Crime Thriller Novels & Stories

Jan 2012, Siegel Gambino vs Victoria Larei Fraser. "In this criminal case, Ms. Fraser is accused of murdering Mr. Ryan Fraser and kidnapping of Mr. Gambino in late November 2011" I squeeze my eyes close and took a deep breath upon hearing the judge's words. At the same time, I rub my sweaty palms together as I anxiously listen to her. She is about to announce the outcome of the trial. This trial has been going on for so long and today concluded it and I hate to admit that I am the villain of this story.

"How could you even think that about me? Yeah, I survived, but I was a victim, too. And now, just because of one photo, you're calling me a killer? Do you have any idea how much that hurts?" I swallowed hard, my voice breaking. "I said I probably fell asleep around 10 PM. I never said I was sure. My head was spinning from the altitude, and I wasn't clear. And come on—I'm just one woman. How the heck could I take out five grown men?" Alex's stare locked onto my face. "Yeah… doesn't seem likely." Just then, the coroner walked in with a fresh report, the pages still smelling like ink. He handed it straight to Alex.

The crime architect hadn’t just built the crime, he had demolished the evidence. Clinton suggested that they go solo on the case- no lawyers, no official channels, and no paper trail that could alert the wrong people. According to him, the truth they were looking for wouldn’t be found in court records or legal archives. It would be buried in plain sight, scattered across old newspaper pages and forgotten television reports from that period. If there were inconsistencies, that was where they would surface.

“There’s no urgency to it. Directors and investors are always interested in a good script. However, I have a question.” “What is it?” “Why is this called ‘Suicidal Christmas’? I don’t feel like I’ll enjoy Christmas anymore.” Freyja smiled. “I think it’s nice. A lot of victims in crime thrillers were killed, so ‘suicide’ is the biggest mystery. If you were a viewer, you’d want to know who’s the killer, but what if it’s a suicide?” Norman crossed his arms. “If it was a suicide, the audience would be more captivated. My uncle says that most crime thrillers have a similar storyline. It all boils down to the solving part.”

Half-mouthed. A young, executive-type guy in a plum-colored shirt, open tie, looks me up and down as he passes, turning his head to catch my gaze over his shoulder. My eyes freeze on him as the third one twitches open. I catch it shut, slamming down an image of him stumbling forward as he grabs at his throat—something black sluicing from his mouth, running over his hands. Hot as tar. Smoking where it spreads. There’s panic in his eyes. Like he doesn’t know why. He’s gone when I see clear again. Another stranger I killed for no reason.

He tried every key on the ring that we got from the guard and finally found one that worked. The smell inside this corridor was even worse, but I still was able to follow my nose to the last cell. When I walked up to the bars I froze. There chained up to the wall was the woman who smelled like sweet ripe strawberries. "Liam keys NOW." He ran over and unlocked the cell. I burst through the door and over to her. She looked up at me in fear, but then she smiled, "Mate." "Liam, hurry help me." "Malik, these chains are silver." I knew then that she was either a wolf shifter or a Lycan.

As Halloway always said “In order to be a good agent, you’ve got to be able to think like a crook and anyone that knew the Mafia families well enough also knew that they had to commit a crime to cover up an organized crime which most times would lead to a slip up. Although it was going to be really hard, Charlie knew that she just had to be a little patient because when that slip happened, she would be waiting to get it and hopefully unravel the deep dirty secrets of the mafia. Then New York would be a safer place and these dark times would be over. She looked up from the pile of paperwork on her desk which she was trying to get through ,yawning because she was beginning to feel a little sle

, a notorious crime boss, who is now the father of my child, and my husband to be. A criminal he is, and being associated with him should also make me one. Crime has never really been a hobby for me, but this one was way too good of an offer for me to pass. Falling for Marcelo Del Ponte, was my first criminal act. It is my only crime, and one I'd love to commit all over again. "Mrs. Emilia Del Ponte." Jennie whispered gleefully, emerging from behind me. I smiled at her through the mirror, as some ladies were still busy plastering my face with make-up.

I turned sharply toward him. Cameron went on, “His father was in jail. For murder. I told you this before. The man killed his wife, Elena. And now? He’s back in prison. Noah put him there.” He said it like that made Noah dangerous. Like protecting his siblings made him guilty. “He did what was right,” I said. “You call that a bad thing?” Cameron frowned. “I’m saying he comes from a broken family. A violent one. That’s not safe for you.”

Alfred said while walking towards the coffee maker. “What type of coffee do you prefer, black or creamy?” He asked Melody, clicking the two mugs together. “Creamy, sir,” Melody responded slightly, staring at Alfred, who didn't seem to spare her a glance. “Antonio is not like every other criminal; he has his tricky ways,” Melody insisted, staring at her boss with all inconvenience. “What ways, Melody?” Alfred demanded adamantly, but she wasn't willing to talk. How would she even tell her boss? She was involved with a criminal. How would she even tell her boss that the tricky ways he had were the ways he made her moan in sexual frustration?