Claim Book Novels & Stories

As it stood, every rancher in town had a claim. Sarah gasped from the other side of the room. Jack sat up straight. That look of exhaustion quickly transformed into one of rage. "What do ya mean?" "I called in the claim to get an adjuster out. They said the premiums weren't paid when the policy renewed in February." I didn't go on to tell Jack, or Sarah, that multiple letters had been sent to Cross Acres that went unanswered or that calls had been ignored. It wouldn't do any good, not now. There was no point in adding insult to injury.

I was doomed. We went to the reception to make our inquiries. The receptionist had an attitude and got on our nerves, but we needed her help so badly that we had to woman up and take it. "Please I need to know if a customer by the name Jasper, left any details," I requested and she looked at me as If I had asked her a dumb question. "We do not disclose our.." I did not let her finish when I placed money on the desk. "Please, lives depend on this information," I said to her, and her expression turned from bitchy to concerned.

She shuddered, satisfying both him and his wolf. “When are you going back to work, Tasha?” asked Sansa pleasantly, most likely looking forward to Tasha and Onyx being separated during the daytime so she could get him alone. Tramp. “Not until the place is fixed up,” replied Tasha just as pleasantly. The insurance company was dragging its heels, which was infuriating Jean. Unlike with Sansa, Kate’s friendly tone was authentic. “Have you thought of applying for another job?” “That’s already covered.” At her mate’s shocking words, Tasha slowly turned her head to look at him. “Already covered?”

Alpha Ronan's Pov The elder continued, 'Your entitlements will be withheld pending the outcome of your case. You will be escorted away from here, and your belongings and those of your entourages are already gathered outside for you. Do not make your situation worse and remember, you are one misstep away from making your Beta the happiest wolf alive.'

I giggled. "You're generous," he placed a kiss on my cheek and reached in his pocket to get his wallet out. I didn't even think he carried that around. He opened it and I couldn't see what he took out until he handed a black card to me. "Get whatever you want with this," I looked down to see a credit card. "The limit is large enough for you," I looked at him, not taking the card. "Chris-" "Aella, take it. I insist."

The phone on my dresser buzzed with a message from my contact: "Timeline moved to 48 hours. Be ready." I typed back a single word: "Confirmed."

he cackled up a barrel of laughs, infuriating me further. “Fine ! I agree to your stupid bet but know this that you will be S’ed in the B so bad. Whoever wins and get his or her name in the Hall of Fame, can ask for anything from the other. Deal ?” I asked as I put forward my hand. “You better buy sunscreen for yourself, Joy Stone. You are going to be burned like hell. Deal,” he accepted all the terms and conditions of the bet as he shook my hand. “Get ready for your life to get worse from one to damn !"

His secretary, a meticulously efficient woman named Brenda, stood before his desk, her face pale, her hands clasped tightly. “Explain this, Brenda,” Damon stated, his voice dangerously low, each word a hammer blow. He held up a digital tablet, displaying a meticulously compiled report of his personal calendar. The entries for the past three weeks were glaringly blank, devoid of the crucial, highly sensitive notations he had specifically instructed her to maintain.

“Don’t you dare.” “Oh, I will dare if you don't do what I say; remember, I have recordings.” "You're crazy; I'm not fucking old folks for you to pass.” “Then I'll just ask my man to hit post…” He reached down for his phone, and just as he almost unlocked it, I stopped him by agreeing. "I'll do it.”

She has been staring at her computer for a while, then, on two occasions, left to what I assume is her boss’s office. “Mrs. Valenti, I’m sorry, but we can’t process your claim at this time.” The words snap me out of my thoughts, and I frown. “What?” She sighs, flipping through a file as if she’s stalling. “There’s a… complication.” I narrow my eyes. “What complication?” She clears her throat and folds her hands neatly over the file, as if that will soften the blow. “Your husband’s life insurance payout is being contested by another beneficiary.”