Black Protagonist Novels & Stories

Alexandra says. Ruiz smiles. It is the smile of a man who has not been told no in a very long time and finds it almost charming. "You understand what happens if you walk out of this building with that ledger. You understand who it exposes and what those people are capable of." "I understand completely," Alexandra says. "Then you understand that there are people connected to that ledger who are not criminals in any conventional sense. People with authority over resources that you cannot outrun." He takes another step. "Give me the ledger. I will let you and the agent walk away. You have my word."

"Three years, Martin. Three years of the fishing town and the gifts and the owl at my window and the patience and the gentleness. Why? If my brother was just a name on a file and my father was just a loose end, what was I? Another project? Another game? Another painting for your disgusting collection?" "Because you were interesting," he said. I stared at him. "I've met a lot of people in my line of work, Beatrice. Powerful men, desperate women, killers, victims, liars, saints. Most of them are predictable. They break along the same fault lines, crumble in the same ways, give up at the same pressure points." He leaned forward. "You didn't. Cedrick chained you, and you bit him. He stripped you

The sound of a pack recognizing their Alpha. I stood at the edge of the courtyard, watching him bask in their adoration. This was Lucian Blackwood. Not the hedonistic playboy who treated his office like a pleasure den. Not the arrogant heir who propositioned me while still inside another woman. This was the Alpha who had leaped through a window to defend his people. Who had fought on the front lines. Who had led his pack to victory against a coordinated attack. And standing there, watching him move through the crowd with blood on his skin and triumph in his eyes, I felt something shift inside me.

My jaw throbbed from where someone had knocked it out of line earlier. But I didn’t make a sound. Because standing in front of me—dressed in all black, hands in leather gloves, and a gaze as dead as the grave—was him. Benedetto Morreti. The Mafia Boss of The Black Empire. The man who raised me, broke me, and rebuilt me as his weapon. He didn’t speak at first. Just stared. His salt-and-pepper hair was slicked back with precision, his dark eyes scanning me with that same cold detachment he used on corpses and bank ledgers alike. He looked more like a priest than a kingpin. But I knew better.

Mister Black was already fed up with Oscar's childish game, so he got up from his seat, ready to carry Cecelia home, but then huge men from nowhere suddenly surrounded him, as if they were aware of his interior motive all along. "I need to pass, leave my way!". Mister Black said with a hoarse voice. "And if we don't, then what are you going to do?". The man in front of Mister Black asked. "Nothing! but I request you leave my front right..........". Mister Black was unable to complete his statement because one of them suddenly attacked him with a knife in his hands. Mister Black started fighting the men surrounding him, and this is what he loves........ which is to shed blood.

"Rock, Shin! Kill him! Once we're done here, we'll head into Eastblue city to kill off all their families in revenge for the death of my son!" "Yes sir!"the too many standing behind him roared in unison and acknowledgement of their masters order as they stepped forward. What made these two men stand out was the way they were dressed. The one was dressed in all black was Rock, while the one in all white was Shin. They were Lucas Brown's right hand men and had killed hundreds of people. They were notoriously known for being ruthless and no one had ever survive their attacks. They were the reason Lucas Brown was where he was today.

He was the only one that was wearing black, other in that room and those at the door from the restaurant were wearing pure white uniforms. The man was their boss and his name was BLACK MAN. He was a notorious adding criminal in US and it was only Buniyaminu's stepmother that he was working for but also uses to work as an hire assassin for other people and doing this for people not know that she was the one that he was working for.

They were in town to bury the body of Anthony. Another name that resurfaced in my thoughts was Manto "The Butcher" Moretti, an African drug dealer. He was a member of a powerful drug cartel who had betrayed my father by leaking sensitive information to the enemies. My father considered loyalty as one of the most important virtues, and betrayal was met with swift and brutal punishment. The Butcher met his end at the hands of my father's loyal enforcers.

They were infamous. Petrov. Sokolov. Brothers by bloodshed, not birth. Legends in the criminal underworld. Ruthless. Loyal. Unshakable. It was said that to strike one was to invite death from all three. The moment you harmed one, the others would hunt you to hell’s doorstep and drag you back just to watch you bleed. And they were loyal to Bain Blackwood. Her stomach twisted, but her face remained calm. “Are you ready for that kind of comeback?” the lieutenant asked quietly. “Because if we touch him, we don’t just get him—we get them.”