Dirty Money Book Novels & Stories

Michael had used to blackmail me was already neutralized. I stepped onto the stage, walking toward Daniel as the “Black Ledger” began to scroll behind us—thousands of lines of embezzled funds, forged signatures, and the Macau gambling debts that had hollowed out the Blackwood soul. “The truth is a foundation, Daniel,” I said, my voice carrying through the silent hall without the help of a microphone. “But you forgot one thing about foundations.” I reached out and grabbed his hand, the one still clutching the useless remote. I squeezed it, leanng in close so only he could hear me over the gasps of the elite.

After a few seconds she returned holding three books in her hands. She handed them to me “what’s going on?” she asked. “You can go, I will let you know if there’s something I need” I replied without answering her question. Abigail left my office while I opened the first book and went through it, word for word and digit for digit. In the first book there were no mistakes or anything but the money written there wouldn’t afford to build such an expensive office. I also went through the other two books that were left and I still couldn’t find anything suspicious. But of course, a drug dealer would never expose their monies if they used a book store and a coffee shop to launder it, with the coffe

I’d always been dirty. But I couldn’t stay the fuck away anymore. I needed to distract myself. Finding what Emile was on about was as good a distraction as any. I didn't take my eyes off the entrance of the twenty-story SSC building. It was a high-end establishment with a bar, a boutique catering to the rich, a fine dining restaurant exclusively serving to gold members. There was a pool, jacuzzis, saunas, gyms and boutiques of highly exclusive brands and rare niceties—everything that catered to the senses of the elites.

Charlie I felt morally disgusted with myself for having sunk to such a low level. I’d made a deal with the devil, just to save my company from falling into Jessica’s hands. When I came up with the concept of More, it was Richard who backed me when no one else would give me a chance. Without his financial support, I wouldn't have ever got the company off the ground. He's done some pretty questionable things in his personal life and I've turned a blind eye to it until now. Maybe if I had stepped in sooner I could have avoided all of this, but let's face it, even I couldn't have prevented King Dick's ultimate downfall.

He took a deep breath. “Five years ago, Derek embezzled a significant amount of money from the family company. He covered it up well. Fake invoices, offshore accounts, the works. I found out during an internal audit. I confronted him privately in his office one night. I told him I would handle it quietly if he paid it back and stepped down from any decision-making role. I didn’t want to destroy the family.” Roman’s voice grew tighter.

This time, she sat. The leather was expensive. Everything in this room probably costs more than her monthly salary. Adrian took his seat across from her and slid a thick folder across the desk. “What’s that?” she asked. “Your lifeline.” She opened it cautiously. Legal language greeted her. Dense. Precise. Intimidating. “NDA?” she asked. “Yes.” “Plural?” “Yes.” She flipped pages, eyes widening. “Non-disclosure, non-disparagement, media conduct—are you serious?”

His stank of expensive scotch, old money, and carefully buried sins. The club on Fifth Street, that’s where they always went. A nest for predators in suits. Hidden behind black glass and velvet ropes, like secrecy itself had a price tag. I walked in knowing exactly what I’d find, men pretending they owned the world, trading it one piece at a time. I’d spent a week mapping his life. His contacts, his dirty money, his skeletons. I knew what he ate, who he fucked, when he lied. Men like him thought they were untouchable, but all it took was the right kind of silence to hear them breathing.

But just a little. “He did a lot of shady things, Stella. Bad business that brought in a shitload of money.” She shivered— but no fear in her eyes. “But... why? I thought your family always had money?” “Yes, we did. But my father... he didn’t know until he was in too deep. And when you’re in too deep, the only way out is through.” “Spoken like a man who has experienced it.” She looked at me. “Oh... wait. You?”

Minus Cutter’s face turned to stone. “Whatever the fuck you think you may know about my club—” “Oh, I know a great deal about you and the Burning Saints. Much more than you could possibly imagine. It’s partly because of the knowledge I have of such things, that I don’t care about your three million. I know, for instance, that your book contains a vast array of information regarding the various sources of that money, and that is what I’m interested in. Why go after three million, when there are hundreds of millions out there for the taking?”

For a moment he felt guilty, but he still firmly asked Ashley: "Change to another job. Don't do such a mean job again. It's a shame." His eyes glanced at the piles of money on the table, that small feeling of guilt immediately disappeared without a trace. “These dirty bills. You still keep them to spend, aren’t you ashamed?” Looking at the pile of money, thinking about the origin of the money, Mr. Fletcher was furious, like a raging fire rushing forward. “Whoosh” a sound, his big hand tightly grasped the bills, “Dirty money. This dirty money. If you don’t need it, throw it away.” With those words, Mr. Fletcher angrily tore the bills.