Fanfiction White Collar Novels & Stories

My attempt to escape was useless now because I was sure that they would have shot me before I could get away. I am stupid because I had a chance to escape earlier but I was too overwhelmed by my feelings. I want to scream in frustration. They immediately came to me. One of the things I noticed is that they smell nice like their boss. They are not the typical characters in an action movie who are fat and smelly. They are tall and I'm sure they are of a different race just like their boss. This is also based on the me in tuxedos who kidnapped me. "Come with us. Don't try to run away,"

My ex-husband's life unfolded in damning detail: The male intern he'd been fucking in conference rooms. The offshore accounts Jane knew nothing about. The tax fraud even his fancy lawyers couldn't explain away. Rolin swirled his drink. "Pathetic, isn't it?" Pathetic didn't cover it. This was a guided tour through a man's moral bankruptcy. Then I turned the page. The world stopped. My vision tunneled to three words: "Termination of Eleanor Whitmore." Nana. The paper crinkled in my grip. A sound tore from my throat—half sob, half snarl.

the personal assistant explained. "Oh that!"r white suddenly remarked as if he had been in another realm, "We would just have to find a good replacement for her," Mr White concluded as he watched the man mid his head in n affirmation. "Yes boss!" He asserted and immediately turned to take his leave, "I think.there is something.bigger going on!" Mr white declared as he thought about the news he had just seen. He knew Isabella was married to Vincent which meant Jessica being pregnant with his child only indicate that she was Isabella's rival.

Carrying her files every single day in search of a white collar job, with a very nice office, a good computer, an air conditioner, good food for workers for lunch and a fairly weekly stipends from the manager or CEO as giveaways. She drooled in her imagination as she fantasied herself in a well furnished office, enjoying her job as a new recruit and running little errands for her boss or bosses who doesn't give her trouble. She could see herself dressed corporately, on a nice heels and bouncing hair, smiling at her colleagues and showing off her attractive dimples as she walks into her office, ready to start off the day's work. That would be a dream come true if any of that eventually happen

So they are the ones who demand my attention way after working hours. People with money have absolutely no respect for anyone. I figured that it might be someone with money and I was right. " Dr White what an honor to finally meet you " the woman says as she steps closer to where I am standing. I try to offer her a small smile " The pleasure is mine however it's way past my working hours please my assistant will help you make an appointment Good day " I walk off before they can say another word.

“He loses it.” Before Annabelle could process it further, the conversation drifted—swiftly turning toward the one man she wished they’d stop talking about. “I heard Richard Barton’s connected to the mafia,” whispered one of the interns, her tone gleefully conspiratorial. Annabelle’s brows shot up. Oh, for heaven’s sake. Another nurse gasped softly. “No way! He’s the CEO of Barton Global, not some gangster.” “He’s not that kind of mafia,” said another, leaning in. “He’s what they call the white coat mafia.”

The woman pressed further. Alexandra snapped her gaze up to meet the woman's sharp eyes. How was she able to guess the exact answer? The woman scrunched up her face. “I'm guessing that's the answer. Of course, how could that good for nothing bitch know anything about designs?” Alexandra raised my brow slowly. “Do you know her?” The woman leaned back in her chair, her voice edged with something she couldn't pinpoint. “I was working at the White's corporation before, her carelessness or should I say my stupidity cost me my job.”

“We move together against Havisham. The family factions will follow the winner. The children stay safe under our control. This is the only way to avoid more blood.” The warehouse lights flickered above us. I felt the weight of the decision. “Tell me about the woman in white,” I said. “Sarah mentioned her in the journals. Was she part of the missing hours? Did she see what really happened to my sister?” Julian looked away for a moment. “The woman in white worked as a messenger,” he answered. “She brought warnings to Sarah about the internal betrayal. Her identity stays hidden for now. That information is in the file I took. We use it when the time is right.”

Next to it is a blurred, older picture of Daniel looking haggard outside his shop, paired with a sleek headshot of Damien from a financial summit last year. The article does not mention the municipal tax fraud. It does not mention Victor’s padded ledgers, Daniel’s forged signatures, or the shell accounts. Instead, it weaves a carefully crafted story about a struggling small-business owner whose wife abandoned him after catching the eye of a ruthless billionaire. It paints me as a calculating opportunist who manipulated corporate secrets to secure a luxurious divorce and a penthouse key. I stand very still, reading the paragraphs line by line. The words are slick, deliberately nasty, and desi

“It’s not trading. It’s survival. I lied about some debts. Bigger than I said. Creditors breathing down my neck. And yeah, there were a couple rumors about me and that intern last year. Nothing happened… much. But the company’s everything. Power. Control. Without it we’re nothing.” Elena brushed her teeth hard, spitting out toothpaste. The mint burned her mouth. “Nothing? So my dignity is worth less than your stupid company? You want Victor’s cock pumping cum into me so you can keep playing boss man.” Damian grabbed her arm, not rough but firm. His skin felt hot against hers. “I value success more right now because it keeps us alive. Hidden debts from bad calls I made. Cheating rumors that a