The Great Gambit Novel 소설 & 이야기

Pale-faced and terrified, I clutched Nicholas’s hand, begging him to take me to the hospital. Instead, he kicked me in the stomach—hard. Then another kick. And another. With a chilling laugh, he sneered. "I paid people to frame you for that medical accident. "Theresa, can you believe it? Some people will even die for money. The poor will do anything for cash. Hahaha!" My pupils dilated in shock. He let out a cold chuckle. "I bribed them all. And now, you have only one path left—death. Oh, and that milk? I laced it with abortion pills. Hahaha!"

Hi guys... This is a new book called GARBA. I was inspired to write this book after watching one of my favorite web series: THE MEN'S CLUB. You can catch it on Red TV's YouTube channel. So please enjoy and leave a vote and a comment for the fulfilment of my soul. I really do hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. There will be frequent updates because most chapters are already ready. DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING BUT MY OC 'ZARA' AND A COUPLE OF OTHER INSIGNIFICANT PEOPLE. EVERYTHING BELONGS TO URBAN VISION, RED TV AND UBA BANK. THANK YOU. Enjoy!!!

“Before Adrian, I was supposed to marry someone else.” “Who?” “Damian Carter.” Mia blinked. “You… you were going to marry Damian Carter?” I nodded, but my legs suddenly felt numb, followed by an unsettling prickling beneath my skin. “He disappeared a week before our wedding.” Mia stared at me for a moment before her gaze drifted around the café, checking whether anyone nearby was listening. When she looked back at me, her voice had dropped. “He disappeared?” “I don't know what happened to him. He just disappeared.”

It was about the debt of a father to a son, and the debt of a billionaire to the girl who had saved him. ​As the doors opened into the lobby, the flashbulbs of a hundred photographers exploded like silent bombs. The world knew the Thorne penthouse had been attacked. They knew something was happening. ​But they had no idea that the real explosion was about to happen in the boardroom on the 60th floor. ​Julian gripped my hand, his knuckles white, his chin high. We walked through the sea of reporters, silent and untouchable. This was it. The Queen’s Gambit. And I wasn't playing for a draw.

"THE REVENGE EMPIRE: How a Scorned Wife Built a Billion-Dollar Business" The internet loses its collective mind. T*****r crashes twice from the traffic. LinkedIn is flooded with connection requests to anyone who's ever worked with either Hart Industries or Vale Tech. Leon Hart's Wikipedia page gets edited 847 times in one hour. The story has everything: betrayal, genius, revenge, corporate espionage, and a mysterious disappearance. But as the dust settles and reporters scramble to interview anyone who's ever met either Leon or Aria Hart, one question keeps surfacing in comment sections and T*****r threads and newsroom discussions.

“If you’re ready, please swipe your card here. We can begin processing.” Two hundred million. I handed her my first card. A beat passed. Then: “Declined. Mrs. Alden, do you have another one?” The room broke into laughter. “Thorne,” someone cackled, “did you forget to give your little wife her allowance this month?” “She’s betting like a queen and doesn’t even have a dime.” “If you gamble without money, the rule is simple,” another man jeered. “You sell yourself.” “For two hundred million? I wouldn’t pay a thousand for that bitch. Still too expensive.”

We caught them all and destroyed their shipments, making examples of them. Others tried to negotiate. They offered information about other criminals, about hidden operations, about corrupt officials. I took the information. But I did not lift the blockade. "Bring me Alexei," I told them. "Nothing else matters." One evening, I decided to inspect the new casino I was building on the east side of the city. It was a massive project. Five floors of gambling, entertainment, and luxury. It would be the crown jewel of my empire. "Should I gather the men?" Mikhail asked as I prepared to leave.

I instantly straightened up, feeling a blush creep up my neck. How audacious of me! Minutes later, I found myself in an estate that was legendary in the city. COMBS REGENCY I froze, trying to process the sheer magnitude of it all. Good heavens! I knew Xavier was wealthy, but was he really from *the* famous Combs family? I turned to stare at him again, but he just looked at me with an unnerving calm.

His mind spun with a thousand possibilities, each more poisonous than the last. He needed answers. Real answers, not the vague explanations or tired expressions that Ava offered. So, with trembling hands and a sense of shame he couldn’t shake, DeMarco did what he had always sworn he wouldn’t: he hired a private investigator. The man’s name was Garret. He was older, with a lined face and steady, unfazed eyes. He didn’t seem surprised by DeMarco’s story—just listened, nodding, scribbling notes in a battered notebook. “You want to know the truth,” he said, and DeMarco nodded, feeling his stomach twist at the sound of those words.

James greeted Isabella coldly, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. "Welcome, Isabella. You're finally here," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Isabella smiled nervously, "Thank you, James. This is...wow." James snorted, pouring himself a drink. "Save the small talk, Isabella. You're not here for the view." Isabella's smile faltered. "James, I—" He cut her off, his voice icy. "Let's get down to business. You're here for the money, and I'm here for...well, let's just say you're a means to an end."