Might Guy Death Novels & Stories

After the successful completion of a mission, Connor Weston, the youngest patrol division captain of the pack, had fallen into an eternal sleep on that rainy day. … After his death, my soul began to dissipate, like dew evaporating into the air under the morning sun. In my final glimpse, I saw Chris rush into the infirmary. He then fell to his knees and clutched Connor's hand, his shoulders trembling violently. Later, I saw Connor buried beside my grave. Our two tombstones stood close together, as they were always meant to be. I witnessed many pack members come to pay their respects, saying things like, "It was such a shame for a hero like him to die so young."

If he wants the baby dead, then what does Lilly have to do in the middle of all of this? "Who did this?" Liam asked the guy, but the young man was already slipping away, the liquid oozing down his shirt took a darker color. Liam shook him, "I said, who did this?" His voice bellowed in the hallway, slamming against the walls and returning back as an echo. "Who else do you think?" My voice didn't sound familiar to my own ears; Liam turned to me, his gaze drifting from the dead guy, "It's my dear father, who else would do something like this?"

And NOT when this happens in my town. “I tell you anything, then I’m as good as dead,” the guy mumbles, then spits blood. I laugh right out loud as Missile shakes his head. He was a good man to have as a back-up, or maybe I had him tag along to keep me from truly going off. “You seriously think what we’re going to do to you is better? You see that sick bastard over there? He knows how to skin you but keep you alive,” Missile warns, flicking his head at me.

she said, her voice sharp. I blinked, reading the banner rendering across the screen. JUSTIN GRAHAM FOUND DEAD IN COUNTY HOLDING CELL. My brain short-circuited. Dead? “He should have done jail time for plotting my brother’s death,” Megan hissed, her jaw tight with a vicious resentment as she tossed the phone onto the sheets. “Honestly... if he had just succeeded in killing that little bitch Flora, it would have been a significantly better win for the family.” I studied her expression. “How did he die, Meg?”

"Now!" No one dared oppose him. The doctor arrived swiftly. After a brief examination, he shook his head. "Hypothermia. She passed about 60 to 72 hours ago." "That's impossible!" Carlo shouted. "I only kept her locked up for three days! How could she have died that early?" I couldn't stop myself from laughing. "Your beloved Benedetta did this. She gave you the final push and made my death possible," I wanted to tell him, but the words died on my lips.

"They couldn't be this dumb, right?" "Working with the mafia is a risky business indeed. It could be a deal gone bad. Or maybe they had a fight. The possibilities are endless..." Mikhail trailed. "His death was an accident," I repeated. That was the only way I could accept his death. I felt like I would combust if what they were implying was true. "It was a drunk truck driver," Dimitri broke his silence for the first time since we came into a different suite, his voice filled with dread and enlightenment. "The same way an attempt on your life was made."

"Doesn't that feel so good to say?" "You're never hearing it again." He laughed and the sound bounced around the empty cinema. We were the only ones in it, sitting in the middle row, screen playing in the dim light. "Is he dead?" I asked, trying to follow whatever I was watching. "About to be." I watched the girl drive a long rusted rod through his skull and tilted my head slightly. Then I looked at Maurice, who was smiling and completely engrossed. "That was her best kill ever," he said, pointing with his greasy fingers.

~ Vick~ When I heard someone calling my name, I didn't expect it to be Mr. GQ model himself. His intimidating figure stood by the door as he looked at me with those blue eyes that hid something more. "We need to talk," he said, his voice gruff and no-nonsense. I knew my brother had probably told him my situation. As I made my way toward him, I felt a mix of relief and trepidation. This man, Death, was known for his lethal skills and cold demeanor. At least that's what some of the guys told me when I asked.

Just shadow near the far wall, like the light refused to claim him. Coat Guy rushed on, trying to seize the conversation back. “You promised this would stay contained. No witnesses. No heat. Now one of my men is dead and Crowe’s talking about pulling out.” “Crowe doesn’t get to pull out,” Big Guy growled. “Not after what he’s seen.” My pulse jumped. What he’s seen. My mind threw images at me—burned beams, blood in snow, a body dragged out of sight. I hated that my brain could fill in blanks.

All he could think about was my injured figure. "I'm Theo. Liam's dead." His words left Mia completely stupefied. It took her ages before she finally managed to shriek, "What the hell are you saying? Are you telling me that I've been getting in bed with my mate's brother every night?" "That's right, and you did it knowingly, too!"