Caballero Novels & Stories

Arabella heard an unfamiliar voice and asked, “You are?” “I am President Garcia’s assistant, Caleb. President Garcia is very busy right now. If there’s anything, I can pass on the message for you.” Upon hearing his words, Arabella also did not want to beat around the bush anymore. “Is he busy with the Camry Resort’s incident? Is he at the resort right now?” Caleb replied with a “Yes” and she continued asking, “Is Mayor Alexander Hall there too?” Caleb felt very confused as he did not know why she was asking about that, but he still honestly replied, “Yes.”

The silence stretches, every second a torturous reminder of the power he holds. His gaze drifts to Salazar. “Who exactly are you?” Salazar’s face hardens, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Felipe Salazar,” he says with a gleam of defiance, his voice rich with irony. “Perhaps you know me better as ‘El Cuervo.’”

Caleb glared at Alejandro, his grip on his neck tightening, and loosening at intervals. Caleb! Cassandra came again.

“Yeah, that’s Logan Carter.” There was a round of Oh's and ahs from the group at the window. I heard my phone buzz on the table with a notification. I closed my laptop down and grabbed my things. A lot of the office stayed at the window watching as I exited. I must admit they were correct; he looked exceptional. He was wearing dark jeans, a crisp white T-shirt and a black leather jacket. He was leaning against the bonnet of a car I didn’t recognise.

"Uhm, can I have your ticket?" Kane raised a brow, amusement flickering in his blue eyes. "Ticket?" he repeated, his voice deep, teasing. The redhead—Mona, according to her name tag—bit down on her plump lower lip, her gaze darting everywhere except at him. "Sorry, it's just... you look familiar." That made him chuckle. Oh, really? He tilted his head slightly, his gaze flickering to the large poster plastered beside her booth—a giant picture of himself, fists raised, the underground champion.

I argued. He smiled and nodded. "I'm afraid your brother isn't who you thought he was," he said. "When he learned the truth, he couldn't help but want what we had to offer." "What truth?" I asked him. He looked at me dead in the eyes. "That your grandfather isn't Otto Müller," he said. "His real name is Wilhelm Goebel. He was the European aid to Cain's father. Your grandfather was a very powerful Lycanthrope with a lot of an influence."

𝐓𝐨𝐩 𝐬𝐢𝐱 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐳𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬: April Waje: the automobile engineer who recently made a limited edition 𝐏𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞 that sold billions. Yara Chizaram Williams: The director and owner of 𝐋𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥 and 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐲 𝐀� ��𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬-𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

A petite figure roamed up and down the corridors of the hotel. Just as Phelan left the room, the man in the bed opened his eyes. His eyes were sharp like a hawk. The hidden bodyguard who was then Don Carlton looked at him, wondering whether he should go after her or not, as he cast his eyes on the man in bed. Don Carlton thought for a moment and went forward and knocked on the opened door of the presidential suite. “Come in,” the man in bed said. His voice was as cold as ice. Don man walked into the room and saluted respectfully, “Young Master.”