Money Heist Television Show Novels & Stories

“I asked Zach and he told me he wasn't the one who gave out the loans. You guys are the only ones capable of giving such commands. How did the money disappear-” A commotion came from the background Natalie was speaking, interrupting her. She cursed through the phone and said, “I'm sorry, Heidi. Let me handle something, I'll get back to you soon.” After hanging up, Heidi's lips parted and she felt speechless, her racing heart refusing to calm down. “Ms. Olsen…” Isla called her attention. “Is the Group in trouble?” “Don't know… I guess so,” Heidi murmured distractedly, and she logged into Phoenix City's news channel through her phone.

“I want to see if he breaks. Or if he runs.” Salvatore’s grin was slow and sharp. “You’re baiting him.” “I’m exposing him.” Ghost’s screen pinged again a sharp, urgent tone. He froze. “Matteo…” His voice dropped. “There’s more.” Another window opened encrypted messages, timestamps, financial transfers. Cedric leaned in. “What is that?” Finn’s fingers flew across the keys. “Money. A lot of it. Someone’s been bankrolling Hector for months.” Ghost zoomed in on the sender.

"What do you mean, empty?" ​"Zero," Luis said, turning the screen to show him. "Insufficient funds. The transfer from Zurich_Holdings was rejected." ​Hector stared at the screen. The vein in his neck bulged. ​He looked back at me. The shiv was still in his hand, but the intent had changed. It wasn't a contract killing anymore. Now, it was confusion. ​"Where's the money?" Hector growled, stepping closer. ​"Gone," I said. "I dissolved it. My father is broke, Hector. He can't pay you. He can't pay your lawyers. He can't pay your commissary."

Has someone spiked my drink? “Tell me your men have a way to track down whoever stole the money,” I told Finn when his van swerved into the garage of the hideout. “Seven hundred fucking grand cannot be gone down the drain, Barlow.” His face was grave as he nodded. “I’ll find the thief. And it better not have been you Harrison,” He warned and I scoffed before getting out of his van. I trudged to my vehicle, ready to get things over with when my phone shrieked again. It was my damned secretary.

Eventually, I lost count of how many times I threw up. Maverick's eyes were bloodshot when he hugged me tightly and swore that he would treat me right for the rest of my life. He thought that Rosalia was the heiress of the richest family in the country. He had no idea that when I left for a "business trip" some time ago, I had actually gone to reunite with my family. I was the real heiress, not Rosalia! I grabbed my marriage certificate from my bag and brandished it. "Maverick, no matter how stubbornly you deny the truth, you can't deny that I'm your lawfully wedded wife! Not only did you use our money to pay for your mistress' expenses, but you also had an illegitimate child with her.

The lie felt thick and clumsy on my tongue. “Plenty of time,” he waved a dismissive hand. “This is time-sensitive. And since you’ve suddenly proven yourself to be a billionaire-whisperer…” He grinned. My stomach dropped. This was not going to be good. “What is it?” “I want you to interview Ilay von Oberhaus.”

He looked at her with murderous eyes and she worried for herself. A man came rushing to where he was and she heaved a sigh of relief as he served as a distraction for her to get away. " Sir!! Have you seen the news?" The young man asked worriedly. "What news?" He replied surprisingly. "I've been trying to call you since sir but your line has been unreachable. We need to go sir. You need to run away sir, you're currently being looked for as the chief mastermind for a money heist" " I do not understand what you're talking about" he muttered.

“Forgetting he has a family and all that. A will you say? But my father has nothing, he’s like, a real beggar. You can keep his dirty clothes if you want to.” “It’s not…” the guy snaps, but stops himself abruptly and when he speaks again, his hispanic accent is really peaking through his words. Man, he’s pissed the scam isn’t scamming, huh? “It’s about his estate and his businesses. He’s given them all to you through his will.” “Oh… well, but what to do? I don’t want those things,” I say in mock concern. “What do you mean you don’t want it?” He hisses, really annoyed now. “Is… do you think this is some kind of a joke, señorita?” Mr. Alejandro Motener chastises me and I can’t, for the life of

I added carefully, “not a fortune.” “No,” he said faintly, almost smiling. “Not a fortune. Compared to my wealth? Not a fortune. Compared to what it represented? Yes.” I let out a quiet breath, letting his words sink in. So it wasn’t completely about the money. It never was. “So this wasn’t theft,” I said, my voice quieter now, “this was a theater.” “Exactly,” he confirmed, turning the phone toward me. One line. One single line. ‘Relics_Bleed_Too.txt’