Seller Novels & Stories

The merchant, confused but intrigued by the unfolding situation, inquired, "What are you suggesting?" Seraphina, ever the diplomat, stepped forward, "We'd like to propose a deal. In exchange for the medicine, young Altair here can work for you, and repay the debt." The merchant, considering the offer, looked the young lad up and down. "Alright, but he better not cause any trouble." Young Altair, gratitude evident in his eyes, nodded vigorously. "Thank you. I promise you won't regret this." As the agreement solidified, the marketplace began to dissolve, fading like mist in the morning sun. The sounds of bartering and chatter gave way to a haunting silence, leaving us in a void of darkness.

I heard the bouncer speak to a gay who looked more like a pimp. The gay examined my card, and surprise was printed all over his face, "S-sir, I am really sorry, you came too late." he came to me apologizing. "I know you have paid for Trixie as your exclusive performer, but your payment expired a month ago, and we have not heard from you since," the gay explained, "Trixie needed money, so I had to accept new clients for her."

My face lit up, and I softly thanked her. An elderly saleswoman with a friendly smile on her face warmly greeted us. "How can I help you, Sir, Mam?" she asked. Enrick pointed to the ribbon that Noella was already wearing. "How much is it?" The seller smiled broadly. "It's only five dollars, sir. But if you buy a set with the others, I'll give you four dollars each," she replied, offering more beautiful items. "Very well. Then pack for this lovely lady everything you think she would like to wear," Enrick enthusiastically told the salesman.

Katrina curiously clicked in to check and sure enough, the product was sold out. Katrina was in shock. Marcus smiled and asked, "How's that streamer’s sales ability?"

Grandmother cut me off before I could say a word. “And when,” she asked, voice still even, “are you selling the penthouse?” The question landed low and hard, like a fist to the solar plexus. There it was. I felt the familiar buzz ignite behind my eyes, that restless static that always warned me the edge was closer than it looked. I forced a slow breath through my nose and kept my voice level. “I do not have plans to sell it.” Taylor scoffed, loud and theatrical. “You have a penthouse I do not know about?”

Two tall, broad-shouldered men in black suits stood at the door, their faces expressionless. "Sir, we really couldn't get the money together," Finn's father, Peter Shore, said. He bowed slightly, his tone fawning. "So… we thought of another solution. We brought Mr. Olson a Christmas present." One of the bodyguards lifted a flashlight and shone it in my face. The light stabbed at my eyes, making me squint. "Her?" His voice didn't hold a shred of emotion.

She was actually excited for it. "How can I help you mam ?" She asked smiling. "Ah, I want to buy some of your very sexy bras." She said as she gestured to the bra's and panties section. "Okay, mam, Push up, backless, sports or lace....?" "I would take all but to be specific I need those which will make my man excited." She said without a hint of shame as she went along the saleswoman . "Sure, mam. Let me show you our exotic collection in lace." Salesgirl said as she took both of them, Selena and Sapphire , to the end bars.

He glanced down at me. “Ahh, you like the Samsung’s. It’s one of the top brands. I suggest the new Galaxy Ultra S21 Plus!” interrupted a saleslady. She didn’t look at me once while she spoke, instead, her eyes were hooked on Simon. I gritted my teeth to prevent myself from saying something rude to her as I watched her check out his biceps. Her search scrolled down his body and landed on his junk. Sucking her bottom lip in and biting it, she let out a quiet “mm-mm” like she was commenting on a delicious dish.

The moment the word leaves him, the seller begins looking at him differently. Not with pity. With calculation. “You are already taking something,” the man says. Finn’s stomach tightens. “I asked for a product, not an examination.” The seller leans closer to the counter and inhales once, discreet but not discreet enough. Finn steps back. The man’s expression changes. Interest flickers across his face, followed by caution, then greed. “Whatever you took is fighting your system.” “I know that.” “You do not smell registered.” Finn’s blood turns cold.

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