Novel & Cerita Deeper Than Money

and International, are announcing their corporations are being sold for two trillion dollars. July 19th, they'll celebrate the new owners in Deep Woods, Michigan. I rewind the program and stare at Tristan. He's not facing the camera, but I can spot him anywhere. Unable to move, I stare at his image on my screen. Snapping out of my trance, I cut off the television. Early the next day, I grab a coffee and a few items I need from the college and head to my client's home. We sit conversing for about forty minutes before I get very queasy. As soon as I enter her bathroom, I vomit.

The muscle in his jaw twitched. "I know you'd come here one day looking for answers," the man continued. "It's your birthday today." A smile eased out of his lips. "I came to wish you this morning, but you were sleeping peacefully. As much as my heart is at ease, it also holds the fear that someday the hardships awaiting you will wipe off that peace." Aluxious's face was an impassive mask as he stared at his father's memory. "Your path is filled with deception and greed. The people here would do anything to be in your position. Their greed for power outweighs their morale."

Values and morals did not matter anymore. A smirk appeared on Russell's lips. "What a brave daddy's girl. I'm intrigued. But you see, sweetheart... I'm an impatient man." He moved away from her and turned his back on her. He walked to the right side of the room, where one of his men was standing. The man moved away, giving Russel the space to look at the picture frame that hung on the wall. It was Sasha's picture. It was taken at a time when she was much more carefree. The glint of ecstasy in her eyes and the smile lit up her olive toned face. "I gave your dearest daddy five months. He could not pay me back. So now, I want the payment. And I think…" his voice trailed away as he turned around

Every time he closes his eyes, haunting him. “Down.” He says, his voice meaningful. “I was down there. Amara, this capital is one whole maze. Places like this? This dingy hallway? It’s no accident that they miss places like this. They just don’t want to waste their time looking into the nook and crannies when they’re focus isn’t on the sidelines. They’re focus is down there. Down where the money is coming from.” I bite the inside of my cheek, “I want to understand, Gloc. So much. But you’re being so vague.”

“This is the part where you realize the board doesn’t move to the end of your table anymore.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Money,” he said. “Assets. Islands.” He laughed again, arrogantly this time. “I haven’t cared about money in decades.” I tilted my head. “Of course you haven’t. Money is just scaffolding.” His eyes sharpened slightly. “Power,” I finished, “is the finishing touch.” The room felt tighter, all figures in the room refusing to let anything or anyone out of their sights. I tapped the phone again.

I need to grow from end to end within and also beyond me. Hurt by the possible life's routes. Which says we are not for you. I research impossibilities in me, too. How much more pain can work for daily bread inflict on my brain? Why earn? Why at all earn? Independence through money comes in when you depend on wealth for your existence. Money doesn't make you wise. It just fulfils even your unnecessary dreams, too. Hurt by heights. I look down and then move. I know I am not for the corporate world for its flaws, not me. Not me at all.

He reminded me that he wasn't serving me any more, but I slammed my fist on the counter, shouting, "Who are you to make decisions for me?" My voice rang out, filled with anguish. "Jas relax, I'm only looking out for you," he tried to clarify but I interrupted, my voice escalating. "Joe! Stop telling me what to do! I can take care of myself!" Rummaging through my bag, I pulled out a wad of cash and slammed it onto the counter in front of Joe. “I have enough to cover my bills,” I spat, fury radiating from me, but beneath it lay an undercurrent of sorrow that I dared not show.

“But come on, Mr Moore! admit it. You are secretly relieved to see them fade away." Deep leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a playful smirk. "Alright, I'll confess. It's nice not having to deal with constant reminders of that horrible ordeal. I know some memories will never go away, but it always good not to be conspicuously reminded of thing like that always." Their banter filled the room with warmth, their shared laughter a testament to the ease of their companionship. Gia's teasing brought a lightness to the moment, adding a touch of levity to Deep's return to the routine of office life.

Pearl I nodded in agreement. “Good.” We were silent again. But it didn't feel heavy this time. It was sharp and focused, like every fucking thing had ended up narrowing in one direction. “If they’ve been doing this for a year,” I said slowly, “then this isn’t just about money.” “It is always about money, then something else.” “There is logistics.” “Yes.” “There is movement.” “Yes.” “And there's cover.” He looked at me. “Exactly.”

For some reason, I wanted to hear more from her. “Besides,” she said, “I’m not sure how much longer his money will last. Now that he has a new gold digger around.” I sucked in a breath through my teeth. Now she’d crossed a line. I flushed the toilet, flipped open the lock and pulled the stall door open. Rachel and Dena nearly jumped out of their heels when they saw me. I stood there for a moment, resting my eyes on each of them.