Ransom Novels & Stories

I inquired impatiently. “Sorry mam, he is a business tycoon and we are strictly told not to reveal the information to strangers other than his business associates” the person replied. “Come on, he is not even a celebrity.. Please” I requested, he glanced at me as my chests were a bit exposed. I glared at him and said “moron!” “Sorry mam” he apologized and I moved towards my room. “I will definitely get me, how long will he escape from me?” I thought.

But unlike Ash’s there is no love or compassion or kindness, just pure want and that could end badly for me. “I’m sure you would like that very much, but there is a price to your adventure.” I am hit by a wave of uncertainty by the words ‘there is a price.’ What could I possibly give him that he could possibly want? As I look into his eyes, my gut sinks as I figure it out; he wants my undying love and my willingness to remain here with him. What can I do? I need to have a look around and find a way to escape this psychopathic maniac. That when I realise, I’m going to have to agree to his price, somehow fake it and draw him in and gain his trust and then some how I am going to have to escape

She finished with a smile. "That's amazing. Bring that over," Dante gestured to her to come to him as he opened his laptop. Rose handed the drive to him and he connected the hard drive to his computer, opening the data. But everything was encrypted. He frowned at this. "What is this?" He asked pretty much to himself, but Rose heard it. She peeked in to see the messages were encrypted.

he says, voice firm. We both say it in unison. “No.” Michael raises a brow, clearly unconvinced, but he doesn’t push it. Instead, he leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. “Good. I needed to know that. Because what we are dealing with right now isn’t just complicated it’s dangerous.” My stomach drops. Dangerous. That word alone makes my chest tighten further. I can feel every fiber of me alert, every nerve ending on edge. Michael takes a deep breath. “We received a ransom call. Naomi has been taken. They are demanding 500,000 for her release.”

Good girl, I like that, straight to the point, well all I need from you is a little ransom to let your boyfriend loose. Just stay by the line, I would call again. He said just before he hung up. Shit, this dude was smart, I lost the signal mum. I called out. My attention was turned back to the line as the same person was calling again. Now, like I was saying, all I need from you right now is a little ransom to let your little toy go. Listen closely, all you need to do is, go to the bank and cash out some money, and will be telling you the amount later.

Planned. By 7 a.m. the first ransom demand came through an untraceable email to Ryder’s private account, copied to me. *50 million or she dies slowly. No police. No media. Deliver by midnight or we start sending pieces.* The amount was insane. Even for Ryder it would require moving assets, drawing attention. The point was viciously clear: our love, our past, our inability to stay quiet had made my mother a target. Someone wanted to punish us by destroying the one thing that forced us to slow down.

"Miss Jones, are you asking me on a date?" "No," she answers too quickly. "I'm blackmailing you. Well, it's not really blackmail...it's more of a quid pro quo. And it's not really a date...it's a plus-one. It's a weekend. A deal for a weekend from hell." Her sentences all run together. I work diligently to keep my lips from gaping open. "Blackmail? Deal? Plus-one. A weekend wedding from hell?" She nods. "I'm intrigued." This is more than a deal. This is the day I've been waiting for, and I intend to seize it. "A whole weekend?" I ask. "Will we travel somewhere?"

“I know your ways. I know your style. You’re the kind who’d kidnap a billionaire’s child. Your eyes have always been on that girl.” He paused. Then reluctantly: “What do you want?” “I want in,” I said. “In on the ransom.” “You want in? Why?” “I want my share,” I said plainly. “You’re desperate. So am I. We can make real money.” He laughed, bitter. “Are you insane? There’s no ransom. Even if there was, why would I cut you in? You owe me for Marcus.” “Because I can make you smarter,” I said. “Three million to start. Not five. Darcy can get three quickly without raising alarms. When he brings it, don’t release the child. Demand mor

“I want my family back home with me now. The deadline is only fifteen minutes away—and the drive is ten—so that gives you just under five minutes to convince me to wait for you, detective…?” I could’ve sworn I heard a soft chuckle, but when she spoke again, there was no humor in her voice. “Marks. Detective Marks. And you were right to secure the additional two million, Mr. Hayes. We normally advise it to those who can afford it in the case of unseasoned ransomers, who tend to demand larger payments than they’d originally communicated.” Terror thundered through my veins, the tremor in my voice betraying me as I asked, “You think these are amateurs?” Inexperien

Right now, I needed to focus on the third component of my multi-pronged attack. The ransom note. This was the piece that would deflect suspicion from me, that would make me look like a victim rather than an orchestrator. The story was simple: I'd been kidnapped by the same rogues who'd attacked the ceremony. They were holding me hostage, threatening to kill me or torture me unless Damon paid a ransom or—better yet—came to rescue me personally. Damon, being the noble idiot he was, would feel obligated to help. We'd been friends for years, after all. Despite the awkwardness over Isabella, despite my obvious jealousy, he'd feel res