Ace Detectives Novels & Stories

I question him, and he holds my face and squeezes it slightly. "It's because I know what crime I committed, but since you came into my life, I've stopped killing if someone comes here at my mansion," Ace explained, referring to the detectives who visited his mansion. "Do you mean the detectives?" I inquired, and he nodded. "I command Max to handle it; he is informing me if any detective tries to come here so we can be ready," Ace replied, and I got out of bed. "That's good, but torturing Edward's men is still a crime, and he's trying to break you down and exploit my weakness." When he heard what I said to him, he became enraged.

Settling on the couch in front of the screen, I opened my soda and waited while Mason chose a game for us. ** I V Y I don't know for how many hours I've been lying down on my bed and staring at the ceiling. The only thing I could think of was the mafia. Ace was part of the Italian mafia. Did Mason know? Was he part of it too? I had so many questions yet answers to none. I couldn't just go and ask them, 'hey guys, are y'all part of the Italian mafia?' I was not dumb. They would ask me questions, like, how do I know of the tattoo? Where did I see it? And I wasn't ready to let anyone know that part of my life yet.

Adrian glanced at the doorway where Stephanie had disappeared. "No…let her. At least someone in this room is getting what they want." Seraphina almost smiled…almost. The detective finally appeared. A tired-looking woman most likely in her forties with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense expression. DETECTIVE MARQUEZ. She'd been assigned to the case after Adrian made several very loud, very angry, very expensive phone calls. "Mr. Vale. Ms. Cole." She sat down across from them, a thick file folder in her hands. "I have the results from the fingerprint analysis and the background check."

Matter of fact, neither does my father. The first most well known family is the De Santis. Most people don't know it but they're also in the mafia. And of course, they're first. Their leader, Ace De Santis is 22 and rumors has it, he is fucking awesome at his job. People are scared of him. I, however, most people think im a damn myth. Not that i care, people believe what they want. The leader of the Italian mafia is Ace while my father is the leader of the American mafia. We are allies... Sort of. "ALEXIA SKYLAR HALE. FOCUS.", My father yelled through the ear piece

The next morning at the police station, Ace is sitting in the interrogation room. Shortly, Officer Steve walked into the room with a folder and dropped it on the table in front of Ace. “I thought you were the good guy until you started killing innocent people,” Officer Steve said as he sat opposite Ace. Ace chuckled. “You got the wrong guy!” Ace said. Officer Steve looked at him for a while then said, “The records in front of you said otherwise.” “Your records might be correct. But they are not talking about me, they are talking about Leo, and I am not Leo.”

As I hear Nick grunt when he gets hit by the bullet, I feel sick again. "I can't watch this shit anymore, I'm ready to kill this motherfucker." Ace clears his throat as he secures his bulletproof vest, then puts a jacket over it, proclaiming he's a member of the Laurel Springs Police Department. Looking at him, I know he's just as ready to put an end to this as I am. "Where we going first?" "Dumbass like him? He'd go straight home." "You think so?"

“Mn. Okay. I don’t know what this guy’s involved in–but seeing as how important he is according to the Chief, we can’t afford to lose him.” “I know..” In the other room, Detective Benjamin Jones decided to sit across Ace. “So Ace–since you’ll have to wait here for a while. Why don’t we have a chat to pass the time, hmm?” Ace looked at him warily. He wondered if the person really just wanted to chat casually with him or was he investigating something. “So–you’re not from here?” He asked. Ace shook his head. “No.” “Where does your family live?” Silence.

No one. How did she flag him too? Shaking, I flipped through more. Then yanked open my drawer and pulled out my notebook. Page by page, I compared. Same direction. Same suspects. Even the rough sketches I'd scribbled of the scene—identical. Why? I forced myself to breathe and replayed everything in my head. Did I miss something? Didn't get far—Chief Doyle stormed in. "Captain Mercer, 813's hit again. Get your team to the scene. Now!"

In the end, Meredith and George decided to arrange a meeting with the police detective assigned to Helena’s case, Detective Sergio. He was a tall, lean man with clean-cut hazelnut hair. Alice could make out the wrinkles in his forehead and cheeks as he settled himself in front of her. She watched the man remove his black coat and placed it on the table before taking out a medium-sized notepad and a pen. Alice loved comic books about detectives. Her favorite was James Gordon; he was Batman’s acquaintance and a respectable captain of the Gotham City Police Department. Whenever she saw a detective, she could not help but be mesmerized by their badges and work.

"Nope. Don't count on it." Nicholas almost laughed at Ace, seeing his annoyed expression. He was being blatantly insulted by Alicia. Nicholas cleared his throat, then stuffed both hands into his pants pockets and walked over to Ace. "Tell me that information and get out of this room," he said with emphasis. Ace shrugged his shoulders dismissively. "You're surprisingly aggressive and impetuous, detective," he said sarcastically. "I'm going to ask you one question and you have to answer it honestly." Nicholas rolled his eyes lazily. "I don't have much time. Tell me what you want!"