Infamous Cole Macgrath Novels & Stories

In my experience, a man who appears to want nothing in a room full of men who want everything is the most dangerous person there. I had asked Marcus about him afterward. Marcus had told me his name was Cole Mercer. Former Nightfang Pack enforcer. Expelled two years before the summit under circumstances that nobody was willing to discuss openly. He had been operating as an independent contractor in rogue territory ever since, taking jobs that established packs preferred not to put their own names on. A man like that didn't show up at your border for personal reasons. He showed up because someone was paying him to. "Is he in custody?" I asked, my voice completely quiet.

Maxim was still in the running. And Zara Cole—intern, outsider, unwanted—had just become a legend in the arena of blood and bone.

Alexander stared frozen at the content. With wide eyes, he read the headline. "The famous CEO of spelldrink Mac's was involved in cocaine exporting." His lips fell open at once, sweat dripped off his forehead. It hit him repeatedly. With dampened hands, he clicked on the video underneath. As he watched, more sweat popped out his head. He blink rapidly and at once, resorted to a growl. That motherfucker! It was his payback? Collins was playing with him.

"He's drunk, Mac. Let it go." "All's good. She's okay." At this point, a zillion sets of eyes turned my way then quickly went back to holding-I looked up-blinked twice-swallowed, and watched as the god of football glanced down at me. Killian MacGregor, The Mac, or Mac the Knife, as fans called him because of his throwing arm, was my savior.

Callum had his hand on the small of my back, steady and firm, while Kieran lit a cigarette, eyes scanning the street like a damn mob boss. I breathed in the cool night air, trying to ground myself. Everything felt too fast, too wild, too...A hand shot out of the alley beside the building. “Ellie!” Before I could blink, I was yanked backward by my arm. My heel snapped, pain shooting through my ankle as I stumbled into the shadows. “You fucking bitch,” Cole snarled, his breath hot and rancid with booze. “You think you can ruin my fucking life and walk away with them?” My heart froze. But only for a second. Because then? Then the MacAllisters moved. Faster than I could scream.

Rashid walked around to stand behind him, his piercing black eyes digging holes in his back in suspicion. "Cole, what were you doing when Mrs. MacIntyre went missing from the mall?" He asked and Hunter's face became more serious. He knew where this was going. "In my studio... Sculpting a commissioned project." Cole answered before Hunter intervened. "What about the time when we went to the factory in search of Mr. MacIntyre? You were there at the cemetery and then you suddenly vanished. And before that when we were searching for Mr. MacIntyre, you were messaging someone but when I asked who... You said it's no one."

Lucas faintly said as he looked at Cole. Cole paused momentarily, shocked as he looked at Lucas. He wondered if he had misheard him. 'This ordinary person dares comment that I said too much?' "Hey brat, do you know who am I?" Cole fixed his stare on Lucas and said coldly. "Oh? Who might you be?" Lucas let out a smile. "I'm Cole Morgan, one of the three geniuses of Anchorage college. My dad's a core member of the council of Anchorage Base City and is also one of the ten powerhouses of Anchorage Base City."

he repeats, tone low and measured, “must live in a very exclusive part of town if he can find Marco’s private studio.” Cole straightens, their eyes locking , two predators in the same cage. “I’ve heard of you,” he says easily, the smile in his voice edged with something sharper. “Hard not to. The famous Dante Morelli. Billionaire. Business mogul. Mafia prince.” He tilts his head slightly. “Quite the résumé.” Dante’s jaw flexes. “And you are?” “Someone who knows how to find people,” Cole replies, voice calm but deliberate. “And how to protect them.” His eyes flicker to Amara briefly, a taunt wrapped in concern.

“That’s usually when people get in trouble.” Eli gave a small, humorless smile. “You sound like Damian.” Cole snorted. “Then maybe I’m doing my job right.” He paused, studying Eli’s face. “He told me about the message.” Eli nodded. “Carter Vale. You know him?” “By reputation,” Cole said grimly. “Used to be a handler before he went off-grid. Smart. Cold. Always six steps ahead.” Eli’s pulse quickened. “Then why come back now?”