The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari นิยาย & เรื่องราว

As he opens the bottle, a memory rushes in like a wave “I see you were already leaving,” Mon had said as his gaze shifted slightly to the luggage nearby. “I… I was going to Italy for a business trip,” Mr Saito had stammered, struggling to keep his calm. “Italy…” Mon repeated, his lips curling slightly. “Oh, che, romantico. Sunset... wine... freedom...” His voice turned cold by the time he said that last word. Mr. Saito’s smile faded instantly. “Can I have the document now?” Mon asked flatly.

Damon got in next to me and started explaining how to drive. “Unfortunately it's not electric. No saving the planet today.” He finished and I stared at him. This man was unbelievable. “Maybe I'll crash it and you can buy a new one,” I said with a raised eyebrow. “You can pick the next car.” He said with a grin in response. “Well. I know a good car salesman, maybe I can ask him for a good deal,” I said and I quickly started the car, not waiting for his response. The engine roared to life and with a grin I put Ferrari by James Hype on.

Apollo says looking at her. She just glared and then said, "Next time I won't be saying a shit at either one of your funerals the only thing I'm going to do is make sure you are dead," she glares at them while all our girls laughs at their faces. "Okay moving on, it turns out the man was the son of one of England's most riches but he stole billions from his father to become the biggest mafia boss in the world when his father found out he was already gone. Michael was traveling from country to country to recruit men under a false name, of course, that's how he found Hector." Aris told us as he sits down.

Andrew bowed upfront of him and then left the place. Just as they left the place, old monk opened his eyes, but this time there was something different in these eyes. His eyes were burning red and the pupil inside changed its colour to golden. Only his eyes are so scary that once if someone saw it, the person will get nightmare for whole month. Monk moved towards a big mirror and saw himself in that, then he started removing his shirt. The moment he removed his shirt, in the mirror a face appeared that was attached with his tummy.

This marked the beginning of my journey to win over the pilot and evoke deep feelings for me. I had uncovered some very interesting details about Lorenzo through a quick online search, which only heightened my interest in him. As I had suspected, Lorenzo is extremely wealthy. He's Italian and heir to a renowned winery located in the town of Franciacorta, Italy. Furthermore, he's a Formula One champion and enjoys immense success in the most lucrative category of motorsport. In summary, he's a potential candidate for a serious relationship, something I realized from the start, and I need to seize this unique opportunity that has presented itself so perfectly in my life.

"I really fucking like her, Maurício. But I don't want to hurt her, you know that our life is not easy at all and imagine if she finds out who I am and what I do, she'll think I'm a loan shark or a hired killer, that's less worse than selling women, don't you think?" "We are barely doing this, and besides, we are winery owners, Roberto, that's just a detail. But I'd like to take a break from this auction business." "And how are you going to charge those who have no money?" "The way they already know how, if you have no money, you pay with your life. But I think of those who are there of their own free will, just wanting to get along in life, while the men are looking for someone to spoil and

And somehow… That scared her more than the interrogation itself. — Meanwhile— Jace sat inside the Ferrari silently. The poorer side of Atlanta stretched around him. Old apartments, broken sidewalks, faded stores barely surviving. He muttered to himself, “How do people live here?” Mr. Romero stood outside the mechanic shop smoking nervously. He looked at the envelope in his hand again. Then toward Jace. Then back at the money. “You rich people are crazy,” he muttered. Jace stayed calm. “Do we have a deal or not?” Mr. Romero walked closer to the car slowly.

His light skin which was almost pale did well in complimenting his deep blue eyes. He was tagged by the media as cold and inhumane. Others tagged him as the blue-eyed devil, but all that did nothing to bother Gianluca Martelli. As long as the media didn't give any disturbing news about him. He was used to it. He has been used to it for almost a decade now. A few minutes later, the car pulled up in front of his mansion, Luca's Mansion, as the media named it. The mansion was a five storey building, that was situated in the middle of New York City.

Dad added three fucking Ferraris to the collection last month. Talking about irresponsibility and shitty extravagance. I know it is his fucking money, but wasting it on things that don't have any fucking value instead of using it to increase the measly salaries of his construction workers is really disgusting and cruel. I finally locate my Yamaha baby. The entire body is black and shiny, the seat is also black leather and smooth, and the windshield has this Jaguar sticker that my best friend Marco sticked to it the very first day I bought this motorcycle.

I put on my sunglasses and slammed my foot on the accelerator. “Dante! I hear a new casino is opening in Monaco. Care to race me? First one there wins it all!” “You’re on!” Dante roared with laughter, flooring it to catch up. The two supercars sped off along the cliffside highway, racing into the sunset. They kicked up dust from the coastal road. In the wind, there might have been a faint, lingering scent of designer cologne from the Valenti estate. But those three years of deception, along with the ashes of the Valenti family, had long since been carried away by the Mediterranean wind.