Trash Of Counts Family Novels & Stories

"Can we please start over?" I looked at his fake, desperate face and felt nothing but disgust. Calmly, I asked, "Hey, Liam. Do you know anything about sorting garbage?" He was caught off guard. "What?" I pointed at him. "You… are the hazardous waste I threw out. I have a bit of an obsession with cleanliness. Once I throw something away, I never pick it up again." His expression shifted from pleading to shame and anger. He wanted to say more, but I turned and walked away, leaving my bodyguards to stop him behind me.

She grabbed at my clothes. "Are you determined to destroy this family? Your father cares so much about his reputation. If you expose this, how will he have any dignity left?" I looked at her calmly. "So the only way this family survives is if I keep sacrificing myself? "So many things have happened, and he hasn't come home once. You fainted and went to the hospital. He didn't even answer his phone. "Mom, stop lying to yourself. You keep thinking about this family… But your husband gambles and cheats, while your son and daughter-in-law are leeches. I was the only one standing beside you, and you kept turning against me."

They stepped inside, holding up their torchlights, only to be met with a room filled with garbage. The stench was unbearable, thick and suffocating. Amidst the filth lay a worn-out, grimy mat—it had been my bed. The only possession I had was a tattered doll I'd brought from home. The doll stood out in the squalor. Its age was apparent; the fabric was faded and patched in several places. Yet, it was clear the doll had once been cherished, lovingly repaired by its owner.

I looked up, eyeing Whitney who still had some fight left in her. Grasping onto a slither of hope, I asked shakily, “Where is my child, Whitney?” “She’s dead somewhere. I dumped her in a remote forest. The wild animals probably got to her.” “Do you have to be so cruel, Naomi?” Keith looked at me in disbelief. I stared at Whitney’s manic expression, my suspicions confirmed. Still, the truth was hard to swallow.

But explaining this to her was a complete waste of breath. Once I left, the Castellano family would inevitably decline anyway. She'd understand exactly how valuable I was soon enough. I said calmly, "I'll finish transferring all the partner contacts this week. Next week, I'm officially out." Valentina looked at me mockingly. "Perfect. I'd love to see which family would take in trash like you, someone who only knows how to climb up by selling her body." Nico was sweating bullets. Without the Fortune Consigliere, how long could the Castellano family's business even last? He was already calculating his exit strategy.

The clean hallway outside our home had turned into a disgusting garbage dump covered in buzzing flies. There was a designated trash area in the neighborhood, and everyone here had lived together for over a decade. There was no way people didn’t know where garbage was supposed to go. Anthony immediately exploded in anger. “Who did this? Throwing trash in front of someone else’s door like this, do you people have no shame?” Someone nearby muttered under their breath, “It’s still nothing compared to being the other man.” Anthony immediately lost it, grabbing the speaker by the collar. “What did you just say? I’m telling you right now, Anthony is not an adulterer! The real adulterer is that fake

A week after we arrived, Vivian signed Nico up for a small after-school class near the clinic. It was nothing like the programs in New York. No family connections. No special access. Just a rented gym, six children, and an instructor who cared more about balance than pedigree. Nico liked it immediately.

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.

She bought all the pretty clothes and dresses she'd never been able to wear before, trying them on one after another in front of the mirror. … Three days later, I told them the time limit for undoing the exchange had passed. Only then did Erica finally unlock the door. Inside the room, Mom had already collapsed and was barely clinging to life. She was rushed to the hospital, where she stayed for over two weeks before finally being discharged. But that was just the beginning of her suffering. With half her face now a grotesque patch of burn scars and a permanent limp, Mom was fired from her job. As for Erica, after she recovered, she spent her days running wild and spending money like it was

She buried her face in the filthy toy and inhaled deeply, as though it were the very air keeping her alive. … From that day on, everything changed. The house that had once been so clean and empty slowly turned into a junkyard. They started bringing home everything they could find—abandoned plastic bottles, worn-out clothes that others had thrown away, stones from the roadside, and withered branches. "Eddie might like this box," Mom said, placing a greasy cardboard box in the middle of the room. "These newspapers can go under the table," Dad said, stacking them in the corner. The junk just kept piling up. It buried the corner where I used to sleep, flooded the living room, and choked the hall