Helluva Boss Side Characters Novels & Stories

” He grabbed my hands and led me to the carnival shooting booths handing me the small arrows to arm at the water ball. He goes first, and with five arrows he misses like a toddler losing a game. That motivates me to aim, win and give him the puppy plushie. If I didn't know Machado was a feared Mafia Boss, I'd argue with anyone who told me —-- because right now, he is jumping with excitement like a kid getting a prize. His joy disarms me like a toy gun shooting real bullets. His tattoos peak from his knuckles and arm—- two rings on his fingers, the index and pinkie, probably making his family rank. Skulls and bullets inked on his knuckles.

why do I feel like I'm under control? “Boss, I’m not some pet you need to cage to feel safe. I’m a person, and I can decide for myself.” One corner of his lip curled up, as if he was fighting back a smile. “You’re free to decide… as long as it doesn’t put you in danger. That’s my line.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re too much, Boss, always right? I’m safe! Besides, I won’t agree to being turned into the pink princess of your condo, okay?”

The chat instantly filled with question marks: [Wait, what the hell? She left because Sia said that?] [Hold up... that's not the boss? No way.] I slowly slid down the wall and closed my eyes. That familiar feeling wrapped around me again. Cold. Slick. Something curled around my forearm, then slowly took shape—a silver-haired man. The chat instantly went nuclear: [OH MY GOD! Isn't that Sylar?! The number one boss?!] [HOW THE HELL DID HE CROSS INTO ANOTHER DUNGEON?!]

I stayed quiet, my fingers tapping nervously on my bag. When the car finally slowed and stopped in front of my apartment building, relief washed over me for half a second. I reached for the door handle. “Wait,” I said, frowning. “I never gave you the exact building number. How did you know to stop right here?” The driver turned around slowly in his seat. His thin lips stretched into a smirk that made my stomach tighten. His scarred face looked even more menacing under the dim streetlight coming through the window. “The boss says you need to make Ryder reveal his true form,” he said, his voice low and rough. “And that pretty little thing around your neck belongs to him.”

It had no sign whatsoever, revealing nothing about what was inside. I looked at Keanu. "What is this place?" "Come on," he said, already climbing out of the car and rounding to the other side to open my door. Inside, the facility was immediately imposing and intimidating. I spotted more than a few men and women in suits. "Boss," one of the men said. I thought he was referring to Keanu until he nodded and added, "Mr. Martell." It was more or less the same with the other suited people. All of them referred to Edwards as "Boss." Keanu must've seen the confusion on my face because he leaned down with his lips to my ear and whispered,

“I know it must be killing you.” I turned around and opened the little fireplace in the wall. “They say you can't feel more than one emotion at once,” I said, putting on the gloves. “One must surpass the other.” I picked up the glowing red rod from the furnace. “Hearing your screams bounce off the walls of this room would do just the trick.” I walked back to him, waving the rod in front of his face. He leaned back, his eyes widening in fear. “Look, I was hired,” he screamed. “That person you killed did most of the work. I don't even know what was inside the fucking video.”

His voice cracking, he said, "My wish… is for you to get your revenge—for all traitors to fall into the abyss!" His eyes were ablaze with determination, as he clearly believed that sucking up to the Final Boss was the key to his survival. Since the Boss died from torment, he would be set on revenge. The logic certainly checked out, but there was only silence. Seconds later, Morpheus spoke, his voice eerily calm. "You believe I need your blessing?" "What—" Julian was taken aback, even as black tendrils shot out of the ground and wrapped around him in a split second.

Father always seemed to do it without issue and then look me and his remaining three daughters in the eye as if he didn't do the most unforgivable act toward a human being. But I was supposed to be a ruthless crime boss, and killing is just a part of the game. Doesn't mean I like it, though. I know exhaustion reads deeply on my face. I put sunglasses on before leaving my room to hide the puffy, tired eyes that I could only put so much makeup on to hide it. I head straight for the fresh pot of coffee that has been made, but Leander stops me. He hands me a tumbler instead. He can't see me, but I'm eying him beneath the sunglasses. I bring the tumbler to my nose and open it enough to smell it.

Suddenly there was a big commotion in the hallway and I looked up to see what it was about. Suddenly, 20 men came in wearing tuxes carrying large bouquets of flowers. Each bouquet was the same. Pink roses and white lillies. They all formed a line surrounding my desk. I looked at them in confusion when they parted just enough for another man to step through. My boss. My Atlas. He had a single branch in his hands and placed it on my desk. A branch of cherry blossoms. Then suddenly, all the men started singing Happy Birthday. And soon everyone in the office joined in too. Atlas moved to stand behind me after the song was over and he bent down and kissed me on the cheek “Happy Birthday Calliope”

But look how far I got. I am a werewolf, the Luna of a Pack. And most importantly, my boss is a werewolf! THE END