Live By Night Book Novels & Stories

If it were true, why would mom do it. Killed her husband and now trading her only child for power and fame. Dalton too is unbelievable. How could they? Chris and I have fallen victim of the greed of our parents I need to know what the drive contains, then Courtney and I would know what to do next. But who could have entered the library?

"This time, we’ll be the first to act. We won’t give them a chance." But in the darkness of the night, as their family slept peacefully, they had no idea that a more dangerous, complicated, and personal battle was about to begin.

--- Blackwood House – Second Night It had fallen outside, clouded grayed over to—the kind that stuck to windows and made the world in/out a water-supplied world, still, heavy, weightless in air. Lying down the corridor, business wear over slept-in bed wear, not paper thinking but the sketch in her book. That one she'd sold out. Cash letter and privilege, signed under charade. She'd seen it in two places the night before. Not to be surprised. That had been present.

Olivia murmured through her tears. "If I had to choose, I would rather go far away or die at your hands than to hurt you. I am too precious in my life—even more precious than my own life. I beg you, stay alive for me," Olivia murmured, closing her mouth and sobbing there without making a sound. Olivia took her book from the drawer on the bedside table; she wrote something there.

Her stomach twisted as her eyes landed on a black card and a folded note resting in the middle of the bed. Her pulse quickened. She reached for the note with trembling fingers, unfolding it to reveal a four-digit PIN scrawled at the top, followed by an elegant, almost clinical script: Compensation, as promised. Her breath hitched as her gaze shifted to the number beneath it. 2,500,000. She stared at it for a long moment before a startled squeal escaped her lips. She clamped a hand over her mouth, her heart hammering. She remembered. The man.

I would have preferred to be there but of course, I am never listened to, especially since about two years ago when I was told the faith of me inheriting my parents company relied on me getting married. Moving further into the room, I noticed a speech was being made by the organizer, something about the plans for the money that would be raised tonight, we both knew half of the money was going into paying for the loan they “allegedly” took for the last project their company participated in and that is why I won’t be donating until I strike a personal deal. Following the usual routine, I patted my breast pocket where the cheque for the occasion occupied and thought of the deal I’d try to strik

No daylight, no damn ventilation, just me, four walls, and the lingering scent of piss and betrayal. I wasn’t chained up like some criminal. No, they wanted me alive enough to bleed slowly. I clenched my jaw, as my thoughts drifted somewhere else with blood crusted at the corner of my mouth, the metallic taste making me growl. The only thing ringing in my head louder than the news broadcast was one word: Alessia and The White Book. That file was my damn insurance policy and my last resort to destroy everything that existed in the Mafia Family. A powerful ledger so vile, so goddamn explosive it would make the FBI piss their pants and make the Mafia run for cover.

I sank into the chair, ass still tender from Elliott’s relentless claiming, the ache a constant reminder of how far I’d fallen. "Yeah, I followed you." Lila set the mug down hard enough to slosh coffee over the rim. "Because you’ve been disappearing every night, coming home smelling like smoke and sweat, dodging questions. I thought you were dealing or something worse. Then I saw you on that stage, Luna. Twisting around that pole like you were born for it. And that guy with the gray eyes and the suit looked at you like he owned you." My stomach twisted. "It’s not what you think."

In the mafia’s mansion….. WAKE UP. IT IS NINE IN THE MORNING; screamed a robotic voice from the device placed on the nightstand. After receiving no command to stop, the device repeated the same phrase at a higher volume. But this time, a giant muscular hand landed on the device, switching it off. And that was it. A slight movement of hands putting the alarm off, and the mafia was wide awake. Giving a light stretch to his body on the bed, he moved the duvet off his body and was soon standing on the floor, stretching his knuckles, neck, and arms, cracking all the walls of laziness in his body.

" I stare at the side of his face for a moment. I am Frozen for a thought hits me. There is only one window in the library. ------------------------------------------- My fingers quietly sift through the pages of the old Kings' journal, Xiirian Adonis Prime, The 8th Night Wolf. The sound of the slight brushes of pages and my small breaths are drowned by the snores of the other slaves that are already fast asleep, against the silence of midnight. It is well into the night, but I cannot sleep. Not when Night Wolf's words seem to bleed through the pages. He lived a life crueler than I ever imagined. His grief. His loneliness. I thought it was parallel to mine but is far different. It is deeper