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I'm Adrian Morritle We Create Games
Last Updated:
2025-11-03 18:44:14
Latest chapter
The Devil In White Chapter 18: The Trap
After completing the call with Luca, I contacted the council. I did so for one reason: to draw blood without firing a single bullet. The long marble table stretches before me. At its head my father once sat; now the position belongs to me. The men surrounding the table, captains, lieutenants, and advisers watch me with careful eyes. Some are loyal, some are opportunists, and some are snakes who wear smiles. Luca stands behind my chair in silence, his arms crossed. Marco lounges several seats away, a glass of scotch in his hand, observing me with the faintest smile that expresses equal parts pride and curiosity. Isabella sits to the side, not an official participant in the meeting but not excluded either. Her hands are folded neatly in her lap, and her face is calm and unreadable. She knows that she is being watched. She also knows that I have not completely forgiven the shadow that once followed her. However, tonight is not about her at least, not yet. “Gentlemen,” I begin, my vo
The Devil In White Moretti Bloodline
The night doesn’t end. It stretches, silent and heavy, long after Isabella leaves the study.The villa is sleeping, but I can’t.The whiskey glass still sits by the window, half-empty. I turn it slowly in my hand and watch the city lights tremble in its reflection. My thoughts circle the same truth—someone close betrayed me. Someone inside the Moretti bloodline fed the enemy our coordinates.The warehouse wasn’t just an attack. It was a message.I grab my coat and gun. No guards. No Luca. Not this time.The drive through the southern streets is silent. The air still smells of smoke, and every turn reminds me of the fire earlier—the screams, the collapsing steel, Luca’s blood on my hands. Rage sharpens my focus. Mercy is a weakness I can’t afford anymore.The abandoned communications hub stands on the edge of the old industrial zone. A relic from my father’s time—long unused, long forgotten. Or so I thought.Inside, dust hangs thick in the air, swirling through the faint beam of my fla
The Devil In White The Trap Inside A Trap
The explosion hit before dawn.I remember the flash first, it's was white, blinding, too silent for half a heartbeat. then the roar that followed, tearing through steel and glass. The Moretti warehouse was supposed to be secure. My father’s men built it themselves; every inch of concrete, every bolt, every gate was meant to be untouchable. But as the ground split beneath me and fire climbed the walls, I realized that “untouchable” was just another lie. I was not supposed to be scared but I was.The impact made me, hit the ground hard. Dust and smoke filled my lungs. Somewhere behind me, Luca shouted my name. I crawled through the debris, gun in hand, my vision blurred from the smoke. The alarms wailed, a dying sound against the chaos.“Luca!” I shouted with everything in me.A faint groan answered me. I found him under a fallen steel beam, his left arm was twisted, his own blood pooling beneath him. I grabbed the beam and shoved it aside with a grunt, adrenaline burning through me.“C
The Devil In White The Game Of Lies
Adrian POVThe sky outside the villa is still dark when I open my eyes. The air feels heavy, charged with the kind of silence that comes before a storm. Beside me, Isabella sleeps — or pretends to. Her breathing is soft, too controlled. I lie there for a moment, gun resting on my thigh, watching her through the faint light creeping in through the curtains.She looks peaceful. Innocent. But I can’t forget the image of the tracker in my palm. The weight of that lie still sits in my chest.I rise quietly, pulling on a shirt, my mind already spinning through possibilities. Who placed it? Why through her? And why now, when everything in this family is already tearing apart?I pour myself a glass of water and turn to her when she stirs.“You were talking in your sleep,” I say calmly.She blinks, eyes wide. “I was?”“Yes.” I tilt my head slightly. “You said… ‘He’ll never know.’ What won’t I know, Isabella?”Her lips part, confusion flashing across her face, then the soft tremble of a forced
The Devil In White I'm Adrian Morritle We Create Games
Adrian POVThe signal leads us to the outskirts of the city, where the air smells like rust and smoke, and the only light comes from flickering street lamps that haven’t worked properly in years.Luca parks the car a block away from the location. The building ahead of us is nothing but a shell of old brick walls, shattered windows, a collapsed roof in the back. It used to be part of the old Moretti communications network before my father shut it down.Now it’s alive again.Not with people, but with sound, faint electrical hums that shouldn’t be there.Luca moves ahead first, gun drawn. I follow, silent, scanning every corner. The dust on the floor is disturbed, fresh footprints layered over old ones. Someone’s been here—recently.We reach the control room, and my pulse tightens.Wires snake across the walls, connected to screens and recording equipment. Some are still running, faint blue lights blinking on the consoles. On one of the monitors in my villa. Different angles. The study.
The Devil In White The Silent Game
Adrian POVThe tracker blinks once before going dead in my palm.A small device, harmless in size, but heavy with meaning.The necklace I gave Isabella, my mother’s necklace—isn’t what I thought it was. It’s not protection. It’s now surveillance.The air in the room turns colder. The hum of the night fades. I stare at the tiny piece of metal like it’s whispering something I can’t afford to ignore.I don’t move for a while. Just breathe. Watch. Think.Then I walk to the desk, set the necklace down carefully, and call Luca.He answers on the first ring. “Yeah, boss?”“Get down here,” I say quietly. “Now. And come alone.”Minutes later, his footsteps echo through the hall. When he enters, he takes one look at my face and doesn’t ask questions. His eyes land on the necklace lying open on the table.“What’s that?” he mutters, stepping closer.“Tracker,” I say.He blinks. “Where’d it come from?”I let the silence answer him. His expression hardens. “Don’t tell me”“The necklace,” I cut in,
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