Credit Secrets Book Novels & Stories

**Ruby** “It’s lovely to finally meet you, my dear.” Viktor said as he kissed my hand. “We have so much to talk about. I have brought some of the scrolls from our archives. I came across three prophacies that are very similar, by that I mean minor detail that are identical but the outcomes are drastically different.” “Ruby,” I looked at Dez. “I haven’t told you about my meeting with Viktor, because I knew you would have questions that I can not answer.”

The pages consists of names, not just any names familiar names, accounts, Dates, payment credit history with the list of debts cleared. My heart begins to race as it dawns on me what this means, of what am currently reading. As I flip and read the voice of my lawyer asking me if I had asked for help because most of the money I owed had been cleared off by someone. “This isn’t real,” I whisper in shock as I flip back and forth going over the names and accounts. “It is, Every threat against you has been handled.”He said and I looked up sharply at him.

He downloaded the file, entered the password, and held his breath. The file unpacked into a labyrinth. Spreadsheets. Bank wire transfer records from Cayman Island and Cypriot banks. Invoices from what looked like dormant corporations. And at its center, a master ledger. It took Davidson's trained eye, honed by years of unraveling complex corporate networks, only seconds to realize what he was seeing. This was Victor Brandt's secret financial life. A meticulously recorded, but utterly damning, trail of deception.

’ ‘What’s important is to remain calm through the whole process and ensure that you remain a trusted bank employee,’ he continued. ‘But I’m still remaining with a few chapters to conclude my book,’ she said protesting. ‘I know how critical the book is, that’s the more reason you should memorize the middle two chapters by heart. Your life will depend on those. Remember, it's poetic, and people will just remain speculating on what the words were meant to be.’ ‘By now you should have related everything to the title of the book. It’s there where everything is hidden - it’s the alpha and the omega of this project.’

The drainage pipe was becoming claustrophobic, the air heavy with the scent of damp rust and decay. "Trust is a luxury for the retired, Adrian. You’re currently a fugitive with a dying liability on your back. You don’t need trust. You need to keep moving." Sebastian hesitated, a rare flicker of something—hesitation? guilt?—seeping through the line. "And Adrian? Don't let him go. If Victor dies, the encryption keys for the Basel files die with him. You lose the leverage, and then, truly, you are just a broken machine waiting to be scrapped."

I whispered, my hands shaking as I sprinted toward the towering, wooden shelves filled with the oldest leather scrolls in the territory. I began tearing the heavy books down, my claws accidentally slicing through some of the fragile, yellowed parchment as the desperate panic inside my gut grew into a deafening roar. The spirit realm was always treated as a myth by the modern Alphas, a bedtime story told to young pups about a dark, parallel forest where the souls of the dead Alphas go to rest after their mortal bodies turn to dust. But as I opened a massive, silver-bound text titled The First Threshold, the true, horrifying nature of that hidden world began to bleed through the ancient ink.

When Cassy saw the prices of these books she sighed and asked Steven if he wanted to go look for him because the cheapest book in that section was worth 1 500 credits and it was a sealed book for the yellow flame that she didn't have access to at the moment. Steven shook his head and he smiled at her before saying, "Right now I don't have enough credit to buy the books I want, but Glen gave to the 3 of us books to make new marks. Only, he forbade us to make them while we were in class with the others because those books came from the place we found yesterday." Cassy smiled at him and then she said to him, "Come with me to my room then, we can go to my pocket dimension and while I will make m

"Where did they get that much money? If they were wealthy from the start, Vanezoir shouldn't have left debts in the first place, and Angela should have been able to cure her illness without any obstacles." Taylor didn't understand; Nania didn't even explain where the money came from. Nania only explained that the money was now stored in the bank, and only Carista had the right to redeem the inheritance. "Has Carista been lying to me all this time? She's not actually living in poverty; she's just pretending to look pitiful, even though she's a lowly prostitute!" Taylor's thoughts branched out in all directions; the man with a cleft in his chin now had an even heavier task. He had to find out

I shook my head, attempting to shake the thoughts of what I knew was in those bags. “Sono soldi cattivi.” (It’s bad money.) Carlos let out a loud chuckle, he was laughing at how ridiculous I sounded. “Emiliana, non esistono soldi buoni o cattivi. Solo denaro.” (There is no such thing as good money or bad money. It’s just money.) He stepped past me, picking up one of the bags and fishing out an envelope. “So che è difficile per voi, ma lui ha un buon cuore.” (I know you are finding this difficult, but he has a good heart.) Carlos handed me the cream envelope, my name written in block capitals along the front, so formal. “Ci sono cose che non capirete mai se non aprite questo.” (There are thin