Metro Man Cape Novels & Stories

Before Growl could realize what was happening, the bullet shot right into his forehead. No body bothered to speak, they were afraid to. The body fell to the floor with a loud thud, blood pulling under him. Eyes strayed, lips pursed. Mateo’s expression hardened. It was cold, unreadable. He cast his dark eyes over to the rest. “El Capo no te paga, yo sí. Por eso me obedeces.(El Capo doesn't pay you, i do. Hence you obey me.)" he said flatly.

Kayden stepped closer to the bars, but kept a small distance, like he knew he wasn’t welcome. “I told you I would.” The man slowly removed the cape from his head, and for the first time, I saw his face. Varius…

Making their response slow or practically non-existent. Dawn cracked through the city’s fog ridden skyline. The storm had passed, at least for the meantime, weather reports said that another one was due in three days. H-6 was parked at one of the spire platforms, imposing mile high megastructures that usually held low cost residential blocks for a Megacorp’s temp labor force, contracted employees or “assets” as they were termed legally could find residence in one of the Domes, if they had space. Manila Pacific-Capital held a population of some 50 million cramped into a city scape meant to hold 15 million. “You want any shrimp on that burrito Arbiter?” The stall owner asked, his clothes stain

I knew it was his doing. "You've got great legs, sweetheart. Did anyone ever say that to you?" He asked me, then his eyes strayed down and I followed the gaze. "Fuck, I am already getting hard just by thinking of them wrapped around my waist while I fuck you senseless." I turned down my lips in disgust. If you were to see him on a typical day, you'd consider him decent. He still wore the baseball cap, but I could see his face clearly. He was lean and muscular, a thin scar ran along his left cheekbone. I guessed it was why he had the cap on to cover it up and make him look less intimidating.

The Capo’s Calculus Lucien watched Brussels like a chessboard. From his mansion high above the river, the city’s lights were nothing more than moving pieces — ministers in black cabs, judges in late-night diners, businessmen slipping through private doors. He watched them not with the indulgence of a man satisfied, but with the patient hunger of someone risk and reward with each breath.

One of the men asked, “What made you bold enough to send messages like that to great men who do not have time and with busy schedules” “Trust me, this is worth it” the man replied with a smirk before standing to his feet, “I am Raymond Marcus, the rightful Capo of New York and I have come to take back my position” The room suddenly became quiet, everyone looked from one to another. He waited for them to speak, but no one did but spoke to themselves instead. So he spoke up, “I know all of you here. I know your hearts, and I know you all here hate Davis. I knew who I sent the messages to. You all can feel free”

Working here is definitely going to be interesting I thought. When I finally got home, it was around 5PM, and I had a pizza in one hand, white wine in the other and “Romance in metro haven” which was basically this show inspired by Metro Haven and about this group of friends who all had these budding careers but struggled at keeping relationships. It was amazing. When I finally sat my ass down and began to unwind, my home phone on the side tale next to me rang. It was Reed’s caller ID and just like that, all the emotions from the whole day came flying back again. I answered and said nothing.

I sighed and sat quietly on the side of the road in front of the mascot of a hardware store. It was a smiley beaver holding a sledgehammer in his hand. Chilling rain poured down from the sky. I couldn't stop but shiver like a sift. I told myself that I deserved this because I was such an idiot to believe someone like Justin Davidson. A sportscar stopped right in front of me. Windows rolled down and a middle-aged man's creepy fat bold head emerged. He blew a whistle at me and said, "Party too hard? Do you need a lift?"

He spun around, his chest heaving as he stared at me. "You know, you are incredibly lucky that everything in this city passes through my hands before it ever reaches Vincenzo," Adriano hissed, as he stepped closer. "So imagine my fucking surprise when the alerts hit my phone saying Raphael Capone completely lost his goddamn mind at some local gas station, beating people to a pulp and burning the entire place to the ground with them inside. I am the one who has to deploy the cleanup crews to scrub messy traces off the streets." He paused, his jaw clenching so hard a muscle twitched violently in his cheek, his dark eyes boring into mine.

"Speaking of which, I like the replacement. Much easier on the eyes than Hilda ever was." I almost smiled despite myself. "Stay professional, Mario." "I'm always professional. Doesn't mean I can't appreciate beauty when I see it." He chuckled. "Oh, and there's a new capo installment meeting tonight. You planning to attend?" "No." The answer was immediate. "Too risky to show my face with everything going on. I'll send a proxy." "Smart move. Things are getting messy enough without you painting a target on your back." I turned onto the highway, my mind already racing ahead to the evening's agenda. "Keep watching Ethan Miller. He's bound to mess up soon, and when he does..."