The Great Gatsby Novels & Stories

Although he could buy ten of them. The Forbes Ball. A night of splendor, aristocracy, and the one percent of all one percent of society. Bill gates, Mark Zuckerberg and other distinguished oligarchs in the business world were all present tonight. Gianna was almost stricken with panic as she walked inside the building, clutching onto her purse tightly, she gently wove her way through the upper echelon crowd, evading a few conversations she was almost strung into and made for her table immediately. It was surreal, seeing the tiny placard on the table with only her name on it,

PENNY Wickedly smart. Insanely intelligent. Sexy and terrifying. Son of a senator. CEO of Hilton Tech and the most eligible bachelor under thirty. Christian Hilton is apparently a huge deal and now a giant wall standing between me, my inheritance, and opening my bakery. “The city’s leading man,” Jess reads off her phone beside me, then snorts. “I’ve never heard of him.” Which is the truth. He’s a stranger. An unknown and I’m expected to just marry him.

Tasha's eyes flickered in awe as the car drove through a huge gate. It had a vast and elegant inscription on it 'The Radcliffe Mansion' The outside was filled with guards who looked hefty like badly built mannequins. Tasha and Nelson just got back from the airport. Tasha's heart was still crammed with grudges - the built-up grudge caused by the fact that Nelson hit her because she confronted him for cheating on her. For a second it all wiped away at the sight of the magnificent building.

of course, I’m a bit quirky. How about you? Do you like books? I pulled up my second phone and logged into a burner account to search for her profile again. After a moment of intentional scrolling, I saw that she was obsessed with one book in particular. The Great Gatsby. I felt my interest pique, and before I could stop myself, I shot a quick text to the family's personal secretary; “Get me a copy of The Great Gatsby before nightfall tomorrow, Jones.” “On it, sir.” His response came in instantly, but I didn’t spare it a second glance as I threw the phone to the side and focused on my original.

“You don’t have to apologize, Richard. This is your world… and now, I’m part of it too. Maybe I’m not strong yet — but I’ll learn. As long as you’re by my side, I can handle anything.” Richard’s hand tightened on the wheel, a flicker of pride crossing his face. “You already are strong,” he said quietly. And as the car sped away from the blood-soaked warehouse, the only sound left behind was the wind — carrying away the ghosts of a war that finally ended. ----- Another side. Steam swirled through the marble bathroom, scented with lavender and champagne. Britney lounged in the tub, eyes closed, a smug smile playing on her lips, candlelight glinting off her diamond bracelet — her hard-won luxur

Kai, already settled in the front passenger seat, muttered, ‘Miss Abrams went in, sir. I offered no response. The Rolls-Royce Ghost idled silently, the air conditioning blowing a cool, lightly fragrant air through the cabin. It did little to mitigate the heated agitation in my chest. I wanted to yank off my tie, but I was not in the privacy of my Mayfair residence. I kept my eyes trained on the tablet in front of me, but the latest issue of The Financial Times failed to capture my interest. Hyacinth was still in the lounge. With Cary Grant. And with that woman, Vanessa, who, even from a brief look in passing, advertised herself as a woman looking for trouble.

On my nightstand was a glass of water, some pills, and a note. Isabella, I'm flying to New York tomorrow. Give me one month. —D I crumpled the note in my fist. One month. Long enough for a woman to see a man's true heart. And long enough for a man to lose a woman's trust for good.

He kept his eyes on the road, silent — as if her voice were nothing more than a passing breeze. She turned her gaze away, tired of asking questions that only led to silence. Outside, the landscape had transformed. Towering buildings lined the highway; elegant cars sped past. This must be the life of the elite, she thought — a world that belonged to people who had something to prove. Then, realization hit her. Silvanus was wealthy. The truth became undeniable the moment they entered a grand building. People greeted him with respect — almost reverence — as if he were a powerful man, someone of high standing.

He muttered to himself. The next day, the story was printed with a large picture of Theodore. Theodore was in Portugal when he received the news. Natalie was having breakfast when the news was broken to her that Theodore was on Page Six. She opened the newspaper and read the headline “The Forbidden Billionaire’s Dirty Little Secret” Maybe the world can learn new synonyms now. For Mr. Theodore Gilbert is the forbidden billionaire and Miss Natalie Greene is his dirty secret.