Sold Book Novels & Stories

He said through gritted teeth, his lips lifted from a side into a devious smirk as he pointed his gun directly at directly at Delvin's head; he aimed his forehead. Immediately Delvin clasped his sweaty palms together and knelt on the floor. "No, please don't kill!, It's just that Sara is the only relative I had left, the poor girl lost her parents in a car accident and I'm the only family she has left. Selling her off, to you was a mistake" he cried out. On hearing this Felix heart melted a bit, as he felt sympathy for Sarah. Almost convincing Felix. But he would not by the crap, he knows Delvin is a selfish monger. If he cared about her as he claims, he wouldn't have sold her in the first p

*Patricia’s POV* I felt the tension that surrounded the entire kitchen of the bakeshop as the news about the new owner spread. Everybody’s wondering why the old owner of the bakeshop sold the rights of all the branches of this bakeshop since business was doing well and in fact, the name of the bakeshop has been a household name already. They say that it was sold to an old man, but since he got sick, his son came to take over and handle the business.

Everything I wanted to do I do without anyone's disturbance. In this three and a half months of time span, I got new contracts and the paintings I uploaded online, were all selled out, which cost me thousands of dollars. With that amount I bring some gifts for everyone including Aaron and family. And rest of the amount I save for my own painting studio.

the old lady said as if she were conveying a profound message. Zoe squinted. “Nana, perhaps these,” she shifted her gaze around before returning her gaze to Nana, “—these will be only temporary. And I’m confident that Helios will eventually decide to release me—” “You’re already sold to him, Zoe. Helios is someone I am familiar with. But promise me one thing…” the old woman sighed, “—trust him.”

“I know this isn’t what you wanna hear at this time…or any time. But it’s?—” Sadie nods, grabs her things and hugs me goodbye. She shuts the door behind her, but it feels more like a slam, shuddering my body. How the fuck am I supposed to fork out extra money? Answer: The illegal auction happening Friday. What other fucking choice do I have? Begrudgingly, I take out the card and stare at it. Conrad O’Neill. He sounds like even more of an ass than Otis’s father.

"What kind of event is it?" "Business. The kind where you smile when necessary and say very little and make absolutely sure you don't draw attention to yourself." "I can do that," I said. He picked up his paper again. ++++++++ The dinner was at a private club in the city. The kind of place that doesn't have a sign outside because it doesn't need one, because if you don't already know where it is you aren't supposed to be there. Inside it smelled like old wood and money and the specific quiet of people who have never had to raise their voices to be listened to. Round tables, low lighting, the muffled sound of careful conversations happening in every direction.

“I didn’t save you then because you weren’t fully mine. But now that you’re here, little bird, you’re owned.” Shock, cold and absolute, rippled through me. My jaw dropped. “Owned? I am not an object! You can’t just—” His dark chuckle cut me off. It was a chilling sound, devoid of warmth. “Oh, but I do, little bird. You became mine the moment your dear brother, Carlos, sold you to clear his debts. Along with almost all the shares in your father’s company.” The air left my lungs in a ragged gasp. What was he talking about? That couldn't be true, yet the look in his eyes said otherwise.

that catch my attention. Here, they record a staggering fucking fortune in the millions. There is no way their little shop of BDSM gear and other assorted perversions downstairs is bringing in that sort of money. The “products” they sell have to be human, but each of the ledger entries is marked with nothing more than a number. The first sale took place approximately six months ago. The latest is pending for Thursday. Extracting a little camera, I take pictures of multiple pages, zeroing in on the most suspicious, then shove the books back into the safe. I check my watch. “Four minutes.”

Simmons was going through the record book. "Have we had any customers?" Ms. Simmons asked as Maisse put her coffee on the table next to her glasses. "No m'aam. No customers." Maisse replied. "Okay, go make yourself busy. The sales have been low. Do something about it or I will have no choice but sack you." Ms. Simmons threatened. "Yes ma'am." Maisse left. How was it her fault that the sales were low? She only sold what was on the shelves. Ms. Simmons had refused to stock citing that she was waiting for the thanksgiving holidays which was a month away.

She pulled away. We both stared at my website. "Do the honors." Sarah said with a smile. Fingers crossed. With my eyes closed, I clicked on launch and started waiting nervously with my eyes still closed and fingers crossed. It was taking so long for me to hear the word I'd anticipated for so long; I was already giving up that the anti-wrinkle product was a failure. "Sam!" Sarah yelled. "Sold out!" I widened my eyes at the screen to confirm. It was true! 200 anti-wrinkle products sold out in a couple of minutes! It wasn't even up to five minutes.