Harry Goldfarb Novels & Stories

A thin digital tablet rested beneath his hands, his dark amber eyes scanning row after row of financial trade data with a cold, terrifying efficiency. "You're three minutes late," Dominic said, his deep, gravelly voice cutting through the hum of the air filtration system. He didn't lift his head, his thumb flicking across the screen to sign off on a multimillion-dollar liquidation order. "Punctuality is a basic requirement under this roof, Vivian."

Right when the siblings were filled with utter disbelief while deciding that they were going to be in Harvey York’s good graces… A huge group of people gathered around Fortune Hall’s gazebo. Cliff Saban handed Harvey a cup of tea with a bright smile. “You’re in luck, Sir York! “With the car, you can do whatever you want in Golden Sands now!” Dariel Jackson showed a faint smile. “I heard that there was a first-in-command who’d visit a geomancy expert every week, broadening his connections in a short amount of time.

The lady giggled, nodding her head as we walk out and she turns to continue with her day of labor. "Oh, this is going to be so much fun!!" Kim cheers and claps her hands as she jumps in joy, making her golden mid-back long hair bounce naturally on her back. I sigh, placing one hand up to cover my face from the sun as I glance around the campus. I stops as I notice the same bike from earlier parked next to a white challenger car, taking a step back and bumping into a tall guy with light brown hair, holding a stack of books as he made his way out of the student book store.

I nodded, tapping his shoulder in a silent gesture of gratitude. “Two nights ago, there was an attack on the eastern border of the palace territory,” I explained, the gravity of the situation settling over us. “They captured no one, but they plundered our reserve meat, our gold, and our silver. If the culprits were simple rogues, thieves, or lone pirates from minor packs, I wouldn’t give it another thought. But my Kingsguard reported that the commander leading them bore a distinct sigil on his chest.” The last traces of Caleb’s amusement vanished. His posture stiffened into an array of pure military wariness.

“Butler Gold…” Clifford turned his head to look at the middle-aged man, feeling a little excited and agitated! Butler Gold, or Hubert Gold, was the head of the Gold family's housekeepers. He was responsible for all matters in the Gold household and had served Jameson Gold for 30 years! Disregarding the fact that he held the title of a butler, he was the most respected person in Jameson’s eyes. His status in the Gold family was solidly above the rest!

But if only they knew… if only they could see and hear exactly what happened and what was truly going on behind all these beautiful lies and masks… Throughout the whole event, Lucas barely stayed beside me for more than a few minutes at a time. He kept leaving my side constantly, walking around, entertaining guests, laughing charmingly, and acting exactly like the perfect gracious host everyone knew him to be. But I knew him better than anyone else… I noticed clearly exactly where his attention and interest truly lied all night long.

"He has been up all night. He found the 1987 records, the protocol Delta bribes, twelve years of charitable foundation fraud. He is writing a full statement for the lawyer." "Good for him," I said. Harry looked at me. "That is not what you actually think." "What I actually think," I said, "is that Fabiola Alejandro has spent thirty-three years being his father's instrument. And now that it is inconvenient, he has decided to have a conscience." "That is not fair." "No," I said. "It is not. But it is what I think." Harry was quiet for a moment. He picked up his coffee. He set it down. He looked at the table between us with the expression he used when he was choosing between the easy thing to s

But the way people moved aside for him, the way even the other alphas stepped back, told me everything I needed to know. This was someone powerful. "Ten gold from the hooded bidder," the trader said, his voice suddenly nervous. Garrett's scarred face went dark. "Twelve." "Twenty." The hooded man didn't hesitate. Gasps ran through the crowd. Twenty gold pieces could buy a house. A farm. A whole herd of cattle. Garrett looked like he wanted to rip someone's throat out. His hand went to the knife at his belt. "Twenty-five." "Fifty."

Then at Lucas. Something moved across his face that I could not read. “Sit down please,” he said. “Both of you.” We sat. He sat. “My name is Joseph Harlan,” he said. “I worked in international finance for forty years. I retired eleven years ago and I have spent every year since trying to finish something three people I loved did not get to finish themselves.” He reached across the table and turned the photograph toward us, the same one Ault had shown us, the three men outside a building I still could not place.