Captain Peralta Novels & Stories

I couldn't get the image of me screaming under him, cumming like an idiot and even begging him to fuck me harder out of my mind. I scrubbed my neck until the skin was raw, desperate to wash away the scent of him, that mix of expensive cologne and the lust in his eyes. I leaned my forehead against the tile, letting the water pelt my back. I was Elias Carter, the captain of the Northwood Titans. My life was built on discipline, morning drills, and a reputation for being untouchable. Yesterday, I was all those things before I lost to Ryder. "Get it together," I hissed at my reflection in the fogged-up mirror. My lower lip was slightly swollen, a visible mark of my shame. I looked at the "C" on

he smiled and turned to leave. “You know El Diablo, I was told you hardly reject a cool business, and with you doing this, it confirmed my suspicion. No man would have been able to pull that stunt last night, no man would have avoided the camera so much, no man would have kidnapped my daughter without leaving a trace, no man would have killed my men so effortlessly like that, no man would have accepted to that job knowing what I will do, no man would have been so efficient in it, no man would have perform the act so clean like that, no man except the infamous El Diablo.”

He was a jerk, a potential rapist, and from his last words to me, maybe a pedophile, and maybe he deserved this. He actually deserves worse. He had dismounted from the horse now, standing at his full height and with quick calculated strides, he was before me and I knew only one person walked like that and at this point, I didn't need more convincing but I still needed more as I refused to believe that I had been played. He brought off his gloves revealing tatted fingers and tatted hands. No… I looked closely at the hands trying to tell myself that it could not be and when my eyes found the Imelda tattoo, my heart fell and I was torn between throwing up and crying.

The adrenaline from the game finally fading and my muscles began to throb. “Hi,” her fingers pushed back my damp hair. “How are you feeling?” I chuckled. “Really sore…” Someone touched my ankle and my eyes clamped shut from the pain. “Oh fuck!!” “I wonder how such a baby became the Captain of the Black Hawks,” I heard Marcus snare and I looked at him. I glanced back at Olive without any reply to his childish effort at rilling me up. He growled. “I'm guessing this plump bitch is your caretaker. Explains a lot really.”

I nodded, unsure what she meant by that. A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she sat on the edge of the bed, still holding the gun on the doctor. "I have no idea what's so special about you...that's turned so many powerful Mafia dons into simps and brainless dogs, ready to do your every bidding. I still stand by what I said, you are a bloody witch, and the sooner you accept that, the better it would be for both of us..." Her voice trailed off, and she continued. "Because of your pathetic little ass, Deangelo has decided to go against the rules of a foreign country, and he is about to get what's coming to him. Congratulations, Perra. You are the weakness of the most feared Mafia don in Mexico

"We have one window before they regroup." As the team prepared for a retaliation operation, Elena quietly sat with Capello in the corner. "Do you think Mom would be proud?" she asked. Capello's voice was soft. "She always believed in you. She saw your fire. I failed her, Elena. I failed you. But I will make it right." Elena looked at him. "Then stay by our side. We need you now more than ever." Outside, the rain began to fall in heavy sheets. Dino tightened his grip on the assault rifle, looking at the wall of screens tracking cartel movement.

“George, Liam craves your cooking.” George’s voice then took over. “Millie, get yourself treated in the meantime. I’ll be there in a bit.” That night, he didn’t show up. The next morning, he sent me a photo of his cooking. “Liam had extra helpings. He’s in better shape. Is your stomach still causing issues?” I stared at the text message for a long time. My response was brief. “No.” Since then, I saved his contact as Captain Tanner. It wasn’t out of spite.

I force myself to stay calm, remembering what Dad always said: "Fear makes you stupid, and stupid gets you killed." The chains rattle as I yank against them, ignoring the way the metal bites into my skin. Each pull sends echoing clanks through the basement. My wrists are already raw, but I keep trying. There has to be a weak point somewhere. The door at the top of the stairs creaks open. Heavy boots descend, and a stocky figure emerges from the shadows. Even in the dim light, the facial tattoos are unmistakable - Lupe "Loco" Perez, president of the Dos Banditos.

The caption beneath the photo gallery was pure poison. Turns out our brilliant new strategic analyst isn't just analyzing playbooks. Cassandra Del Fierro is sleeping her way through the Golden Trio. Caught on camera spreading her legs for Chase Castillo on the hood of his car. Is this how she earned her spot on Coach Jimenez's staff? What a fucking slut. My throat closed up. My hazel eyes burned with hot, bitter tears that I refused to let fall. Portia.

When Maria De La Cruz and her team left the place, that little person lay down next to her grandfather, waited for two days for him to wake up, without disturbing him, and fed himself with a can of jam that was in the refrigerator. When Maria De La Cruz, was arriving to Peru, she had a macabre premonition, it was as if something really bad must happen, then she thought it was a good idea to stay in the ocean so as not to be discovered, nor captured by any technological device, or they would look for the Germans, she was a little lost, they had a heated discussion when the capital of the yacht told them;