Gregorovitch Death Novels & Stories

“Mark Jones. You know him, don’t you? He once was a thug working under Luther too, but he suddenly went missing, and that’s around the time Luther stopped forcing you to earn money for him—” I could not listen anymore and shook my head rapidly. “Stop! Please stop talking! I’ll confess, alright?” But Captain Zimmer ignored my pleas and continued, “At the same time Mark disappeared, Luther’s driver went missing too. Luther has already admitted that Mark killed his driver.

“He wanted me to give up everything. Both families. Isabelle. All of it.” “And now?” “Now he’s dead.” Simple words that carried the weight of the world. Gregory caught my eye and nodded. The scene was set. Francisco Moretti, overwhelmed by family pressure and financial troubles, had met his end alone on a hospital rooftop. Sad but believable. The city sprawled below us, millions of lights marking millions of lives that would never know what had happened up here. Normal people living normal lives, untouched by the darkness that Adrian and I called home. “We need to go,” I said finally. “Before someone comes looking.”

Yuko asked curiously at her. "Gregor. Uncle Josh talked about him once but, he never said anything about Level E's." She answered. "Is that so? Okay, we understand that but, who is Gregor?" Yuka asked. "Based on uncle, maybe he was the one who resurrected Socrates from death when mom killed him before." She explained. "Really? The queen already killed him before and that Gregor resurrected him so that he can create more chaos here." Aristo commented.

he agreed, “And look at the authorization signature at the bottom.” My eyes traveled down the page to the scrawled, sharp signature in black ink. I recognized it instantly. It was the same signature on the land deeds I first thought Lucian had snatched for himself when we just got married. Until I learned whose signature it was. Gregory Blackwell. “Your father,” I whispered. “He’s dead,” Melanie said, leaning in. “Everyone knows Gregory died in the rogue wars like Twelve... fifteen years ago.” “Dead men don’t sign shipping manifests for illegal nuclear material a month ago,” Lucian growled. “He’s been alive this whole time, operating from the shadows.”

Now he's gone, murdered horrifically for selling to my husband. Sleep won't come. It's the middle of the night, a little past ten. My purple bed doesn't seem funny anymore now that the reality of my situation's become clear. Dead bodies, headless corpses, murdered businessmen. Corgan wasn't exactly a saint, but he also didn't deserve to get mutilated. "You can't sleep." Gregory's voice drifts in from his side of the bed. I try not to look at him. I swear, he must hear my heart racing. "It was a stressful day."

"Winnie sent Diego to kill us. Can she be put in prison for this?" "Diego was a professional assassin who entered the country illegally, and he's dead now. There's no evidence to use against her," Greg said flatly. Heather's brow furrowed in shock. "He was a key witness. Why did you have to kill him?" Greg had fired the two shots that ended Diego's life. His displeasure was palpable as he blurted, "Are you blaming me?" His intense gaze unsettled Heather. With Diego dead, there was little left to discuss.

"The death certificate is a forgery, right? She can't be dead!" Vincent sighed and shook his head, pushing a file folder across the table. "Sir, I'm deeply sorry. It's all true." On top of the stack was a piece of paper, the words stark and official, stamped with a seal: Serafine. Date of death, five years ago, March 17th. Cause of death, hemorrhagic shock. That date was like a dagger piercing directly into my memory. Lucien's hand recoiled as if burned the moment it touched the paper. But he quickly grabbed the documents again, his fingers trembling violently.

This incident drove Morissa crazy, and she smashed his head with her own bare hands. Yegor broke ties with us, claiming that his brother's life was more precious and that it was absolutely okay to molest a low-key assistant. Thankfully, our father was a man of justice. He supported Morissa's actions and banished Yegor from Russian territory. Later that day, we got the news that Yegor had been shot dead. It relieved my father, as he knew that Mafia Wolves were always so vengeful. Yegor was probably around thirty years old now and had a short beard. It was really hard to recognize him at a single glance. His lips pulled up into a smirk, teasing his words out,

"Still the same, alpha. He says he has no appetite." Gregor dropped what he was doing and let out a sigh. After the extermination, Hector came to him to report what happened. He was amazed and shocked to learn about the arrival of the luminary and its striking resemblance to Shamia. He was also surprised to learn from his son that Shamia was dead. He understood Andrick's grief, but it doesn't mean he should neglect himself and his duties as an alpha. After the servant left, Gregor called his hired investigator to have Amarra investigated. After the conversation, a cunning glint appeared in his eyes, the corner of his lip curled up.

When my eyes meet him, he nods in understanding and sticks his hands in his pocket. “How did Gregor die?” he asks, looking at the ground, and everyone freezes. “He died protecting Hans,” I tell them. But they all already knew it. Gregor was the best protector to Hans and Cora, and the only way he would ever go out was if he knew they would survive. He loved the shit out of those two and he sure as hell loved the Freakshow. Billy sniffles and clears his throat. Then looking me right in the eyes. “So we are going on safari then?” he asks with a ghost of a smile.