Novel & Cerita The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari

he defended. “Your mom? Really?” Without thinking, I hit the answer and put it on speaker. “Babe!” a guy’s voice spilled out, excited and way too familiar. “What took you so long? That ass nigga Dee keeping you busy or what? I knew it. Anyway, I got the money you sent to me from his account—so yeah, I picked up the new Ferrari today. Posting it on the story in a minute. Can’t you just kill that man and take all his money already? I miss you. I don’t like the idea of sharing my man—”

he said looking at me with a smirk My smile dropped for a second upon hearing him call me that, but I managed to revive it , without saying a word I looked at him ready to crush him as I remembered our deal Unlike any other nights this wasn't a normal street race instead of placing our bets with money like we usually did both of us had decided to make it more interesting by that I mean betting with our cars, the deal was if he loses he gives me his red Ferrari and if I lose I give him my green Lamborghini which technically isn't mine, let's say I borrowed it, okay fine I stole it but the owner deserved it and I wouldn't mind losing it" it's just my pride that I cannot afford to lose

One of the thugs bought the building and renovated it. Eastman Club, while open to tourists during the day, would transform into a secret location where people of the underbelly met at night. At that moment, in the VIP private room, a few thugs were sitting around a table, raising their glasses to a bald monk. The monk had six scars on his head. He did not look one bit benevolent. Instead, he looked extremely hostile. He was clearly a fighter. "Mister Harley, my price for this fight is one hundred and fifty thousand."

Albert nodded again. I continued calmly, “The Ferrari 488 GTB is rare. If you drive it every day, people immediately know it’s your car. Now tell me—what would my friends think if they saw me climbing into Don Albert’s car?” Albert froze for a second. Then realization hit him. “You’re right, Master. I apologize.” I waved my hand dismissively. “No need to apologize. Just don’t repeat it.” Albert nodded seriously. “Understood. Master… where are we going?”

I guess it is because he doesn't trust my negotiation skills. I noticed the car stopping. I realized we had arrived at the mall I noticed a red four door Ferrari parked right in front of us. The driver jumps out and opens the back door right behind the driver’s side and damn it is the Greek God again he is wearing a red suit and a black shirt he ties his suits buttons and straightens his sunglasses he starts walking this way no he is not.

He asked immediately as he stopped the car, not hearing the name I called for him since I was talking so fast. I immediately unclipped my seatbelt and got down from the car. It was a red Ferrari. "Signore Driano. Once again, you showed me that you'd remain a dirty-minded frantic. You want me to be your woman, in your dreams. Just forget about that. And I don't want to see you ever and ever again till this world comes to an end and till Christ comes as a thief in the night."

There was also a ring scar on his barren scalp, so he was a proper real monk. “D*mn, it turns out that you’re a monk! “So, you aren’t Seth Zamora either. Who the heck are you?” Alex was a little shocked as the plot was developing in ever stranger ways. After touching his big, shiny head, the monk flew into a rage, but he was a little surprised by Alex’s method. “How the heck did you know the ultimate move of that bald *ss, Ksitigarbha? What’s your relationship with that bald *ss?”

"....... Owning powers over his family's companies and numerous power plants wasn't enough. He wanted more and everything he could lay his hands on. He's rumored to be known as the second coming of the devil himself because of his cruel ways of dealing with people below him...... " " Ah, Maddy? " I called, hoping to catch her attention this time. The last thing I wanted was actually spending the rest of my two hours of shift listening to her lame mafia story. Maddy's eyes crosses mine, a sheepish grin crossing her lips this time before she slowly shifted on the bar stool she sat on across the bar table from me. " You know I'm not buying your mafia story anymore , Maddy, especially not tonigh

My father has nothing to do with this. But he does, Marco remarked, his voice softening. "You never paused to consider who supported you along the road; you have been rather busy creating your empire. Who let you climb so effortlessly and quickly? I wrinkled, my head whirling. What was he referring to? I had battled every inch of my territory, every contract, every triumph. Nobody was tugging the threads behind the scenes. none who— It suddenly dawned on me. Like a goods train, the awareness came over me and left me dead.

"And you just decided this? You sold me off like some commodity?" "Don't be dramatic, Maisse!" he snapped, his voice losing its veneer of joviality and taking on the sharp edge she knew so well. "This is for your own good. For our good. Do you think I enjoy living like this? Scrabbling for every shilling? This is a chance for us to finally live comfortably. To be respected." His eyes gleamed with a self-serving vision of grandeur.