Cyberpunk Dorio Novels & Stories

He gripped his wine glass like a lifeline. “Dad, these are the casello's brothers — Lorenzo and Alexei,” She said. “Enzo and Lex, this is my dad — Aron.” “Mr. Rumero is fine,” her dad said with a shortness that made Lilith peer at him. “I’ve always liked Mr. Rumero” Lora said, smiling as she attempted to diffuse whatever tension had built upon the arrival of both father and daughter. “I think it sounds like a superhero. But what would your superpower be, Mr. Rumero?”

I asked, looking at him. “P - P - Pete,” he stuttered, “Please, I have a family. Two kids,” he bargained. “And I’m not mother Theresa,” I pulled the trigger at him and the bullet went into his skull. I sighed and looked at Colin, who looked surprised. “Clean that up,” I said, and he nodded, quickly moving. “I have what you asked for,” Dario said, looking back at Colin. "Leave us." “He is one of us now,” I said, taking off my bloodied shoes. "Isn't that right Colin?,"

“And you’ve ruined my fucking shoe.” Dario walks over to me as I hold out my hand, and he places one of his favourite blades in it. This soldati doesn’t know just how far my reach stretches and that I knew he broke Omerta yesterday when he turned snitch. I reach down and end his miserable existence by replacing my heel with the blade.

--- Across the city, in a warehouse that smelled of rust and old blood, Dorian poured himself a glass of something dark and watched the sun rise through filthy windows. He was beautiful in the gray light—golden hair catching the faint illumination, amber eyes gleaming with something that might have been pleasure. He had waited a long time for this. Centuries, watching Alexander Volkan play at being human, pretend he was something other than the predator he'd been made to be. And now, finally, Alexander had given him the weapon he needed. The girl. He smiled, lifting his glass to the dawn. Luna Marchetti. Antonio's daughter. The last of the bloodline that had caused so much trouble for his ki

To beg for it to stop. But I've done my research. I know what that thing can do. And I'm going to beat it. Behind the glass wall, shadows move. The audience. I can't see their faces clearly, just silhouettes. Watching. Waiting to see me break like all the others. Dorian stands beside the platform, clipboard in hand. He's the owner of this club, the creator of The Gauntlet. Tall, dark hair silvering at the temples, the kind of calm that comes from watching dozens of women fall apart on this machine. He's seen it all. Nothing impresses him anymore.

Darius replied. “Well… I don't think anyone's going through all that because I'm with nobody, doesn't mean I want to be with you though,” Sophia said with an eye roll. “I'm Darius, CEO of Dynamo Tech,” he said, stretching his hand and making his voice slightly deeper and smiled at himself as if waiting for Sophia to jump on him but she stood still.

Her presence steels my nerves. We reach the clearing. The cave yawns open like a hungry mouth, and the enemy waits. Rogues. Dozens. No masks. No mercy. They form a living barricade around the cave mouth like sentries of hell. And Dorian stands among them. He looks different. Taller. Pale. Something… inhuman. “You’re late,” he drawls. “Touch him and you die,” I bark to my warriors. “He’s mine.” Dorian raises the perfume vial and sprays it across his neck like it’s cologne, not corruption.

Dorian glares at them one last time before falling back to his seat grudgingly. Just then, A new face strolls in, a jagged scar running from his head to the front of his neck. Drogo stirs faintly on the surface, the bloodthirst rolling off the scarred face manages to wake my wolf from his slumber. Dorian notices too, his shoulders tensing.

The Moretti name still stood in stone, but tonight it smelled of blood. I fished the burner from my sleeve. One person I could use without walking into the Vulture’s eyes, Dario. His nickname, the Watcher, was whispered across the city; he kept small lines of power and men of his own, an estate like a watchtower tucked off the coast. He had a weakness I could exploit. I tapped the device. “Dario.” Static, then his low voice: “Emilia.” “Did you know?” I asked, too calm for what I felt. Too cold.

“What do you need?” “Come with us.” Not wanting to cause a ruckus, Dio went with them peacefully. Yet he was annoyed by the way they surround him as if he was a criminal who needed strict guarding. “If I was tied in ropes, people would think that I did something wrong,” Dio said to the man beside him. “Sorry, but we need to bring you to our master. We know that you are strong and swift so we couldn’t let our guards down.” He could hear Blur’s chuckles inside his head but he decided to ignore his bond. He let them guide him until he found himself in a VIP room in front of the head of a big merchant guild— Hearth Merchant Guild.