve come to collect the principal." He snapped his fingers. The six mercenaries raised their rifles, the red laser sights converging

I worked from dusk till dawn and still got beaten up for the slightest things, I would save money for my brother's tutoring fees only to find out he stole it. I dropped out of college and dedicated my whole life to him only for him to use me to pay his debts, like a useless slave he sold me off and now he wants me to throw my hands around him because he was forced to come to see me. There is no use crying over spilled milk, I thought as I finally drifted off to dreamland. I woke up the next morning a bit late and after taking my bath my nurse helped me put on the hospital gown. "You have a visitor Ma'am" She informed and I nodded thinking it was Mark so I put on a smile trying to act like I