For Blood And Money Novels & Stories

Through the crowd, I saw Richard lurking in the building’s shadow. No surprise there. He never could support the household with his wages before; I’d been paying for everything, giving them a good life. Of course, he wouldn’t let a cash cow like me go. Without his planning, Vanessa wouldn’t have dared do this. Vanessa tugged my sleeve again. “Hurry. Give me some money. I’m not asking for much—just two million. Give me two million, and I promise I won’t trouble you again.” “Really shooting for the stars, huh?” I muttered.

Like saying it out loud is its own kind of relief. "Don't talk," I say. I put my hands on him. The Moonblood knows what to do. I don't have to direct it or manage it or be afraid of it. It moves through me the way it has been waiting to move — not forced, not pushed, simply allowed. It finds the powder's trace in his blood the way light finds the edges of things in a dark room. Not by force. By nature. By the simple fact that where this kind of light goes, the things that hide in darkness cannot stay hidden.

I could smell his cologne expensive, sharp, familiar. "You’re insane," I said, reaching for the door. Before I could touch it, the door slammed shut. Two men stepped from the shadows, blocking the exit. Lorenzo leaned close, his voice deadly soft. "The games are over. You’re coming with me. You’ll live under my roof. Follow my rules. And give me my heir." "I'm not going anywhere," I snapped. "You destroyed my family." "And yet," he said, glancing at my stomach, "you carry my blood."

I never expected to receive compensation. When I looked at the notification message that had just appeared on my phone, I could not help asking: “Where did this money come from?” The system answered immediately. [Compensation funds originate from the assets of the Lawson Group.] [Assets were legally liquidated and transferred under system administration before being transported across worlds.] [Source verified as compliant. Host bears no future liability or repayment obligations.] So it was the Lawson family’s money. I had always assumed nothing from that world could follow me back.

-" Good evening Mr. Gerald, can I talk to you for a moment." -" Sure." -" I would like to work in a friend's club; I need to save some money just in case." -" In case of what?" he asked. -" I don't know, I might need it in the future, I also need to buy some stuff." I lied. -" You can use my debit card for that." -" No, definitely no. I can't take your money." I retorted. -" You won't. You will just borrow money from me until you got paid for the mission you are assigned and then give it back." He explained.

If I can trust Dell, then I can trust Griffin. Everything will be okay. "I got a flash of something. The words are a bit broken. But essentially, a guy was telling me that he killed Richard and that he used his father's money to buy this truck. I don't know how it's connected to killing Richard." Griffin leans back to examine the truck. He walked around it and I followed him, ignoring the spreading pang around the crown of my head. I think I might need to sit down after this. We walked to the back of the truck, and Griffin pulled out a knife.

Nothing getting through. His eyes narrow at me a small glint of silver shining through. I grit my teeth together refusing to budge when he finally stuffs a hand in his back pocket. He pulls out a wallet on a chain and pulls out two hundreds and a fifty dollar bill. He flashes me a stunning white smile his eyes already back to their original forest green color. I already have my folder back open pulling on the B+ paper as he slides the money into the folder pocket and taking the paper from my hand reading it over.

“Over and over—until one survives the process. I was next. And my father... he wouldn’t have stopped it. He couldn’t. If Carson hadn’t stepped in, I’d already be...” She choked, hugging herself as if trying to hold her pieces together. “I’d be vampire cattle by now.” That word—cattle—ripped through me. I moved toward her and wrapped my arms around her. She collapsed into me, trembling, sobbing, unravelling. “That’s where all the money and power comes from, Nat,” she cried against my shoulder. “It’s blood money. Deals made in the dark. I never wanted it, but now I have to pay for it with my life.”

Bean was seen in the video, holding up bags of blood with my name written on them, while trading them with a burly man. "This is the rare Rh-negative blood. Freshly harvested," Dr. Bean said, his voice clearly audible. "Same old price for 50,000 dollars a bag." The entire ward fell silent. I turned around to look at Mom and Ian, who had turned deathly pale. "So, in your eyes, I'm not just an ATM machine. I'm also your money-making cash cow after all. "You said that I was delusional, Mom. So, tell me. Did I invent this black market blood-trafficking operation because of my delusions as well?

Somia’s uncle said. “If I know that all these are blood money, I won’t have been fighting for it. Father achieved all these with blood” Somia’s uncle laughed loudly as Somia said so. “Look at you, did you think it’s all the money that are pure from the root. All those wealthy people, do you think it’s all of them that their money purred from the root” Somia’s uncle said. “Our money is bloody from the root and now we have made it pure, and that is what gave you the audacity to be asking for it”