Infamous Cole Macgrath Novels & Stories

Mike Freeway wasn't the only man in Coal City with a nose for fast money. Joe Collins—just as well recognized in the back room's smoky atmosphere as J. Cole—had a gift for smelling opportunity where other men smelled gunpowder. Tall, dark, and patient, Cole lived on very little. His greasy black hair clung to his skull, his pencil-line moustache curled into a snarl, and his chin, shadowed blue from the previous night's shaving, was rarely tobacco-stained.

"Well then. I suppose we should eat before the food gets cold." I follow him into the dining room, my eyes catching on the framed newspaper clipping hanging above his mantle about his ex-rival. 'Ex-NHL Player Dean Hunter Found Dead with Family - Deemed Suicide after Career Collapse' Most people would find it creepy. I find it honest. Cole keeps his ‘trophies’ where everyone can see them. "Give it to me," I say, taking the seat closest to him. It's not really a request. He might be a legend—hundreds of awards, media darling, the whole fucking package—but underneath all that perfection, Cole's as sick as I am. That's why we work. Two monsters who don't have to pretend with each other.

The detail is gorgeous and intricate. What I've learned is that Cole's father's family is Scottish, and this is the Mathews family coat of arms. Under the shield is his dad's name, written in beautiful script, along with the dates of his birth and death. He inked it onto his skin when he turned eighteen in memory of his father who was killed a decade ago by a drunk driver. "I love the way you touch me," he growls. "Not half as much as I love touching you," I whisper against his warm flesh. I could do this all night long and never grow tired of it.

The headline at the bottom of the screen screamed: MAYOR COLE’S MAFIA TIES? The reporter’s voice was sharp. “...and in a shocking turn of events, Mayor Cole admitted to the existence of an organized crime group in our city, led by a man named Victor Blackwood. When pressed on the current status of this ‘Victor’, the Mayor would only say that he had been ‘taken care of’...” I stared at the screen. And then, I chuckled. It was a dry, hollow sound. Jack Cole. The great and powerful Mayor. He was so desperate, so backed into a corner, that he had thrown my name to the wolves. He had told the whole world that I existed, and he had hinted that I was dead. It was a stupid, reckless move.

Marco's pov I'm Cole Marco Carnell, 24-year-old. I'm a lawyer. I take over the administration of my dad's affair after his death, which I'm not sure about. I took the leadership of his Mafia. I searched for him and my lost brother because it was the last thing he asked me to do for him. literally I don't give a fuck about his long lost son. " Ohh this kid again?" I groaned on the phone

Who in the world had that kind of power? Over in the east side of Mareno City, nestled in the sprawling Cole family compound, Derrick Cole, the old man of the house, lounged on his sofa, leisurely enjoying his coffee. Thump! Thump! Thump! Footsteps echoed, and soon after, Wagner Cole, the head honcho of the Cole family, burst into the room. "Dad, we've got trouble!" Wagner blurted out as he closed in. "What's got you all worked up?" Derrick asked, casually sipping his tea.

"My major general token is missing. They must’ve stolen my token!" Grand Old Master Yorks stared at Cole with an exasperated look and said, "A major general token of Doomsday Organization is such an important object and you’re telling me you lost it? Why didn't you lose yourself? No wonder they got on Mount Pearl so easily. It turns out that you were of great help to them. You’ll be punished when we get back." Cole had a pattern of doing things first and seeking forgiveness after. In his words, ‘I’m the only child of Spencer Yorks. He would never kill me. That’s why I can afford to be arrogant.’

“It has to be Cole.” A weird warmth bloomed in my chest. “You think?” I asked in a low voice. “Skylar,” she said, raising a brow, “do you remember the Marcus Langford Incident? Remember how Cole made Paul’s father go bankrupt in less than 24 hours after he messed with him?” I stared at her. “I’m telling you,” she went on, “this is his style. Discreet but ruthless. The scandal didn’t just vanish. It was removed—wiped out.”

No, the issue was that MC members were notoriously suspicious and they seemed to have built-in radars when it came to sniffing out cops, snitches, fakes, and anyone else who wasn’t what they claimed to be. A guy exactly like Griff, in other words. “Caitlin?” The man was down the steps and crossing the yard, flicking his cigarette into a snowbank as he stalked. “Where’s your car? Did you have an accident in the blizzard?” “Cole,” she said, and Griff didn’t miss the relief in her voice. “No. No accident.” “So who’s this guy?” Cole snapped. He was closer now and when Claire lifted her face a bit, he saw the bruising and swelling and he stopped dead in his tracks. “What the fuck… what happened?

"Why didn't you have him committed to a mental institution?" "I was thirteen when my mother and three brothers were killed…." Cole said. Xavier paused and turned around to meet his gaze. Cole shrugged, noting the change in the other guy’s demeanor. " Some bad guys wanted my grandfather's land and decided to take it. They killed my mother and three brothers. I and Alexander narrowly escaped—Or perhaps I should say, I narrowly escaped. Because I lost an entire family that day - including Alexander. He went crazy. He never got over it."