Greed Island Novels & Stories

My second call is to the man who manages my more… discreet properties. “Andreas. I need the island. The one in the Grenadines. Have it staffed and ready for my arrival by this evening. Skeleton crew only. A chef, one housekeeper. Security will be my own. I want total privacy. No incoming communications unless the world is coming to an end. Understood?” “Of course, Mr. Grimaldi. The island will be prepared.”

Finally, it was a time to relax, but Celine felt everything but relaxation. Celine chose Ponza Island, a small island in Italy. She hoped for some quiet time for reflection since she read reviews somewhere that this small island is perfect for people who want some solitude and to enjoy nature. They were not wrong. Beautiful beach, crystal clear seawater, cute stores here and there. But there was nowhere she could indulge in her favorite hobby—shopping. Worse yet, most stores didn’t accept credit cards. Cash Only. Oh, two words that shouldn’t belong together.

I trailed off, briefly wondering if the check would still be safe if I’d left it in my bra instead of moving it to my purse when I boarded the final flight that was bound for New York City. “I’m intimately involved with “The Island,” Anya. I’m one of the main investors, and you wouldn’t believe what a chuckle I got seeing your name on the roster of competitors for the weekend.” His beady eyes focused on me, and he licked his lips in a hungry fashion. “I quite enjoyed your show, though was aggravated to have a lot of the footage missing when the producer forwarded it to me yesterday. I didn’t get to see your deflowering, for example. Tell me what the hunter did to you, and in great detail.” I

“Ask them to bring the food here. I’m starving.” “What?” The man glanced at him incredulously before taking a deep breath. “Fine.” He walked to the counter. He picked up a brochure from the table. It was about the history of the inn. There was a photo of the front facade of the establishment on the cover. “Food will be out soon.” The man was back, this time sliding into the seat opposite him. “Mn.” He flipped the page. Foxgrove is a small island about 6 hours’ drive from the capital. Ten years ago, it became a popular tourist spot when its pristine white sand beaches were featured on national TV. It didn’t take long before entrepreneurs and investors flocked the island to build posh resorts.

After he ended his call, Daisie said, “Go work.” Nollace hugged her and kissed the corner of her eyes. “I’ll see you tonight.” Edison parked the car in Tenet’s garage and turned around when Nollace got in. “Sir, we’ve found Donald.” Nollace loosened his tie and squinted. “Where is he?” “East Islands.” Nollace was quiet for a long while. “He really knows where to hide.” Edison replied, “Definitely. The East Islands are one of the standalone islands in the eastern part of the continent of Orasia, and they belong to the underground gangs of Easteren Ora.”

Not nightmares of Michael—but dreams as Michael. He'd wake up with his hands around imaginary throats, his voice rasping orders in a cadence that wasn't his own. Commands issued with the casual cruelty of a man who had never seen other human beings as anything more than variables in an equation. "Liquidate the pension fund. Those teachers won't need retirement if they're not breathing." The words would spill from his lips before he fully understood what he was saying. The island stronghold—a repurposed oil platform in international waters that Maria had converted into their base of operations—offered the isolation Griffin needed to wrestle with what was happening to him. But isolation also m

Ivory wondered, looking at the small mass of land that stood a couple of meters away from them. It wasn't really an island, it was more like, a piece of soil, looking as deserted as the Sahara desert, safe for the fact that there were lush trees everywhere, and the thought that it was going to be their safe haven was quite disturbing, but not more than the fact that they had clearly drifted, perhaps away from civilization. Ivory was sure about it. They weren't in the city anymore. "Come," Gadreel said and began pulling her, heading towards the island.

“Ghulik understands, Master. But Ghulik is already hungry, Master.” Czarina’s indigo eyes lit up. “Come on, Ghulik. I’m going to feed you your favorite.” The goblin snorted. “If that is another rat, Ghulik will be angry with Young Mistress.” Their daughter only laughed harder, and Araheen smiled. They locked up the studio and walked toward the harbor, where they boarded the boat Gildeon had bought years earlier. They used it to reach a private island they had also purchased—a place they could retreat to whenever they wanted somewhere secluded, far from human eyes that might witness strange things.

Alaric stood at the deck of his yacht, the salty breeze brushing against his face. Before him lay the shimmering waters surrounding the mysterious island he’d been chasing for months. It was so close, yet impenetrable. The island was no ordinary refuge. It was the Guild of Shadows’ headquarters, a fortress bristling with security measures both visible and hidden.

Now, as they approached the mystical island, she felt a surge of determination to reclaim her true nature. The private jet touched down smoothly on the runway, and as the engines whirred to a halt, Isla couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of Nysoria. The island was a sight to behold, with its lush green landscapes, pristine beaches, and a bustling city that seemed to sparkle in the evening light. As they stepped out of the plane, the crisp sea breeze welcomed them, carrying the scent of salt and adventure.