Innocent Or Money Novels & Stories

I did not know if it was my place to tell aunt Courtney but maybe leaving clues or hints will give her the idea to do her own research on him. I don’t know. But the scamming part I am definitely on to him about. He could go ahead and destroy his evidence I don’t care. He had to be stopped. Innocent people’s money was being taken. This just flashed to what Hector told me Mabel did. These people were not different from each other. I was disgusted to be related to them. After a comforting warm bath, I snuggled under my blankets and slept. “Why should I trust you?”

"I didn't want to allow you to weasel out of this one, McKaine, like you have our last three scheduled appointments we have made. It seems that every time we set an appointment to meet, something comes up that requires you to cancel. We need to discuss the terms of..." "I already told you that I have no interest in selling MMK." Micah cuts him short, "Not now, not ever. I made this company myself using..." "Mob money, McKaine. Blood money. Don't try to make it sound noble." The man cackles. It is an eerie sound, neither kind nor warm, but cold, calculated. It is the mocking laugh of a man who sees himself as superior. "At least my company was funded honestly."

Wen handing him a few bank notes. “No, I don’t take cash but you owe me a favor” said the tanned man. “She got lucky to be still breathing at this side of the world next time we won’t be easy on her.” “Trust me there will be no next time” said Mr. Wen. As soon as the tanned man disappeared behind the buildings Mr. Wen slapped Miho as she fall down. “Are you really that stupid Miho to come at this god forbidden place?!” yelled Mr. Wen.

“It’s my money, I can use it however I want. Besides, you’re here, not for this.” This shut her mouth and she looked down immediately. She was not yelling at her, nor was she being smart, but it was just her habit that money was not a thing to waste on useless things. But in the midst of all this, she forgot that the rich do not seem to care about money — small amounts, while a normal person values even a coin.

Vincent presented his handcrafted currency proudly. Penelope was freaking out. Her hands were trembling as she clutched the watercolor-painted Vince Dollar. "Is this your money?" Vincent held his chest high as he replied proudly, "This is the Vince Dollar!" Penelope noticed something was wrong and questioned, "The money I sent you earlier was genuine, but the money you're handing me now appears to be painted with watercolors?" Vincent was taken aback by her revelation. "Oops! You found out?" He found it hard to believe that Penelope wasn't foolish enough to see through his deception.

How much did honesty pay the masses? Could honesty keep his business afloat? Elder Vincenzo was an honest man no doubt, but I was curious as to his reaction as soon as he saw money, money that he actually needed, money that he yearned for. Money that was being offered to him on a platter of gold, for no service at all. In essence, free, blood money that was marred by drugs. But who cared about the origin of the money in such an economy? “Come, let's discuss in my car, elder.”

Ronal said, giving some evidences he had. Green saw the evidences that Ronal showed her, "Sir, this is my bag, but for whatever reason I don't know why the money is in my bag," she said trying to defend herself. She would not accept being accused of something she had never done. "You also know Sir that during my work here I have never cheated anything." "All right, Green, no more self-defense, it's all already very clear. The money is nonliving matter, it can't move unless it's moved," said Ronal didn't accept Green's explanation.

"That's the fine Alpha Scott paid for falsely accusing you. He is yet to do the public apology but I think he gets the point. Don't you think?" I close my mouth with a snap and swallow. "Yes, of course!" My eyes drifted back to the money and I quickly looked away, folding the envelope and keeping it aside on the table as I felt the two men watching me. The last thing I wanted was for them to think that I was affected by money even though I was. "So what are you going to do with your money?" Roman asks. I blinked at the question. "I have no idea. I have never seen that much money before in my life. I might have to think about it."

She quickly added, “We can still earn the money. My company is slowly getting on track now, I’m sure I can make more money in the future!” Jacob huffed angrily, “This is not about the money, it’s about principle! Honesty! She took all our savings and handled it so absent-mindedly. She didn’t even say a word to us when she lost all of it! No, this is too much, I can’t forgive her!”

And money was how prosecutors made juries hate you even if they couldn’t prove you pulled the trigger. I opened the email, already reaching for my laptop. My resolve hardened so fast it felt like muscle memory. All right, Silvia. If you want to make this about finances, we can do that. But you’re going to learn something about me first: I don’t lose narratives. I take them back.