The Millionaire Real Estate Agent Novels & Stories

I mean, the world was vast and open to all but there were such things as this. "Are you a cop undercover? Listen man, I do not want any troubles. I'm just doing legal jobs to make ends meet. I plan on renewing my passport if only you could give me the end of this week. Please, my family back home, they are all counting on me to help them." He was saying rather quickly. I knew how to spot each kind of person when I wanted. "I can assure you that I am not a cop or anything related to them. I am just a dying millionaire who has less than six hours to live." I said to him,

" She said as her hand searched the files again, revealing a small photograph of a handsome man. Well, he was a handsome fine man, and for a moment, I could get lost in his damn face. "This is Theodore Maximiliano." "Maximilliano Real Estates' CEO." She declared, and I raised my eyebrows in surprise. Someone with this type of name? He was undoubtedly a powerful man. How was I supposed to do this kind of job? Never planned on ruining someone's business. Rich people would always have certain characteristics. "What makes you want to ruin him?" I inquired, and she glared at me, agitated by my question. "That is none of your damn business!" I am not asking why you need the money I am offering you

He was the kind of person that didn't show off. He preferred to keep a low profile and did his things discreetly. “Look Mykel,” I began. “My husband owns properties. Houses, lands, name them. He has cars. He owns a McLaren F1, a Rolls Royce, a BMW, and a Bugatti. He's already a millionaire and will be a billionaire in his thirties. Do you know how many contracts he bags? He has capital!!” Fuck I was pissed. Fucking pissed. No one got to insult Malcolm and walk away, not especially when the person was a nobody like Mykel.

A five year marriage, no children, and no interference in his private life in exchange for fifty million dollars. I hadn’t slept the night before. I’d lain awake in the small guest room at home, staring at the ceiling, trying to count reasons not to come here. But each one fell apart when I remembered my father’s shallow breathing… the unpaid hospital bills… the creditors circling like vultures around our dying company and I couldn’t just watch them die. Not while there was still hope. “This… This isn’t exactly something I dreamed about growing up,” I said, my voice thinner than I wanted it to be.

Daphne rolled her eyes so hard I thought they’d get stuck. Lorraine cleared her throat and launched her campaign. “So, Andrew… I can call you Andrew right?” “Sure,” “What exactly do you do? Must be something quite lucrative to afford a watch like that.” “Real estate,” he answered easily. She nodded, but her eyes were already sharpening. “I expect nothing less, a man like Mr Ashford has quite the potential.” Daphne chimed in. “Yes. Daphne here's got real star potential—potential modeling offers rolling in left and right. Sophia, bless her heart, never went to college.

Officer Miller offers his apologies before being cut off by his partner Pennet. “I’m sorry to dive into your personal life, Jessie, but I have to ask - it seems that you have funded your husband’s start-up of his career prior to his multi-millionaire status. Can you tell us how you obtained that money?” “It was an inheritance. I don’t see why that’s important,” I said, trying to keep my tone steady. My palms felt clammy against the hospital sheets, as the faint beeping of my heart monitor filled the silence that followed. “We’re going to get to that in just a moment,” Officer Miller replied, his voice calm but firm, like he was piecing together a puzzle I didn’t yet see.

If her parents came to visit, they could stay there, and the property was registered under her name. The real estate agent knew very well that anyone who could afford a place in this building was not short of money, but he hadn’t expected the buyer interested in the unit to be a Wilson. “And… would you like me to negotiate with them?” the agent asked carefully. Oriel rolled her eyes. “Just send me the number.” She wanted to see which arrogant rich man thought he could buy anything he wanted. Frank’s assistant called him half an hour later. “How did it go?” Frank was in his private heated pool at the time, his tone casual.

One of New york’s youngest and richest bachelors. In the first photo, he stood in front of a floor-to-ceiling window with behind him. Arms crossed. Expression cold. The image screamed money. Power. Control. I scrolled. My eyes nearly popped out of my head. Billionaire. Owner of Knight Enterprises. CEO of Magical one of the biggest talent agencies in New york. In the world. Anyone signed to Magical had already made it. That building was a dream most people would never even stand inside. If I got in…

He’s almost better than me in the cooking department. His--our mansion speaks volume of his wealth, his accent shows he's of the elite class, that he comes from money. A man who is that rich should have someone who fights his battle for him, do the dirty jobs. There should be people running around our big house because it requires a lot of maintenance which I can't handle alone but there is none, no single person but us. Maybe he gave them a break for us to have privacy but I doubt it. Trailing an imaginary line on the bridge of his nose, I ask, "Has… has it always been this way?" He grabs my hand, bites down on my fingertips and a shiver runs down my spine.

My eyes zero in on the fifth name. Jei Clementine. Spoilt son of a billionaire father. Filthy rich and pampered. Unlike him, I am not spoilt. I take calculated risks, make informed decisions. Rumours have it that his father threatened to disown him if he continued philandering. Jei is desperate, he needs a reliable company to invest in. To show his father he is making good use of his inheritance asides from spending it on strippers and unreasonable purchases.