Novel & Cerita Blue Bloods Hard Bargain

"Like I said, he took ten mil from us as a deposit and then refused to fulfill our order, stealing my money. So how do you intend to settle this?" Red was speechless. She knew that Caleb was scamming them, but she also knew that if she got him upset, her head would fly, and the rest of her would be dismembered! And she really didn't want to die! Meanwhile, the rubberneckers were in shock and clamoring. "Wait, the Blackmoon Traders were scamming them?" "Shit, what are they buying that would cost ten million in a single receipt?" "That's just amazing. No wonder those folks are killing everyone they see!"

At first, it was quiet enough to be almost sleepy, but as the hour aged, vendors unrolled tarp roofs and the buyer’s din ratcheted up, a stew of bargaining voices and the yapping of dogs. Xander walked with his hand open, loose at his thigh. Carolina shadowed him, scanning high and low. They sidestepped a fistfight at the bread stand, dodged a shakedown near the oil drums. When they finally spotted the trader, he was exactly where Morgan had said—by the loading bay with two goons and a green plastic crate. The negotiation was fast, ugly, and just loud enough to catch the wrong ears. Carolina was halfway through counting the vials when the man behind the goons smiled too wide, and Xander’s fi

“This is insane. You’re talking about me walking into Kol’s territory and offering him insider access to Mason like I’m some kind of... Creep. You really think he’d go for that?” “I know he would,” Hardin says without hesitation. “But not for free.” “Of course not,” I mutter. “Nothing with him is ever free.” “That’s why you make a deal.” I narrow my eyes. “What kind of deal?” Hardin studies me for a second. “Quarter stake.” I blink. “What?” “A quarter of one of his luxury developments,” he says calmly. “Or access to one. Something big enough.” I actually laugh this time... “You’ve completely lost it. He’d never agree to that.”

“A bargain. Another one.” Cruz’s whole body stiffened. “No.” “You don’t even know the terms yet,” Ghost murmured. “I don’t care,” Cruz snapped. “I won’t bargain with you again.” “Again?” Blade repeated, his eyes narrowing. Cruz ignored him, his focus locked on Ghost. “You want me? Fine. Take me. But you leave them out of it.” Ghost chuckled. “Ah, the noble sacrifice. But that’s not the game, Cruz. The game is blood. Your blood, her blood, their blood. The question is whose runs first.”

"Next, Desmond was brought up to the stage but he looked weak and powerless. He was glaring at the host with his blue eyes, but even so, his gaze was still so alluring." I'll bid five million. Someone had begun to bid for him. I'll pay five million and five hundred thousand dollars! The people below raised the price like a bunch of fanatics. "As Mango looked at him from above, she marveled at the existence of such a person. Setting aside his stunning appearance, Mango had never heard of anyone with blue blood. " Is his blood really blue? Mango looked at Marissa as she spoke.

“Two hundred thousand. Do I hear two twenty?” No one moved. “Two hundred thousand going once… going twice…” “Wait!” Sage blurted. “You can’t just—” “Sold,” the auctioneer said, slamming his gavel. The room erupted into murmurs, but Sage’s ears were ringing. Damian Cross had just bought Bluebird Café.

She frowned pensively, looking back at her reflection and swishing the skirts. "Well, why not, love? You deserve to look just as beautiful as all the others there." Katrice stepped closer, snatching a matching blue shawl from a stand, and wrapped it around Sapphira's shoulders. "I can't afford this, Katrice," Sapphira said quietly, blushing. She had seen the price tag when she struggled to get it on a few minutes earlier and nearly fainted. Katrice hummed and stepped back, looking Sapphira and the dress up and down.

They weren’t sure why I was here, but I could see the gears turning in their heads. I leaned back in my chair, fingers tapping against the polished wood of the table. “Let’s make this simple,” I began, my tone calm and confident. “I’m here to buy.” The chairman, a man in his late sixties with a neatly trimmed beard, raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Hollandale, our company isn’t for sale.” “Everything is for sale,” I said with a faint smirk. “It’s just a matter of price.” A younger board member, probably in his early thirties, leaned forward. “With all due respect, Mr. Hollandale, what exactly are you planning to do with our company? We’ve been doing well on our own.”