Interatial Novels & Stories

The man standing in front of me didn't look like someone I've met before, from his outfit you could tell he was wealthy, nice watch, nice shoes, clean shaven. I repeated my question again..."who are you?" "Excuse my manners, my name is Coal," he brought his hand towards me for a hand shake, Coal? I go through my brain to think of anywhere I've heard that name before, he still had his hand stretch before me, I come out of my thought taking his hand as I introduced myself..."Odessa," I said as I gave him a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes, he was a stranger standing in front of my door, or rather someone standing in front of my door who I didn't want to accept I was seeing.

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" The person after my life? And how certain are we that its Vietnam? " " Information from an Intel who looked into the companies says the payment was made late March, by a Visa card. The same Visa card had made online payments in Accra, Buenos Aires, Carolina. Baghdad, Czech, Djibouti. Calabar, Dallas and Eastbourne. Do you notice anything? " I shook my head in a negative response, all I got from that was Soldo's been traveling round the world. " Hunter you need to relax and analyze this, so please take a seat first"

"Are you sure the shipment was requested by someone from western part?" "Yes. They tried to deliver that in the middle of the night when our men got it. They were not disclosing the names. They were told to drop the shipment near the landmark from where another group was supposed to pick up." "Fine. What about the money? How are they being paid? Any backtrace?" "No. It was paid via an international account. The account belongs to Indonesia." "That means there is a high chance they are engaging Indonesian Mafia this time. Someone from here is getting stronger to hit on the right place. Be careful and try to gather as much information as you can. I want the fucker anyhow."

Bit Some years ago, my sister was always pushed to get married by all her relatives. The first sentence they asked her “When will you get married? You’re not too young not to care for this problem.” She never said it again, anytime she smiled. For recent years, no one in the family and relatives talked about her marriage. After all, they thought he needed a baby to rely on in her old age. This ideology has been popular abroad for hundreds of years, but my mother is a rural woman who is bound by the old, outdated ideas left by her ancestors.

"Sure it’s not. He came in swinging promises and empty credit chips. Thought he could play big. Left limping." “I’m not here to play.” She unzipped the satchel, just enough for the Adrium inside to shine. Not raw. Not cracked. Refined. Ready. "I know what this is worth. And I know what you offer." The woman’s expression shifted, not surprise, but interest. “You want passage.” “I want in.” "And what? Join lover-boy behind the walls? You think the Citadel lets in poets with bleeding hearts?" Abigail stepped forward. "I think they let in what the Fangs smuggle. And I’m paying for that service. Right now."