Robert Greene Audiobooks Novels & Stories

We passed through small villages where lights were already out, everyone asleep. The only sounds were our engines and the crunch of gravel under our tires. My phone rang and Robert’s name flashed brightly on my screen., I answered immediately and pressed the phone to my ear. "Is everything alright?" "I should be asking you that." Robert's voice was stronger than the last time we spoke"Have you found her yet?" I shook my head even though he couldn’t see me. "Almost. We're fifteen minutes out." "Good. Bring her home safely, Giovanni.” He said and I could hear the emotion in his voice. “Both of them."

Darren looked at him calmly and said, "What's wrong with that? "Robert, I don't care about what you've done in the past." He lowered his gaze and continued in an indifferent tone, "Did Dr. Greydon's disappearance not knock some sense into you?" At that moment, Robert was taken aback, and he nearly lost his composure. Did Darren find out about something? No, that was impossible! Darren couldn't have found out that he bribed Torrence, Darren's doctor, to switch up the medicine he used for treating Darren's legs, attempting to let depression drive him to the brink of death.

Greene replied. “Then take your tension elsewhere.” Even Watson obeyed that. As they prepared to step out, Tricia caught Raymond’s sleeve. He bent toward her. “I am sorry,” she said quietly. He held her gaze. “I know.” Not absolution. Not yet. But not rejection either. Outside in the corridor, Mr. Greene’s phone rang. He listened for less than ten seconds before his expression changed. “What is it?” Watson asked. Greene lowered the phone slowly. “The records company responded faster than expected.”

I purposefully keep my attention forward as I right the table and begin to gather the fallen books. “Rafe, I’m not surprised to find you here on your first day of freedom. Are you searching for anything in particular?” Robert greets as he bends down and picks up a book, examining it. “The Moonstone?” he questions as he sets the book on the table and slides it across to me.

Then, a strange fragrance filled the air, enveloping Robert. Meanwhile, Alexander, who was following behind Robert, collapsed directly to the ground. Almost simultaneously, a middle-aged man in a green robe appeared before Robert, his voice tinged with mockery. "I knew there was a strange smell. I didn't expect it to be a warlock. Since you've brought your sinister practices here, don't think of leaving!" Seeing the green robe on the old man, Robert felt like he was going crazy. His voice trembling as he uttered, "How could there be a spiritual alchemist here? It's even a descendant of Trigrams Therapeutics…"

Robert asked, his voice laced with a barely restrained vexation. Suzanne stepped forward, introducing with a professional but warm tone, “This is Jacob Hawthorne, our potential partner here. Jacob, this is Robert Gibson, CEO of Green Marbles Fashion and one of our key partners on the West Coast.” Jacob extended his hand casually. “Pleasure to meet you, Robert,” he said smoothly. “It’s good to finally meet one of my co-partners. Welcome.” Robert clenched his jaw tightly, anger simmering beneath his composed exterior as he noted Jacob’s unwavering attention directed towards Jessica. Taking a steadying breath, he replied through gritted teeth, “Could we have some privacy, please? There are busi

Chase gritted out. I arched a brow and shot him a sideways glance. He had told Ron that we were mates? Was that what the weird smile at breakfast was about? Ron looked between up and I knew the exact moment Chase’s words clicked because the tip of the gentle giant ears turned pink I fought down the snicker that rose and settled for a smile at his embarrassed reaction. Ron cleared his throat and turned serious. “I got information on Greene’s activities recently activities.” He shot me a look and glanced back at Chase, probably silently asking if it was okay for him to continue with me present.

He growled, his voice laced with anger. "You really hurt my feelings there Robert." I turned around and faced Robertson with a sly smile. "Give me a name." He remained silent. I grabbed his neck, just when I was about tightening my grip, I heard a weak whimper. "Reed… his name is Reed, he's a priest at St. Gunnivere."

But it held everything. “How many files?” Adrian asked. “Forty-seven. Six months of conversations between Robert and Victor Kane.” Adrian’s jaw tightened. “Can we listen now?” Sarah gestured to her laptop on the coffee table. We sat. Adrian inserted the USB drive. Rows and rows of audio files appeared on the screen, dated, timestamped, labeled. My stomach twisted. Adrian clicked the first file. Static hiss. Then voices. “Robert. Thanks for taking my call.” Victor Kane. His voice was unmistakable.

“You’re gonna pay for that–“ he was saying when he saw that face. The man had moved to the side, giving Robert enough space to stalk in, a smirk on his hard tight face. It was certain George obviously recognized him as his eyes widened in shock and the cigarette fell to the ground. “George Brown,” Robert called in a whisper, irking at the smell of the cigarette in the completely disorganized room. The small bed in the far end of the room was clustered with a heap of raggedy clothes all over and under it. Snack wrappers at every corner. Only a ray of light shone into the almost dark room through a small window and a table he had been leaning against was occupied with phone parts. Apparently,