Patreon Blank Check Novels & Stories

I turned on my phone and it started beeping, texts from the group. Asking if I had played the game because I was affected by the trolling. I dropped my phone on the bed and it rang again. Mr Eamon. I felt heart dropped. I know somehow he was calling to tell bad news. I didn't answer quickly, trying to think positive and then answer the call. “Mr Eamon?” “Patton, The Glacier bank dropped their sponsor”

"Why haven't you filled it in yet?" "Aren't you too arrogant? I know exactly how the hotel is doing now, so why are you still so determined to give me a blank check? What if I drain all of your wealth and make you poor again?" Rion asked back with a challenging tone. "You don't need to worry about that. You just need to write down the money you want here and I'll take care of the rest," River said as he pushed the check closer to Rion. Rion stared at the blank check—which made him argue all night with Eric because his brother told him to write 5 million dollars on it when he was reluctant. He then raised his eyes, looked at River deeply, and asked, "Do you want to finish everything at one ti

After dinner we walked and talked, no destination, we just kept walking And for the first time, I felt genuinely free. When he dropped me off later, I hesitated before opening the door “Thank you” i said quietly. “For what?” “For everything” I replied genuinely. That night I slept the most peaceful i had ever slept. Across the city Blake was not sleeping, he stood in his living room looking disorganized. “What do you mean the funds aren’t accessible?” He snapped He paused “Run it again, run everything again.” When the call ended, he slowly turned to his desk, eyes scanning the documents scattered across it, according to the contract, he was supposed to get his profit yesterday but it never c

Pulls out a check. The paper is folded, edges worn like she's been carrying it since she wrote it. Her thumb presses against the crease. She has rehearsed this moment. "Two million dollars." Her voice cracks. "It's what I can reasonably offer without tanking my own liquidity. I can structure payments for the rest over—" "No." "Adrian, I need to pay you back. I need this to be—" "Transactional?" I take the check from her trembling fingers. The paper is warm from being clutched too long.

Blake's POV The fundraising was ongoing. I still haven't seen my baby, and it's making me uncomfortable. Thousands of dollars have been donated already. The fundraiser mentioned a donation of fifty thousand dollars from someone I don't care to know, and the attendees applauded him. My eyes were still roaming around to spot my brother. Then, one of the Patrons of the event was trying to get my attention. He was a distraction. I don't want to be rude, but then. I just nodded politely to what he was saying when I heard another donation of fifty thousand dollars.

"Don't pay me for next week. Send the check to the gala." My brow furrowed. "Are you kidding me? You don't have to do that." "Are you kidding me? Faking donating money to charity? We don't need this kind of karma on our behinds. And he's not above checking if we got seats with our names. And ten thousand is a lot of pants-it gets you credibility that you have ten thousand in liquidity." "Shut up. Fuck. Glad one of us is smart." And it wasn't me. I let out a breath, joy flowing into my system. Bruce Marshall had taken it hook, line, and sinker. "We have to practice some more."

We had thirty days to vacate, unless we could meet the restructured rental agreement with a price that was triple our current rent. This wasn’t possible. I stared at the words until they blurred, the papers shaking in my hands. They couldn’t do this to us. Unless…someone had made them. Then I opened the third envelope. It was black and heavy with no return address, and inside I found a single piece of paper. A check, already signed, the amount line left disturbingly blank. Below it, a note in handwriting I knew better than my own. —Whatever you need, luv. No explanation, no demand. Just the empty space where I could write any number to solve every problem, and erase every debt.

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she said, her voice steady, “but I’m patient.” Before I could respond, she pulled a check from her purse and handed it to me. My heart sank when I saw it—it was blank. “Write any amount,” she said, her tone casual, as though this was a perfectly normal proposition. “Whatever you want. Just agree to be with me.”