Michael Richards Audiobook Novels & Stories

"Hurry up or I won't pay you." The whole ride was just Aaron talking about a lot of things. About Michael's company and whatever to fix there, about the plantation and what he thinks would look best in this place and on that place. "Since when did you become a chatterbox?" Michael questioned when we got to the parking lot where our ride is. "Since you started stressing me out." "I never met a man who talks too much in my whole life," Richie whispered to me, causing me to let out a silent chuckle. "Don't tell Aaron, he's going to nag me like Laura does."

He kept a smile on Michael, yet he was boiling with anger at the fact that the boy knew the adult business. 'Liar' Michael yelped. His voice sounded like a bell in the spacious living room and echoed against the walls and everything that could absorb his voice. To Richard's surprise, Michael leaped out of the chair that he was sitting on, and headed with gusto towards the bookshelf that stood in a corner of the living room. There, he fished out for a couple of magazines, flipping through them until he found what he seemed to have been looking for.

Breathing heavily, he struggled to keep his composure. "Mike!" A sadistic glint sparkled in Michael's eyes as he continued to provoke Richard. "Your precious girl, huh? You know, she was dry at first, but once I entered and felt how good she tasted, I couldn't resist. It was an ecstasy to indulge in your delicacy, Richard." Richard's temper flared, his voice rising with each word. "You monster! How dare you rape her! How dare you speak about her like that!" Michael's laughter echoed through the room, intensifying Richard's anger even more.

Chapter 35 Richard's Pov I swiped my phone, the screen flashing with the live video that had just started. My heart slammed against my chest as I watched a man I didn’t recognize. He had an unsettling smirk on his face, his eyes sharp and calculating. “I used to know Mr. Richard back in the days,” he began, his voice laced with disdain. “A few weeks ago, he came to me with a business proposition. A deal worth billions. He asked me to help transport a consignment across borders, promising a hefty payout.”

It was a single, high-priority audio file that had just been decrypted from Michael’s private vault. It was dated twenty-five years ago. The day my parents “died.” I hesitated, the old fear clawing at my throat for a split second. But I remembered the vow. No more secrets. I pressed play. A man’s voice—Michael’s, younger and more arrogant—filled the hallway. “It’s done. The Vermon car is in the ravine. But we have a problem. There were two children in the back, not one. And the mother… she’s still breathing.”

He asked Michael to step down from his position and took all of his associates from him, leaving him with completely nothing but like he said to him, his survival depends on him and that could only mean that Michael can choose to end his life or start from scratch again. Richard sits on the chair in his room holding a glass of wine in his hand and a brown cigar in the other. He swallows hard and heaves a long sigh before resting his head against the chair. Then he stands up and walks over to the window. He stares through the transparent glass and heaves a sigh. All his life, the only thing he loves and is good at managing is the mafia business. Family?Love? He doesn't care about those. If he

AUDREY Richard's breath sagged in his throat as he squinted his brows. He slid his hands gently into his pockets as he straightened up. “What?” He whispered, lips curving to his left side as he chortled, “Are you serious?” “I'm very serious,” I replied sharply, taking a step closer to him. “Look, Miss Audrey,” Richard sighed, leaning back again, “I know you must be going through a lot, and I get that, but this is a lot to ask from a stranger.”

Olivia's forensic software finished restoring another damaged file from the encrypted partition. She almost ignored the notification. Almost. The file contained no documents. No videos. Only an audio recording. She pressed play. Static filled the room. Then... A man's voice. Old. Calm. Deliberate. "If you're hearing this... then Richard finally knows about Michael." Olivia froze. The voice continued. "Richard... if you're listening... I'm sorry. I should have told you the truth twenty years ago. But if you're hearing this now... it means I've run out of time."

Alistair sat at the head of the table, his eyes flaming with anger, his complexion still pale from the wound. Theodore stood next to him, holding his notes close and clenching his jaw. Belle leaned forward a little, fingers steepled, and watched the door. It broke open. Michael Richards walked in like a conqueror, wearing a deep blue suit that fit him perfectly and brushing his silver hair back. A torrent of men and women followed him—proxies, angry investors, and faces Theodore hardly recognised but knew well enough by their hungry smirks.

“The air conditioning upstairs is acting up today.” Michael smirked darkly behind my back, enjoying my struggle. He shifted his hand and pushed one thick finger straight inside my tight, wet entrance, pumping it slowly in and out of my body. I gripped the sides of my phone tightly, my knuckles turning white as I tried to keep my facial expression completely neutral for the camera. Richard kept talking on the screen, completely unaware of what was happening. “Well, we will be back home in about five weeks. Michael has been sending me regular updates. He said you two have been getting along really well.”