Ransom Novels & Stories

Ransom woke up in a wide room, lying in bed beside a woman he didn't know. He panicked and immediately got up, hastily putting on his clothes. He was about to sneak out when the woman woke up, shocked to see him. He quickly handed her some money and rushed out of the room.

It is rough as it always was, but when he touches me this time it is not out of duty, but comfort. “When we go tonight I need you to keep your ears open. A lot of product is missing. I need a name.” “How much is missing?” I ask, my curiosity peaked. The hardness to his eyes returns and he stares. “A lot.” I want to groan and beg him to drop his defenses. I’m dying for human interaction, for human kindness. I am dying to feel alive. “I will help you,” I tell him and he grunts. He knows that I know my choices in life are restricted. “For a price.”

They brainstormed ideas, challenged assumptions, and shared their diverse perspectives, knowing that their collective wisdom would lead to innovative solutions. Amelia suggested establishing a global ransomware incident reporting system, where organizations and individuals could anonymously share their experiences and provide crucial information to aid investigations. "By fostering open and transparent dialogues, we can create a unified platform that enables real-time information sharing, helping us identify emerging ransomware campaigns and respond swiftly."

Her absence gnawed at him like a sickness. His phone vibrated. Nayla’s name glowed on the screen. He answered, voice flat. “What is it?” Her reply cracked with panic. “Brother… did you take your leave this year?” “No. Why?” “Please, help me. The hospital’s under attack. Ransomware. They’re demanding eight hundred million.” Her voice trembled, fear lacing every word. In an instant, Hastan sat upright. “Where are you?” “At the hospital. The systems are down—patients are at risk. Please, I don’t know what to do—”

I had not. “Ransom?” I asked, the word absurd in my mouth. “Too early to say,” Detective Beaumont said. He had been quiet for hours, his sheriff’s brow furrowed in that way that makes a person look older than the daylight allows. “Sometimes it’s a grab for leverage. Sometimes it’s a show. We treat any demand as proof there’s an organized effort behind it.”

This was the first real emotion he'd shown since they arrived at the office that morning, and realized they were neck deep in crisis. A series of attack had hit Romero that morning. Hackers had infiltrated their systems and stolen sensitive data, trade secrets, financial records... Some of these data were placed on the dark web, while the others were still inaccessible, with the hackers demanding for a ransom of up to four hundred and fifty billion. Typical ramsomeware, but it had to come at this particular time. Some investors and customers had already gotten wind of what was happening in Romero, and how sensitive information are everywhere in the darkweb. Th

Trix refused to roll her eyes at the obvious displeasure his voice held. Rexus was Sapphire born and despised Crimsons. More importantly he was a cold blooded killer, who took pride in his kill. The Crimson Princess and a few Crimson Knights would surely boost his fame and the stench of fear that would go well with his name. He gently took the princess’s soft hand in his rugged palms and kissed it. Her personal guards tensed, their leather coated hands on the hilt of their swords. Trix watch the exchange with curiosity, in a strange way wishing that they would start a fight. Her wish came through when Rexus slipped a ring from the princess’s hand and the sound of metal scraping against metal

To: Honey❤️ Please don't leave me..ILOVEYOU.

If there was someone knowledgeable enough of them, it would only be Petra. “During the early years after the first captivity, there were also rumors,” Petra continued, “about the blood drinker’s weakness.” I bit the insides of my cheek as I anticipated the rest of the words that Petra would say. “It was yielded by a witch under twelve full moons, drenched in the blooms of vain, and bathed in the blood of the Great White.”

I muttered. On the screen, Dianna nodded slowly, like we were attending a very profitable funeral. “I know.” “That’s not a retainer.” “Technically—” “That’s ransom money.” “Technically, it’s a retainer.” “Dianna, with that number, I could buy a mansion in Marin and still have money left for my kid’s therapy after they find out their mother almost stabbed her own planner with a stylus.” “Please don’t stab me.” “I haven’t decided yet.”