Cadillac Pocketbook Novels & Stories

“Please. Just one thing today. One small mercy.” A low rumble approached. Not a taxi. Something bigger. I opened my eyes. A matte black Escalade eased to a stop directly in front of me, its body polished to a mirror finish. It was the kind of car that made people instinctively step aside on the pavement without being asked, the kind of car that looked like it could buy my entire generation and still have change left over. The tinted window slid down with a slow, expensive hiss that sounded unmistakably like money.

It was, after all, truly the city that never slept. Their driver, a tall man in a black coat with a discreet earpiece nestled in his ear, approached, taking their luggage and opening the back door of a sleek, black Cadillac SUV. Vincenzo gave a curt nod and climbed in without a word, his phone already in hand. Daisy hesitated for a second, stealing one more glance at the skyline before sliding into the seat beside him.

She commanded. Just before she slipped out of the office, Cassie found herself wondering how much trouble she would be in if she wrestled Bethany to the ground, gagged her, bound her limbs and left her in the office until someone found her and decided to let her go. In the company’s parking space, Cassie tried looking for a black Mercedes and then a blue one but she found that there were no cars like that present. Then she stood in the middle of the parking space and pressed a button on the car key. There was a beep from one of the cars. Cassie kept pressing the button and following the sound of the beeps until she came to Bethany’s car. It was a sterling silver Cadillac. How did someone for

It's flattering. The park's gate opened at the arrival of the car. Everything seems to be operated electronically. As he drove into the courtyard, my eyes stumbled upon other cars that were in the fleet. Among the cars was a Rolls Royce Boat Tail and Bugatti la Voiture Noire, one of those cars will take my entire life savings. I got out of the car after Mr. Alvarez and his bodyguard, while Carlos sat still in the car. "You don't expect me to get to the door myself do you? You've got a job." He said to me while he folded his hand.

I stopped walking. “No. No, no, no.” He turned, confused. “That’s not what I want,” I said calmly. “I want expensive—but not too expensive.” Michelle raised an eyebrow, amused. I nodded toward a silver Chrysler 200 S parked a few rows over. Clean. Understated. Fast enough to disappear when needed. “What about that one, sugar?” I said. Elliot hesitated. “I don’t think that really fits you, sir. Perhaps something larger? A Chrysler 300? Or maybe even a Crown Victoria from Ford—very reliable.”

The next day, I maneuver my luxurious Mercedes-Benz into the parking lot. As usual, it is the center of attention on the campus, with heads turning to admire my baby for the umpteenth time. Alongside Alpha Romero and Beta Jace's Cadillac Escalade and Maserati Levante Trofeo, my ride is the most expensive in the car park, but actually in the pack as well.

He smiled, pulling the passenger door open for me. I got in and whistled. The interior was straight-up sin. Soft carbon-black leather, blue neon trim, a center console that looked like an alien spaceship control panel. "Nice. Very discreet, Creed." He smiled as he climbed into the driver's seat. "It's not an Aston Martin." I blinked. "Excuse me?" "It's a McCreed." I glared at him like he'd lost his last brain cell. "A what now?"

Elizabeth's point of view: We got down to the parking lot, where a pure white Cadillac Escalade limo sat waiting just in front of the elevator. As soon as we stepped out, the driver rushed forward, fumbling to open the door for Richard. But Richard stopped him, "The lady first." Richard instructed. And the driver nodded redirecting his efforts to me. I tried not to blush as I stepped inside, my breath hitching at the sheer luxury surrounding me. The interior was sleek, with plush leather seats, a TV screen, and crystal-clear wine glasses arranged neatly beside a fully stocked mini fridge. It was the kind of car that screamed wealth, the kind I had only ever seen in movies.

"There is a full entertainment system in the back. And the sound system is incredible. You could listen to music at full volume and it would still sound like a live orchestra." Cora slid into the driver's seat, her hands gripping the steering wheel. It felt surreal. Like she was sitting in a prop from a movie about rich people, not an actual car that apparently belonged to her. "There is something in the glove compartment," Alexander said. "Take a look." Cora opened the glove compartment with trembling hands. Inside was a small leather folder. She pulled it out and opened it. Her breath stopped. It was the purchase receipt. For the car. And the number at the bottom made her head spin.

That must be her name, Xandra Kallan. Beautiful. In the parking lot, I pointed the alarm button at the row of cars in front of me. The menacing headlights of a black, supercharged Chevelle lit up. A beast on wheels. Liam, you have badass taste! The interior of the Chevelle was flawless—right down to custom-made sport bucket seats. The center console housed a touch-screen navigation and media system, adding sugar to the pot as I entered Fuck, yeah! When I was done admiring the car, I searched for my registration in the glove compartment.