1. Avarice


    Date: 10/15/2015, Categories: Hardcore, Author: gilrenard, Rating: , Source: LushStories

    friend. Good eve, Mr. Renard,” he replied and ended the call. ~ Jackie called me, “I’m sorry for yelling at you and leaving the way I did,” she apologized. “No apology necessary. Are you in trouble, Jackie?” “I’m not in any trouble, Gil. My aunt passed away and named me as the sole heir to her two hundred million dollar estate. With a condition attached, that I cannot tell you.” “Perhaps we shouldn’t be talking about it, Jackie.” “I’m serious, Gil, I don’t care about the money. I am willing to let the cat have it all, if that is what it takes for to you marry me.” “The cat?” I asked. “Forget the cat. Marry me, Gil.” Jackie pleaded. “Come by tomorrow morning and we will discuss all this,” I sternly said and hung up. ~ Bartholomew called his employer, “A new development, Sir. Jackie seems intent on marrying a, Mr. Renard. She has hinted at the will, but has done so, without breaking any stipulation.” The gruff voice replied, “Not an option. I want the estate. Offer Mr. Renard five million dollars cash, from my personal account, to leave Ms. Kent at the altar. After you disclose the conditions of the will to him. This will leave him no option but to take the money.” Bartholomew’s jaw clenched, he regained his composure and replied, “That is dishonest, Sir. Ms. Kent has acted well within the boundaries of the rules that were laid out for her.” “Fuck the rules! I’ll be damned if I walk away from two hundred million dollars. Do as I say or I’ll find someone who will!” the gruff ...
    voice growled and hung up. Bartholomew was powerless. The man behind the gruff voice had knowledge of a past indiscretion. He had no choice but to follow the order, or risk shaming his own family. Bartholomew called me and asked to meet. I invited him to my apartment. “Bartholomew Andrew Windsor,” he introduced himself when he arrived. “Gil Renard,” I replied and shook his hand. We sat at the kitchen table and he handed me a copy of the will. He was uneasy as he sat in silence and waited for me to finish reading. I closed the folder and stared at Bartholomew in silence. He cleared his throat and asked me, “Your decision, Mr. Renard?” I studied Bartholomew, trying to get a sense of him before I asked, “Five million dollars to break a woman’s heart?” “I assure you this is not personal. I want you to know that I find this situation vulgar, and certainly take no pleasure from it. I am doing a job, that is all,” he answered calmly. “What are you getting paid for this job,” I asked him coldly. “I will be refusing payment from my employer for this. I have no choice but to follow his orders, but I vehemently refuse to profit from this vile act. Things and people aren’t always as they seem, Mr. Renard,” he replied calmly. “And if I decide to pursue legal action against you and your employer?” I threatened. “That would be an exercise in futility, Mr. Renard. I am a ghost, and my employer holds a very powerful position in England.” “Would you be disappointed in me if I accepted the money? ...
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