The Millionaire Real Estate Agent Novels & Stories

She tossed her head defiantly and retorted, "Mortgage? Why would I need a mortgage when I've just won 50 million dollars? I'm paying in full." The sales agent's demeanor warmed instantly. "If you're interested in this unit, you can pay a deposit of one million dollars. If the lottery funds haven't been cleared yet, you could arrange for a bank loan." Her words made Aaron and Shayla hesitate. Right then, I furrowed my brows and snapped impatiently, "I'm starting to doubt that you'd even won that 50 million dollars. Are you here to cause trouble? If you can't afford it, then stop wasting everyone's time and get lost!"

It has eight master bedrooms, a theater room, game room, a living room, a library and two in built offices. "Let's discuss the price. "Alex said to the real estate agent who's name he came to know to be Gavin. "How much is it?"He asked seriously going all business mode. "It's a 200 million dollars mansion". "Ok, let's head back and I'll write you a check." "I'll ask my assistant to meet us at your building with the papers. "Sure am sure my lawyer is already waiting for me at the company"Alex replied.

“If we do end up not buying any of the houses here, it’s probably because of their low quality!” The real estate agent snickered derisively. “Seeing how poor you two look, I wouldn’t be surprised if you don’t know how expensive thirty million dollars is. Buying a house? Is that even possible for you?” “You’re just here to take some pictures to post on your social media, aren’t you?” “Don’t be shy and just tell me the truth. I can play along!” “What I hate the most is when beggars step into this place and try to act high and mighty, as if they’re magnates!”

But… I wasn’t rich enough for that. Yet. “Bella Monroe?” “Yes?” I held my chin an inch higher. It was either Reed or Monroe. And I loved Monroe better. I almost didn’t pick it because it began with M.O. like Morrison. But I liked it way too much. It made me sound classy. Elegant. The receptionist tapped lightly on her keyboard, scanning through the file on her screen. “Alright,” she said after a moment. “Your interview has been scheduled.” My breath caught slightly. Already?

“I’m glad. And how’s Emily? Hope she isn’t bothering you too much. I’m sorry I was unable to come pick her up today like I promised.” “Oh nonsense. You know that our little angel is always welcome to stay with us as long as she needs.” “Thanks ma.” I replied. “But what is this I hear about your husband being a millionaire or something like that?” She asked, changing the subject with precise expertise that was peculiar only to the Jones’ household. He was actually a billionaire but I didn’t feel the need to correct her, ignorant being bliss and what not. “Yeah well, that happened.”

I shot back, saying, "And you think you can afford it?" Patrick tilted his chin proudly. "Of course. I won 50 million dollars. I could buy several units in cash." The sales agent's demeanor flipped instantly, practically rushing to his side. "Sir, how can I help you?" Patrick pointed lazily at one of the displays. "That one looks nice." The agent's eyes lit up, immediately launching into her pitch. "Excellent choice, sir. That's the best apartment in the whole complex: prime location, best view. For you, it's practically nothing. It's only 20 million."

He grilled steak and didn’t offer to share. Monday morning, the realtor arrived. In her mid-forties, sharp bob and braid smile . She walked through the house cooing over “original charm” and “ocean views.” Julian followed her, his arms crossed. I stayed in the kitchen, pretending to wipe counters that were already clean. When she left, he found me on the back deck. The ocean was blue and the waves crashing like applause. “She thinks we can get twelve,” he said. “Million?”

“You think that’ll stop me from sending Tinder and Tree to Evon? To give them all the things your family stole from me? You can never touch my personal wealth. My wife is a millionaire.” “No, her parents are,” I pointed out, walking across the room by the big window, watching people moving on the street. “Real estate, right? Her dad is a property mogul, right? I bet there’s a whole lot to look into there, too,” I said, clicking my tongue. “I’ve never met a New York real estate guy who likes to pay his taxes.” At this point, I was so deep in Morgana Landon’s family money, keeping an eye out for any mistakes, I could tell Herold things about his in laws that I doubted they even knew about each

Rather than accept, the man narrows his eyes, and I know he’s one of those rich entitled assholes who thinks he’s supposed to have anything in the world. “$100,000” he says smugly, and everyone gasps. A few years ago, I would have gasped too. Now, I only narrow my eyes back. That's the problem with having such an open invite, I wasn't able to sift out the prideful millionaires. “Sir, I said-” A deep voice rises at the back, “I’ll give you 1 million for it.” The hairs on the back of my neck rise. I know that voice, more than I know my own soul.

A house so large that the courtyard was as vast as a palace garden. Lynda's lips parted in amazement at the sight of the mansion. "They're so rich, but why is the salary only two thousand dollars?" Mia muttered, Lynda turned to look at her best friend, but Lynda did not say anything because she did not know the reason either. There were about eight people who had passed the first stage of the selection, and now it was time to go face to face with the owner of the house who would choose one of the eight maid candidates.