Trash Count Family Novels & Stories

I only found out three months ago that Zach was from the Stein family, one of the wealthiest families in Ashton City. When I realized he had been lying to me about being poor, every ounce of humiliation and heartbreak came crashing down. I lost it. Completely. I tore the whole place apart, smashed everything that reminded me of him, and told him it was over. He dug through piles of trash in the pouring rain to retrieve everything that held a trace of our shared memories. He cleaned them up and pieced them back together.

[WHIITE-EYED WOLF : Ungrateful cretin] She hung her head low in regret and utter disappointment, as though she had lost the battle of her life. I looked at this duo of grandmother and grandson and jeered in disdain. They were a joke in the name of family. Their hearts were as black as a cauldron, all they could ever acknowledge was power and money. In front of power, all else was mere dust in their shoes. These kinds of beings were the epitome of TRASH. Suddenly, my thoughts were interrupted by the voice of the Countess Wroth, "Since I and my family have been pulled down to such a pathetic state, I do not want to shrink back from speaking the entire truth now."

The idea of being blackmailed by Zeff, already foolish enough to take, with Trevor knowing about this letter is an expected chaos that would break his family in a snap. “Oh, nothing. Just trash.” Zeff was fast to elude Trevor’s grip, crumpled it and kept it inside his pocket. Max watches the incident in silence. His heart stopped from beating for a second when Trevor was about to take it. Felt relieved when he failed to get it off Zeff’s but immediately turned back to irritation when Zeff chose to keep it in his pocket rather than throwing it in the trash can that was just a few inches away from him. “So did you find it?” Trevor asked his son.

If it reached Liam, it would be very detrimental to Logan and his parents if their family found out that Logan's mother had secretly given him so much money. "You came to the treasury department holding trash? Huh? Don't you have any manners?" Marion pointed to the trash bag behind Logan. As soon as he spoke, everyone's attention turned to the trash bag, and several staff members murmured in dissatisfaction. "Yeah, how dirty is it holding trash…" "The treasury department is a school department. It's too impolite to bring a trash bag in here, right?" ... "Sorry," Logan said. "I can't believe you know to be sorry." Marion sneered and then sized Logan up.

Even buying an ice cream meant comparing prices at three different stores before committing. Now I understood. Alisha West, my wife, had been preparing for the family’s collapse all along. "Kiddo, I’m not sick." I rubbed my temples. "I just… finally figured things out." At that, Alisha and Elyse exchanged a glance, then quietly went back to flattening cardboard boxes. The comments drifted across my vision again. [Oh? The spendthrift Kayden Day’s changing his ways? Yeah right. He’s definitely faking it to trick her into buying him something even more expensive]

She was dressed in clothes with no identifiable brands, yet one look told you that they cost a fortune. "Rachel Speight," he said. "She's the daughter of one of our business partners. She's pretty, right? She's not like you. She doesn't need anything. She can just have fun with me without any concern or worries. "She comes from a good family, and she's very innocent and pure. For my sake, she fought with her family for a long time. I have to give her a proper title." He pulled the phone back and carefully caressed the screen. It was clear that he cherished this woman—so much so that he couldn't even bear to let me look at her for one extra second.

It only took about twenty minutes to load her stuff into Jim's jeep and her car. I took her TV and a couple of boxes in my 924, barely able to even squeeze that little bit in. I hate to admit it, but I was thinking about trading the toy in for something more useful. Sometimes I hated growing up. The feeling passed, and I thought it'd be better to get rid of the piece of crap car Debbie drove around in, and replace it with a family van. I'm sure she'd appreciate it, and I could cling to my first big purchase a little longer, even if a truck would have been a lot more sensible.

Every detail of tonight had been crafted for perfection but I wasn’t here to be dazzled. My gaze flicked toward the long row of velvet-covered seats near the front. There they were. The four families. The Brown Family— fake smilies, fake smiles on their lips, but their children were already stirring trouble at the far side of the room. Spoiled, entitled, rotten to the core. The Galen family —cold, always calculating. Their eyes never stayed still, scanning every face, measuring worth. Then, the Frost Family. My eyes darkened. Zeke’s family. My ex-husband. The ones who caused my sister death and made me a clown.

Travis quickly said, “Grandpa, don’t worry. We’re a family. If the Zea family is in trouble, I, Travis Jensen, will go through thick and thin for you!” Upon hearing Travis’s words, the Zea family were overjoyed. Everyone started praising him. “Travis is the most reliable, after all. In times of need, only Travis can help us.” “Yeah! If our Zea family can make it through this difficult time, Travis will be our biggest benefactor!” “Travis, when will your family transfer the money over?” Travis immediately shook his head instead. “My dear relatives, you must have made a mistake. Our family can’t accumulate twenty million in cash on such short notice either!”

No one can say that the Young family spends too much money on food for me, that’s for sure. I’m so used to tiptoeing that I don’t realize I’m doing it as I walk down the hall where Grandmother Trudy’s office is located. As the head of a company that specializes in building event centers–stadiums, arenas, concert halls, etc.--she is not only exceedingly wealthy but very business savvy. No one in the entire city–maybe even the entire country–would dare to face off against Trudy Young in the boardroom. “Sam Savage did what?” Trudy shouts, likely into her phone. “That right bastard!”