Boujee Book Novels & Stories

The moment I reached the front, a bouncer stopped me with his hand. “You need to go to the back of the line.” his face was stern as he stared at me. I stared at him for a second. Then I reached into my purse and pulled out a thick bundle of cash, slipping a thousand dollars into his hand. His eyes widened instantly, before a smile spread across his face. “Welcome,” he said quickly, stepping aside. “Welcome to Onyx Seramis.” I simply walked past him, and stepped into the club, the music blasting right into my eardrums.

The weird exchange with the cute waitress seemed to be over. Trey traded the wine list for Zane’s zippered leather case. He opened it, pulled out the stack of bound pages, and flipped through them. Though his movements were swift, Zane knew his friend was reading. As he did, his expressive lips began curving. “You want to call your business The Bad Boys Club?” “It conveys a feeling. Exclusive but still fun.” “I agree.” Trey turned a few pages back and forth. “This is a big plan, Zane. A magazine. Luxury vacation properties.” His saturnine eyebrows quirked. “A fleet of fractional jets?”

No billion-dollar deals, no mole hiding in the walls of my company, no betrayal siphoning ten million away, they all melted away. Araceli was lounging on the couch, casual and at ease in one of my shirts and a blue shorts. This was quickly becoming her favorite thing to lounge in and I definitely enjoyed seeing her in the oversized outfit. I have seen her in those countless times, yet every time, it looked like something fresh. Her head turned slightly, the book she had been reading temporarily forgotten, as she smiled, that quiet smile she gave just for me. “Look who is back from his day of world-saving,” she teased as I set the kids down.

Beaches of Normandy. Ares. I released a sigh in successful completion of another business deal. The only reason I wasn't even in the slightest bit what people described as happy was because it felt like a futile investment in its intrinsic sense. Throwing away a good million dollars just to milk a woman's emotion into staying with me felt useless. As I could have had her in less than an hour if I just decided to flirt with her for as much a minute…

This was enough time for his curse to take effect and the girl forgets that they ever had a conversation. ‘How can anyone donate these books in such pristine condition?’ he thought. He looks around inside the boutique to see if anyone would catch him sneak them out. There are not-so-hidden cameras on the boutique’s entrance, but the recordings will automatically delete itself once he is gone. The set is pricey, but he knows he can get away with it regardless. He plans to make a run for the entrance – it’s a swift way to get away from someone’s line of sight, but it would be too conspicuous. Walking calmly would take too slow and he might get caught stealing, which is a momentary memory of em

"Really? I thought so too when I watched me this morning. The book must be working." "What book?" Bar asked Horr. "A book I bought. it was titled: 'How To Become A Great Host!'. Written by Joe Tiger." Horr explained but Wilson and Bar had no idea who the writer was. "Joe Tiger?" Bar asked. "Yes! Joe Tiger!" Horr repeated, looking at Bar as if expecting him to know this Joe. Bar shook his head. "Still doesn't ring a bell?" Horr pressed on. "No!" Bar shook his head. "You... how could you forget just like that?" Horr looked hurt and pouted. It looked kind of funny; a fearful looking giant giving such a face.

“Bree, what was that?” Brianna was occupied flipping through the first book, so she didn’t answer at first. He saw her shocked expression and got by her side to check the name of the book she was reading. ‘The peacemaker fallacy: waging war as a business strategy’ Nate frowned, trying to make sense out the title. “Bree, what is it?” “Love… it’s about the Council. All of them, look.” She got a few pieces of paper that didn’t belong to any book and showed him what she saw.

At the moment, it felt like extra work. She sighed as she gave in to her laziness and picked up an old copy of 'HER' an Aunty had left behind after visiting three years ago. The front cover showed a beautiful light skinned girl, slim yet with mature curves. She had beautiful eyes, a pointed nose, full lips and the biggest afro Weruche had ever seen. 'How to be bold, beautiful and totally afro' the article said and intrigued, Weruche opened up.

I joked. Ate Jossie is kind. She's like a typical gossipy mother that you have to joke with and befriend so she won't gossip about you. Besides, what could she possibly gossip about me when I barely show my face on our street? After work, I rarely go out because I'm usually asleep. I only go out to buy food. While I waited for my change, more people suddenly showed up at the store. All men. Suddenly, it smelled expensive. I wanted to turn around but was too embarrassed because they were all men.

“Don’t mistake professionalism for interest.” “Sweetheart,” he drawled, turning into the boutique’s driveway, “I don’t mistake anything.” She exhaled a quiet breath, reminding herself she didn’t care what Warren thought. Or what anyone thought for that matter. Except she did. She cared that she was about to step into a boutique she always came to with her best friend who took shopping at a leisurely activity. Now she couldn't even afford an Uber. Cassie sighed. --- Aubrielle Atelier gleamed like a glass cathedral. It smelled of white roses and new fabric and money. Old money.