Gta Michael Trevor Novels & Stories

“It’s time we find out what really happened that night. Why did he do what he did, and why the hell did Michael let him walk away without a scratch?” There has to be a hell of a story behind all that secrecy from years ago. And let’s not forget that Tony, aka Trevor, used to be one of our top dogs and one of the best. If he’s here, it’s not because we caught him off-guard, but because he wants to be here. And I can’t wait to dig into what could possibly have driven him to return to Venice. Is it Lizzy he’s after, or is there something else entirely that brought him back?

He turned to the nearest SUV and opened his lips to reveal his teeth. Clean and nothing in between. Perfect. “Excuse me, buddy, but can I help?” the guy in the passenger seat asked in a Brooklyn accent. Trevor shot up straight and looked at the man. He was sitting in the car with the window rolled all the way down. “Um, no, just needed your mirror for a second,” he said. Then he shrugged and walked off. Fuck it. I’m on a mission. “Crazy mothafucka,” the guy said as Trevor walked away.

When Michael appeared at the villa with toys he had bought for Travis, the boy was crying on Christina’s shoulder. Tears streamed down like a waterfall as he sobbed. Michael bolted forward. “What’s the matter? Why is Travis crying?” Travis wiped his tears as he saw Michael. Then, he then ran to his bedroom to take his water blaster and aimed it at Michael. “You’re a bad guy. Leave. Momma and I don’t want to see you!”

insinuate that he was negligent. A piece of breaking news hit the headlines on the third day. It was a scandal about "Trevor," not about "Cedrick." In a video, Trevor and several burly tattooed men gathered together to take a kind of white powder in a hidden private room. The video was shot secretly, as it was not very clear. After Trevor left the mercenary group, he did not work in his family's company, but opened a private club. He also engaged in logistics, transportation, and fireworks.

"Liam, let it go. If Travis were any warmer, I'd suspect he'd been replaced." Michael grinned. "And here I thought you two would have some grand reunion." "There's nothing grand about it," Greta said with a small shrug. "Some things don't need theatrics." "That's rich coming from you," Mason said with a smirk. Greta's eyes glittered, but her smile stayed in place. "I save my theatrics for the camera only." "Mason. Still wearing shirts that look like they've been through two decades?" Greta said. Her gaze landed on Travis.

He noticed that the driver was quite big and he looked at the rearview mirror and he gasped in shock. Stone-cold Steve Austin in the flesh. Their eyes met and Stones frowned. "You?" "You? What are you doing here?" Michael asked. He put his hand to open the door but it was locked by Stones immediately. "Kynes will be so happy to see the fish I caught today," Stones grinned. Michael swallowed hard and touched his pocket. He felt something hard in his pocket and he grinned at Stones. "What?" Stones smirked at him. "Say cheese!" Michael brought out the taser and unleashed fifty thousand volts of electricity on the poor man's shoulder.

I stopped. Trevor stood just outside his door, black tee clinging to his chest, grey sweatpants slung low on his hips, specks of dried blue and green paint on his hands. A cigarette hung from the corner of his mouth, unlit. His hair was messier than usual, but his eyes were sharp. I turned slowly, trying not to groan. “Hey,” I said, voice scratchy. He tilted his head. His gaze lingered a moment too long. “You alright?”

“Are you sure that's all you are?” Silence. “Lily? Are you still there?” “Uh, yeah… I have to tell you something you may not like to hear.” “You are not breaking up with me, are you?” “No, it's about Trevor.” “What about Trevor?” he asked. “Did he do something. “He knows…” Just then, Trevir walked into the locker room. His eyes locked with mine. “I have to go, Mace. I’ll talk to you later.” “What? Wait!” Mason tried to stop me, but I hung before I could.

It just might be his lucky day. There was nothing like gaining Eli Michealson's favor. Everybody in Vegas wanted to earn a favor from The Ghost. Mac decided he would throw his own mother under the bus if Eli Michealson asked for her. "I'll even do it for free. For you, boss," Mac lied. "Say the name and I'll deliver the motherfucker to you myself." He beamed at Eli, revealing uneven, yellow teeth. "Corbett Havens." Mac Rattray looked confounded for a few minutes as he raked his brain for the name that sounded vaguely familiar to him. He finally shook his head in resignation. "Doesn't ring a bell, boss."

"My name is...is Michael." But as I look into his eyes, I notice something that doesn't quite add up. That seems to pique my curiosity. "What do you do for a living, Michael?" He hesitates, his eyes darting around the room. "I'm a mechanic, just a simple mechanic trying to make a living. Please, just let me go." He begs, but I am not moved by his plea, I have seen enough to believe just his words. "A mechanic, huh?" I repeat, my voice soft. "That's interesting, and you tampered with the trunk brake and watched till the end, how it crashed into that car, right?" I conclude.