2024-01-05 15:52:05
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KATHY?
"But why? We agreed that I come over to check the house, some minutes ago. So why can't I purchase it, now that I have checked it and I'm pleased with it?"I'm sorry, Mr Wallace. The authorities have instructed us not to sell the house to you." "What the heck are you talking about? What authorities?! Look, don't play games with me, man. If you're not pleased with my price, then tell me to increase it and I will. Don't tell me you can't sell that house to me..."Before Roy could finish talking, he noticed two able-bodied men at the door of the house.They were dressed in dark suits and wearing stern expressions. They stood there as if they were sentinels guarding the mansion's threshold. Their presence was intimidating.Roy's initial surprise quickly gave way to indignation as he ended the call and approached the men. "What's the problem?" Roy asked with a frown."Who are you, and why are you here?"The taller of the two men, a burly figure with a stern face, stepped forward and prod
TAKING OVER
The next day Elvis decided to visit The Elites' Estate. He had to start a new life now that his status had changed. On arrival at the estate, he met with the security guards who greeted him with so much respect as soon as he introduced himself. Mr. Paul Klein had called them earlier to inform them that Elvis was the new owner of the estate so he was going to be coming around. Therefore, as soon as Elvis introduced himself, they welcomed and bowed to him in respect. Elvis was dumbstruck by all he saw. The estate was magnificent, sprawling over acres of meticulously landscaped grounds, offering a breathtaking blend of natural beauty and architectural elegance. The mansion stood tall with its breathtaking ornate architecture. As Elvis approached the mansion, he noticed a sleek black car parked in front of the houses that lined the estate. It was a car that looked very familiar - the same white Ford vehicle he had seen at Mr. Dwayne's birthday party. He could tell by the plate numbe
NEVER WILL
As the conversation between Elvis and Mr Paul continued, the tranquillity of the room was shattered by the sharp ring of Elvis's phone. Elvis's expression shifted from attentive engagement to reluctant distraction. The device was illuminated with the name "Leslie." Elvis furrowed his brows in surprise, wondering what his betrayer-wife was calling for. "Apologies, Uncle Paul," he said as he picked up the call. Almost immediately, he heard Leslie's voice. "Elvis Klein, you loser and low-life!" Elvis's eyes widened in shock at the sudden barrage of insults. He had anticipated a conversation and not a verbal assault. "Are you out of your mind?" Elvis confronted. "Well, I just addressed you by your names. Or have you forgotten them so quickly? Anyway, my lawyer has the divorce papers ready, so get ready to sign them this afternoon." "Thank you for letting me know," Elvis smiled. He was not bothered about the divorce. What was the point in keeping a slut as a wife, anyway? Anoth
THE GRAND EMPIRE
Hansen, Mr Paul Klein's special assistant led him through a series of opulent hallways until they reached a set of double doors which he pushed open to reveal a lavishly furnished study. The room was a symphony of rich wood and leather, with bookshelves lining the walls from floor to ceiling. Behind an imposing mahogany desk sat Elvis' Uncle, a middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair and a perfectly tailored suit. "Elvis," Paul's voice was warm, his smile genuine, as he rose from his seat to approach Elvis. "It's been far too long." Paul enveloped Elvis in a warm hug. Elvis had always expected his uncle to be aloof, at least, a bit cold. But this display of affection was unexpected and comforting. "I apologize for not reaching out sooner," Paul said as they took their seats. "You see after your parents passed away, I lost track of you. I didn't know where you were or what had happened to you. For years, I searched, but I couldn't find you." Elvis felt a twinge of confusion. A
ONE BILLION DOLLARS!
Still wearing tattered clothes, Elvis strode into the grand marble-floored bank, determined. The chandelier sparkled above him, and the air was filled with sounds of laughter, and prosperity. However, as soon as he entered, he noticed the indifferent glances from the bank staff. "Good morning. I'm here to open an account," Elvis announced, but the staff members who heard him acted as if he was invisible. In a split second, a customer walked up to the counter close to where Elvis was standing. "Hello, Miss. I'd like to open an account," the young man announced. He was wearing a designer suit and shoes. "You're very welcome, sir. Please take a seat," The staff answered quickly, as she brought out a form and swiftly attended to the wealthy man, with a smile. She was Helena Smith, one of the customer care representatives. She was a beautiful lady with a curvaceous body. Undeterred, Elvis stood in line, waiting for his turn to speak with the representative. He watched as others who c
REAL OR FAKE?
Elvis could understand that it was Leslie who gave the security such an instruction. It was getting dark, almost 8 p.m. Elvis needed a place to rest his head until the next morning. He tried calling his closest friend and colleague at Toner Associates, but he couldn't reach him on the phone. He walked up to the company where he was yet to be sacked, if he would be given a place to lay his head for the night. After all, he still worked for them. After walking down the road, he arrived at Jensen's Company. Mr Klein, what are you doing here at this time of the night?" the gatekeeper asked. Even though Elvis was a familiar face in the company and known as a cleaner, he wasn't expected to be seen around the company premises at that time of the night. Mr. Jones, please, I need a place to sleep for the night. Can I sleep in the company's lounge until dawn?" "No, please. I was told not to let anyone in after the working hours." "But I work here, and you know me well. I just need a pla
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