Louis James Moriarty Novels & Stories

He'd become the kind of man I was still trying to be. Watching him face Morrison's revenge with dignity while I'd spent my own legal troubles lashing out and blaming others... it highlighted uncomfortable truths about character. That evening, I reviewed the information my private investigator had compiled on Heron Lewis. Morrison's former intelligence operative had disappeared to Montreal, living under assumed name in apartment near Old Port. She had the evidence—recordings, documents, proof of Morrison's posthumous scheme. But she wasn't talking, wasn't cooperating, wasn't offering the information that could save Blake.

At this point, I need something big to distract me. Logan chuckles as he extends his tablet in my direction and hands it to me. “Meet Gorrin Morrison. Gorrin owns several luxury hotel chains across the country. However, he has a penchant for prostitutes and strippers. Unfortunately, it’s not just to have sex with them. I guess he’s a modern-day Jack the Ripper. He likes to pick them up, bring them home, and cut them up before eating their organs. It’s bloody and grotesque. The Confradia only knows about him because he was caught on tape with several of the women. Unfortunately, the tapes miraculously disappeared after he was taken in for questioning,” he mutters.

A white shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, revealed the sharp clavicle of his neck, sleeves rolled to expose pale, snow-like skin. From afar, he exuded an air of noble aloofness, the lit cigarette adding a touch of earthly life to his otherwise painting-like appearance. Cline, with fingers with distinct knuckles, idly flicked the cigarette's ember. The flickering fire burned his skin, yet he seemed oblivious to the pain. Russell's cold voice echoed in his ears. "Mr. Moriarty, records show Dorothy isn't Miss Hammond. She's been in the UK all along." "The UK reports suggest Miss Hammond might be her lost sister."

Right now, he is trying to hide something. Damien couldn't help but to ponder what Alex just told him. He knew that for him to say something about Jasmine and the killings that had been happening, that means she knew something about that. Apart from what Alex even said about her, he had been noticing her late outings had become persistent and now, he is very suspicious of her. Someone that loves the midnight air wouldn't go out everyday at very late in the night to just 'enjoy the air'. Just because of the recent killings and Jasmine's persistent night outings, Damien realized that the pack was in chaos. Nothing seemed right anymore. Ariel was missing, families were dying, Jazmine was acting

He took a moment to stare at me. “I am not a sergeant and this is not police academy. In the Mafia, you learn on the job. You know that right?” He kept his gaze on my face while he spoke with his deep and ensnaring voice. The atmosphere around hinting of slight dread. “I know.” He left the bed, walking up to me, towering a height of 6ft over me, his thick muscles bulged and the scars on him, gave him a rugged appearance. The sort that shouldn't allure you but it did.

A fear of outcome and anger, a rage, everything that just spiraled about. The estate came into view. Moonstone Manor, they called it. Always polished. Always perfect. It was the way that I wanted it to be, strong, calculated and formed away from the disorder that was outside the world. It was always full of wolves who followed orders but rarely smiled. We had our duties and our missions. We were not here to mingle around. We were here for a reason and that was to survive, to stand and to maintain ourselves anyone outside did not matter. An outsider did not matter.

" She responded "furthermore I barged in and a female was fucking herself directly in front of him.Today was the most humiliating day of my whole existance on this planet." She moaned and scratched her head. "You've gotten yourself into a lot of trouble.Yes,we are, do you have any idea who the St Patricks are?! They are one of the world's most powerful brothers.James is one of the most powerful businessmen in the world, and you destroyed his automobile,therefore he wants you to pay him back. Tommy St Patrick,his older brother is not someone you should meet" Paz's pupils dilated .

For the first time in his life her was afraid, afraid of her opinion of him, afraid of if she would even like him, just afraid. Present Day. It had been two weeks since I graduated from university and moved back home with my parents and brothers. My father, Romero Ramos, is the leader of the Spanish/American Mafia until my eldest brother, Mateo Ramos, takes over next year. My mother, Maria Ramos, was born into the Mafia just like the rest of my family and lastly my second brother, Sebastian Ramos will be my Mateo's second in command for Mateo when he become leader. The there's me, Sofia, I have been involved in offical mafia business since I was sixteen years old, my job is mostly traning ne

"Thank you, I shall see to that immediately." Getting the body was easy, she had a friend, Max at the morgue who gave her all the details she needed. The body she found was that of a man called Morgan Daniel. He was a twenty-seven-year-old convict that was serving for drug lifting. He had just recently died that morning and there was no family to come to claim his body. She paid Max off for helping to drop off the body and sent him on his way. The psychic made him a cup of tea before he left.

“Kill you.” I can only sculpt. My hand squeezes the sheets under me. My lips and voice both trembled. “Then why am I still here?” Hugo pulled his body back, making me take a deep breath of relief. “That was before I knew who you were, Barbara,” he said slowly. “However, some time ago, I decided that having additional strength from a possessor of holy blood must have been interesting.” I want to know how to use my identity as a wolvire to beat up this man in front of me. Sadly, I still do not know.