Gold Digger Artinya Novels & Stories

, she whispered awed. “Well yeah”, Isuzu shrugged, “I told you I ran away from home every year after I turned twelve and worked during the vacation slots of winter and summer, and Gylden—”, she hummed as she continued digging. “—are easier to earn and hide than money paid through the banks, plus you know people on the run prefer coins rather than carrying traceable, like credit and debit cards and cash. I mean those suckers are easily identified what with the numbers printed on the side and each currency has it’s on market and economic value in a different country. But gold coins, who in their right mind is going to print id-codes on gold, can you even imagine how tedious that is, and gold i

old man Sander said, as he waved me off dismissively. “Why are you mad that you give you a price? Isn't that what you wanted? And that envelope is it for her?” He asked, and Jared confirmed it. “Yes, but she seems too greedy, I mean how dare her name a price, she's a gold digger, uncle.” Gold digger? Has the boy lost his mind? “She doesn't have to dig for any gold, but I will give her all that,” Lyon rasped, squeezing my hand gently, and I felt butterflies filling my stomach.

Every step brought me nearer to the source of the sound of men working… the rumbling of machines, the clinking of metal on stone. As I found a spot I felt was close enough to see without still being sighed easily from where they were, I crouched low behind a thick bush, peering through the leaves. The men were hard at work, their backs bent with the effort as they dug into the earth, pulling up handfuls of something that glittered in the sunlight. My breath caught in my throat as I realized what it was… gold. They were digging for gold. I had to blink several times, not trusting my eyes. But there was no mistaking it. Piles of dirt had were drilled through, revealing small pieces of the prec

I just told him. He drew a mischievous smile on the tip of his lip and combed his hair with his own hand. "Well, it's better to be clear than to fall victim to that gold digger." His words were softly but strong. My forehead furrowed and i seemed even more curious when he said that. "Gold digger? what do you mean by that?" I asked and for a moment he drank a glass of softdrinks. "That's what they call her. But she's better known as a one call girl." He responded, but i just shook my head and still wondered at him.

"You gold digger.“ Gold digger? It's just a single word, but it felt like his claws reached into my heart and ripped it apart. Rage coursed through me, and my hands shot out and connected to his face in a sharp and resounding slap. 'Pa!'

I tried to explain myself. He tsked. “If you want some—” “I’m not just going to ask you when I want something. That’s called being a gold digger,” I said, looking at him with faint amusement. He rolled his eyes at me. “I remember when that word first came out. Believe me when I tell you that you’re using it in the wrong context. But it’s not gold digging when your mate, me, is here to give you anything you ask for,” he said.

“Then you should know who the majority shareholder of Grand Arcadia Mall is.” His expression shifted. Subtly, but unmistakably. Victoria snapped, impatient. “Stop stalling. Saying random things won’t save you.” I ignored her. “This brooch,” I continued, “is an imitation of Cartier’s limited-edition ‘Heart of the Ocean’ from last fall. Only three were made worldwide. Each one has its own anti-counterfeit marker, and a unique microchip code.” A bead of sweat slid down Mr. Collins’s temple. “As the manager of the most exclusive mall in Silverbrook, I’m sure you’re far more familiar with luxury authentication than I am.”

I shouldn't have given up on the idea of breaking up with Tessa when I found out that she was one of the heiresses in Jetland's upper class, just because she had persuaded me. Whenever Tessa felt that I was greedy for her money, she would keep talking about equality in love and that we should not let money control us. I never should have believed her. The only thing I had in mind back then was during the coldest time in winter, she had let me warm my hands on her stomach. When I had a headache, she would massage my head gently with her warm hands. We had once been in love, and we had once been sweet together. However, we should not have let money taint our love.

“Would you look at this? We’ve struck gold.” Lydia crept closer, her eyes flitting from the sleeping woman back to me. “What do you mean? She’s just… sick.” “She’s not just sick,” I said through my teeth, my voice low but my excitement seeping through. “She’s the beginning of it all. She’s the golden fucking ticket. This…” I gestured wildly at our surroundings; this was only possible because she existed in it. Dennis wasn’t just a gold digger, he was a goddamn martyr. A loving son, paying for his impoverished mother to get treatment by draining his husband for everything he had.

He said boldly, staring straight in my face, never blinking for once as he said it, looking directly into my eyes. "Fucking gold-diggers doing anything for the attention." He finalized before shaking his head. Did he just call me, an A-list Model, a GOLD DIGGER?! I opened my mouth to abuse him, asking how I was a Gold Digger when he was a mere reporter, not even a journalist. What Gold did he have for me to dig? Asshole.