Pomerantz Novels & Stories

I gestured to my lawyer who produced a small camera for this farce of a deal. "Why?" His face furrowed, his eyes narrowing. "Because that's how I want it." Once bitten, twice shy. I will not fall into the same trap he'd set for my father. One hour later, I shut the door behind me as my phone pinged with an incoming message. It was my P.A. He'd sent the phone number of Cheryl Corey, Vanessa's boss, as I requested. "Hello?" The voice was smooth and raspy. "Good day miss Corey, it's Callum Gray. I have something that I need you to do for me."

Clinton I was in my office, reading through files of complaints that my people were making. The school needed money for rebuilding and repairing broken water pipes. I sent them the total amount required and was now going through my company affairs before I got a mind link from my Beta. “Alpha, there's a man looking for you. He said to tell you that it's urgent and important.” “What pack is he from, and can you give me a description of him?” I asked as I continued typing on my computer.

Caitlin grabbed a chair and sat down adjacent to me, her bare thighs squashing down onto the seat as she folded her ankles and leaned back. She gestured with her hand to let me continue, almost impatiently and I cocked an eyebrow at her with a small smile. This woman… "If," I emphasised. "You're willing. Your target would be Lucas Trevino, software engineer and owner of Godfather nightclub." I paused for her reaction and she simply just nodded her head waiting for me to continue.

“Elias Gray. Thank you for accepting me in your firm. Ms. Vale told me that you needed a lawyer as a second advisor to your lawyer.” “Valerie is fine,” I said. My palm was steady when he shook it; the temperature of his hand matched the room, controlled. “It is Rosalyn who thinks we need reinforcement. I trust her judgment.” “And I trust yours,” he replied, taking the seat I indicated. “I’ll work alongside Ms. Lewis to review investor contracts and filings, particularly with Lorenzo D’Amaris as I was informed that he is one of your potential investors..” My mouth flattened around that name. “You know him?”

Too painful. Daisy was about to say: "It's actually not as miserable as people think." But a voice interrupted. “How long are you off this time?” asked Abel. The man has a rather sad past. He used to eat government meals, live in public housing, and remove some calendars for the manslaughter of his father. He is a handsome man but for some reasons he likes to have a shaggy beard, cover a third of his face. Currently he is an employee at the Iric’s vegan restaurant. Whoever asks him what his job is. He always says “I am a driver.” In fact, he looks like a carpenter. Touch where to do it. From cooking rice, chopping firewood, picking vegetables... “Now I don’t have a future plan. I just want t

I LOVED this guy. Isaac Zeltman looked like a two-bit accountant from the red light district with his wrinkled gray suit and dull shoes. One of the guys who spent their nights trying to balance the accounts of untraceable incomes of cash businesses. After all, those girls wouldn't have W2's or 401k plans. At any rate, he was not a two-bit accountant. He was, in fact, one of the best PBA attorneys in the department. "Goddamn Kelly," he said. "What the hell did you do to get called to the Pen in your condition?" I just shook my head and grimaced from the pain.

“He was at one of my clubs, drunk might I add, before saw me. He claimed that ‘Ezra D’Caprio’, in his eyes, ME, ruined everything for him alongside his wife. He started public shooting, and almost killed three girls at the club. Thankfully, the cops weren’t around the scene when we got out, and people were yet to arrive in full numbers. But I had to close down for a while. Now, I came here because if men are going to end up coming to Moscow to ruin my business, then I am going to have to deal with you.” “You’re part of the mafia, aren’t you?” “Isolated or not, it runs in our blood. I am Pakhan, or in other words, Boss bossov.” Boss of Bosses. “Or what you call a Capo dei Capi.” “Separated or

Vicker gently sat down and gave out a silent but frustrated sigh. The judge compared the evidence given to him, then wrote down some things. Raising his head to look at the court full of people, he nodded. "These pieces of evidence are very striking. I will need more time to appropriately decide on this case. So the court is postponed till next week Monday." He slammed his mace on the plain piece of wood and stood up.

The Crown reacts first—too fast, too desperate. Authority slams outward. The land convulses, crushing one hound beneath erupting stone—but the backlash hits me like a hammer. I drop to my knees, coughing blood as the fracture inside me widens. The Reverent’s presence flickers faintly, frustrated, unable to fully anchor through whatever interference blankets the clearing. Do not dominate, it warns weakly. “I didn’t—mean to!” I gasp. The Prime moves instantly, stepping over me, his massive form interposing itself between me and the fight. His roar splits the night, ancient and absolute.

"My friend, I haven’t forgotten. You and your father saved me from a trial that would have destroyed my life and my family. Of course, I’ll help you! Tell me, what do you need?" "It’s about Marcus Bartz and Peter Palmer." "Oh, my friend! That Bartz guy is protected, and by some very powerful people. You know they let him walk free thanks to that scumbag Anthony Moriarty." "Who’s that?" "The new judge. Everyone says he’s as ruthless as your father was, but I think it’s just a front. That guy has to have skeletons in his closet, but no one’s been able to prove it. He’s keeping us all on edge, so it’s pointless to go after Bartz right now. But that Palmer guy? That’s another story. Wait… isn’t