Novel & Cerita From The Trash Man To The Cash Man

Back in the basement, I held my only possession, a doll that had been mine since childhood, and I swore I would never go back home. Just as I was dozing off, my father called. I shakily answered, only to hear his furious voice on the other end. "Where did you get all that money in your account? You thief, did you steal from the family again? I transferred all the money in your account to your sister! She's not a waste like you!" But the 20,000 dollars in my account was from a part-time job I had done last month. I clenched my fists, feeling a bitter lump in my throat that I couldn't swallow. I had hoped they would save me, but it was all a foolish dream. I opened my mouth, but no words came

he began, the word twisting on his tongue before he finally settled on "Ms. Armstrong." "Mr. Sheppard asked me to give these to you. He said once you sign these papers, you should forget about everything that happened over the past few years. This is your compensation." Michael opened the suitcase. Inside, stacks of cash were neatly bundled, and on the very top lay a document. Jared had transferred the subsidiary company I'd been managing to my name. "Mr. Sheppard said you should go to the subsidiary…" His words trailed off, but I understood. Jared was making me step aside for Rachel. He was afraid that a scheming, calculating woman like me would bully his innocent fiancee.

Kate was still lagging behind, completely oblivious to the gravity of the situation she'd landed herself in. Still in disbelief, she said, "Stop pretending. I don't believe you actually pulled together 100 million dollars in cash this fast. These people must be actors. The trucks are probably empty." I took the handkerchief Billy handed me and wiped the blood from my lip. "Check for yourself, then." Looking at the line of drivers parked outside the mall, I commanded, "Open up the cargo compartments." The drivers immediately pulled open the cargo doors. Stacks of green banknotes filled every truck, neatly piled from floor to ceiling. The sight alone made everyone freeze.

I smiled. I carefully lowered myself into the seat across from them, leaning back against the torn leather. Neither of them spoke, but their eyes darted to the small black bag resting in my lap. I didn’t waste time. Reaching into my coat, I pulled out two thick envelopes and placed them on the table. The man on the left, the taller one with a jagged scar along his jaw, grabbed the first envelope, flipping through the thick stack of cash inside. The shorter one, with tattooed fingers and a permanent scowl, watched me closely.

His assets were gone, and he was buried in debt. As for Susan, the gentle facade had long since vanished. What remained was a woman on the verge of hysteria. "They fight almost every day. Susan yells at Harold for being useless, and the two of them are constantly at each other's throats. The neighbors upstairs and downstairs have filed multiple complaints." My expression remained unchanged. I couldn't help but wonder if Harold's downfall was, at least in part, a form of silent revenge against Susan. Honestly, even if he left with nothing, he should have been able to make a comeback given his skills.

Travis yelled over the roar of the bike, his heart beating wildly as he went speeds he was not comfortable with. Cash laughed. "Must be their new asshole. He split up the street race on Louisville Road last night, lost a lot of money thanks to him. Word has it that he's gonna be replacing Rooster. I'll be there in sixty seconds; I was coming out that way anyway." The two of them hung up, and Travis concentrated on not laying his bike down. They were pushing them hard. These were not race bikes, but Cash had a race car, one that easily won him every street race in this county. At eighteen, he was becoming a local celebrity. As they came upon the intersection that connected Highway 526 to High

the cashier said, trying to maintain a professional tone despite her obvious discomfort. The man pulled out a crumpled wad of cash from his pocket, peeling off bills and slapping them onto the counter. The cashier counted the money quickly, not wanting to prolong the interaction. With a look of barely concealed disgust, she tossed a large paper bag at him. He didn’t acknowledge her attitude, simply took the bag and carefully placed the bottles inside. He grabbed the receipt and stuffed it into his pocket before heading out of the store.

Tristan let out a loud, barking laugh, pointing a finger directly at the card. "A prop!" Tristan scoffed, his voice ringing out loud enough for the entire ballroom to hear. "You actually bought a prop!" He looked around the room, his arrogant smirk returning in full force as he tried to rally the crowd back to his side. "Do you see how pathetic this is? A fake black card! You can buy novelty metal cards like that on the internet for fifty bucks. Did you honestly think you could just drop a heavy piece of metal on the table and we'd actually believe you have five million dollars?"

"The 'Origin.' You’ve certainly made a mess of the 'Restore.' Do you have any idea how much this 'Manifestation Event' is costing our insurance providers?" "You're not real," I said, my voice echoing through the boardroom. "I am as real as the money in your pocket, Kaima," the man said. He pointed the remote at the Red X in the sky. "But don't worry. I’m about to 'Clear the Cache.' We’ll start over. Season 5: *The Post-Apocalyptic Rebirth*. It’s going to be a hit." "No," I said. I looked at the silver pen in my hand. It was filled with the "Trash" of a thousand years.

But the self-preservation instinct that kept me standing whispered that this man was simply another predator…one who wore a charming smile while setting his trap. "What is the catch?" I asked quietly. Zane ’s smile broadened, slow and calculated. "Access to Roman’s private study in the east wing," Zane said, his tone turning businesslike. "He keeps a drive in his desk…offshore financial information. The exact leverage required to break his empire. Bring that drive for me, and I guarantee your safe passage home to your sweet Aiden." I stared at him. "And how do I know you won't take the drive and leave me trapped here?" I demanded softly.