Fanfiction White Collar Novels & Stories

After all, the project was a gift for my new employer, so I couldn't afford any mistakes. I buried myself in work at the office, working nonstop through the nights. My coworkers noticed and started whispering among themselves in the group chat that I was not in. "See, I told you so. Mr. White only makes five thousand dollars a month. He relies on Ms. Johnson for everything. How did he even have the nerve to throw a fit?" "The company is doing so well now. If it weren't for his connection with Ms. Johnson, we wouldn't even need him here."

"Vivian Vance, you are under arrest for grand corruption, bribery, and protecting the international syndicates." I froze. A sharp, breathless laugh escaped my throat. "Are you insane? I just spent twelve months putting those exact syndicate bosses behind bars!" "Which was the perfect way to eliminate your competitors, wasn't it?" Miller threw a heavy manila folder onto the vanity table. It fell open, scattering papers across the wood. "An offshore account under your legal name. Thirty million dollars wired into it over the last six months. And look at this—signed ledger entries that match your handwriting perfectly."

He felt bad and knew he had to make it up to her immediately. He wished his life was different, especially now. True, he did work more than the usual person, but another truth he never told anyone was that he was terrified of putting the woman he loved through the same distress and danger his mother had been put through by his father. The lifestyle seemed to eat the women up and spit them out. He didn't want that for himself or Carolina. He had tried to make his life as normal as possible. It didn't help one bit. Here he was, sitting down with a man who was about to explain to him how to commit a white-collar crime.

The women in the office whispered about his good looks and serious demeanor, but Faith never participated in their gossip. What was the point anyway? She wouldn't get a guy like that in a million years. Her features were ordinary. Anthony DeMarco was way out of her league. He must like those glamorous model-type women—the ones you see in magazines. His personal assistant Diana called for her one day. Diana was usually friendly with Faith, and they occasionally had lunch together. "Hey, what's going on?" Faith wanted to know. "So..this is awkward, but I need a huge favor from you," Diana said.

Time flies, especially when you don’t want it to. Three weeks had gone by, and a lot had happened. Going back to work felt like ease. She resumed her role like nothing had happened, and though there were whispers behind her back, none dared bring it to her face. She wasn’t just their boss; she was Mrs. White, the wife of Jayden White, the owner of the White estate company. Many bestowed their fear of Jayden onto her, and as much as it helped keep unneeded attention away, she wasn’t that kind of person. She didn’t rejoice that others feared her, and she was sure the same could be said about Jayden. They had a preconceived notion about him, and he didn’t look willing to address it, just like h

Alley POV: I knew everyone was a little tense as they took seats around the office. This is our first time laying eyes on him, we've all heard the rumors but from what I can tell he looks rather normal. I mean his eyes aren't even red like the others. "So can someone explain to me why I am here or why I was even requested?" Jeremy stated, there was an edge to his voice and Cassandra had a death grip around his arm. "Jeremy don't be hostile, what do you know of the great white witch?" Ambrosia asked. "I know she died and that her brother killed her but nothing more, why?" Jeremy asked. Ambrosia looked at me and nodded. "I am the great white witch, and Raleighs brother Bosch has created an arm

Sarah wanted to call her fat; if she was still like the old Mirabel, she would hate to be pointed out as fat. “I am actually late for work. Can we meet some time?” Mirabel stretched out her business card and waited a moment for Sarah to bring hers out as well. Sarah heard a notification from her phone. She checked it and smiled. “Sorry, I forgot my business card at home, but I work at Tinder’s Corp. as a chief designer. I will be sure to give you my card when we meet again.” She collected the card and left Mirabel shocked. Sarah had landed a job at Tinder’s Corp, and it felt like a victory over Mirabel, who worked in real estate. However, Sarah worked full-time for Tinder’s Corp.

Ivanov International's public-facing front is too clean for anyone to have enough to blow the whistle. But Whitfield? He ran with my father back in the day. He had the inside track on both realms of business, the corporation as well as the Bratva. The coward couldn't handle a gun to save his life, but he knew how to keep the realms separate from each other just in case. I could almost laugh at the irony. Just in case this exact thing were to happen. Is Anna in on this? The moment the question enters my mind, it crumbles. She wouldn't.

‘Nessa, what do I do?’ I hadn’t made it but a few steps into the forest before I asked her. ‘Let it out Roo. Tell me everything.’ She barely gets the words out before I vomit it all out. ‘How did this happen, Ness? One minute I am so sure of the path I am going to take, refusing to join a pack, and hating Nate. And now I’m calling him Nate and not Nathaniel, and there is another alpha, whom I am also the mate of, who is so different from his brother. And then there is Camilla, and the fact that she is also a white wolf? I mean, what are the chances? Their parents adopt a white wolf, they are mates with a white wolf. Alpha twins, white wolves. I mean this is all so crazy!’

“I didn’t see anything on purpose. You should’ve told me you were naked in here.” “Sure, you didn’t mean to." “I have no reason to lie about that, Margo. Either way, no man is seeing those in the office. There are a bunch of horny men I work with, and the last thing I’ll be able to do is work if I’m imagining all of my coworkers fucking my fiancée.” I slide a white blouse over my head, holding my left hand out between us. “Future fiancée,” I correct, pointing to my bare ring finger. “I have no ring.”