Gold D Roger Novels & Stories

For some reasons Roger's sigh got deeper. “She left for the Northern Pack,” he said. “I'll head to the bank,” I told him. “I'll need to track the account those criminals used to receive the funds.” He said nothing. “Another thing,” I added, making it look as though I have forgotten to mention something important. “I noticed five hundred thousand gold coins missing from our account. I'll need to inform our inside man in the bank to track the funds.” “No need,” he snapped. “I know of it.”

The fish pond's profits increased very quickly, and my net worth grew drastically. … As we had been spending time together over the past few months, Shannon and I had gotten a lot closer. I no longer addressed her formally as "Ms. Holland", and she did not call me "Mr. Rivers" either. One day, I was working on a finance report in the yard when I heard Shannon's voice from afar. Soon, she walked up to me. "Are you writing a report?" "Yes. I'm almost done. Just a moment." "Alright." Although she was waiting for me, Shannon could not stay still. She helped me clean up the yard and washed all my dirty dishes.

In the end, my grandfather was the one who had led Skymex Group to its current glory in his youth, propelling himself as the richest man of Adonia. That was why everyone in the hall recognized him and knew about his legend. And given everything he did since he arrived, everyone in the hall now understood that I was the real grandson of Miles Langford—and Harold was the gigolo who was being sponsored. That was why they were all looking at him in disgust right then. "What? Harold Langford is really a gigolo! How desperate do those women have to be to get a sugar baby like that?" "Hell, I think Quincy, Ellie, and Jennie are the crazy ones here. Ellie and Jennie actually called their own family

Being there gave Roger the time to answer emails and calls from his parents, not filling anyone in on what he was doing. Roger drove to the strip club, his movements discreet to avoid the half-naked men and women at the club, buying her anything she liked while he drank nothing. The music was loud enough to drown him, but as a man on a mission, he endured the noise and moved to the VIP section. Intoxicated, Rhoda moved to sit on his lap, but he pushed her away. “I’ll pay for a lap dance for you later, but you have to tell me what I need to know.”

Diamonds and gold and a Mac all fetched decent prices, even when sold on the run and in desperation. She glanced over at Jack again, trying to get a feel for the guy. One thing that she’d always been bad at was seeing people for who they really were, and the most stunning example of her stupidity in this area was her ex-husband. She’d been raised in a sheltered little bubble, for the most part, and her street-smarts were exactly zero, and she knew it. Claire had always taken people at their word and at face value… and since coming to Denver and starting this new life, she’d had to start to learn the valuable skill of seeing past the bullshit words and slick exteriors that people trotted out.

He said that and sent me a transfer of $1.88 on his phone. The note with the transfer contained two words: "Gold Digger." I had been with him for seven whole years and had not spent a dime of his money. I even gave him gifts on holidays and anniversaries. He took them like he was entitled to them, but he never got me anything in return. He would mockingly ask if I thought it was a man's duty to buy gifts for his girlfriend.

Or for her to turn out to be the thing I'd been searching for since I was exiled five years ago. A Silver Blood. A real, living, breathing Silver Blood. I adjusted the unconscious girl in my arms as I navigated through the forest. She was lighter than I'd expected, all delicate bones and soft curves. Her skin still held a faint silver shimmer, like moonlight trapped under the surface. Beautiful, Deadly, Perfect. "Boss," Marcus's voice crackled through the radio clipped to my belt. "We've got Silvermoon wolves at the border. Ten of them. They're demanding we return the girl."

blue is really his colour. “I've shared the file with you. Look through it and find your partner.” I watch as he turns to the white board, raises his hand and starts writing something down. The fabric at his wrist slips away, revealing the small gold watch he wears there and more expanse of delicious skin. I really have to get myself together. I open my phone, d******d the file and skim through. Jackson, there it is. Paired with a McShaw. Who's McShaw?

I then picked up the sapphire brooch on the table and fiddled with it between my fingers, looking at him with a half-smile. "Then, you must know who the largest shareholder of Chevy International Mall is, don't you?" Jeff's expression changed slightly, his eyes twinkling in response. Sophia urged impatiently, "What's the point of you trying to drag things out like this? Don't you dare think that saying a bunch of weird things like that will get you off the hook. I'm telling you, nobody can save you now. Nobody!" I ignored Sophia's screams and fixed my gaze on Jeff.

The clerk, a heavyset man in a stained undershirt, looked her up and down and went back to his television. "Room," Celeste rasped. "Sixty a night. Cash." "I don't have cash." She reached up with a trembling hand, unhooked one of the earrings she had worn to bed the night before, a teardrop diamond the size of a thumbnail, and set it on the counter. "This is worth two hundred times that." The clerk finally looked at it. He picked it up, squinted, bit down on it, and then squinted again. "Where'd you get this?"