Miles Morales Cast Novels & Stories

It was Morris calling. "Bro, Mors?" I whispered and whirled halfway from Diego. "Damn, Enzo. That dimwit bastard of the De Luna clan. Is he there? Can you put us on a video call now? I want to see the bastard. That lunatic owes a million from me, you know." My brows furrowed as I looked at my screen. I faced Diego, and he shrugged his shoulder. I turned the call into a video call and saw Morris lying down, half-naked, in the line. It seemed like he was in a tattoo joint.

"Who?" "Harrison Morris."

“I will be calling her now.” Miles paused in surprise, unable to respond. Aiden stepped out again. “Mom, just let me--” “Your mother, Miles!” she shouted again, and finally, Aiden gave up. Miles slowly found his feet, beaten and bloodied and wobbly on his knees. He took the phone, typed in his mother’s number, and handed it back. Ms. Morales immediately held it to her ear, arms crossed. They waited in severed silence for a long time, listening to the muffled ring of Ms. Morales cellphone. Miles’s mother answered, and for just a minute, Ms. Morales stepped out of the room.

Morales was safe. Inside the building, Mrs Morales was tied to a chair, exactly like in the photos. Her face was bruised—both eyes swollen now, blood dried on her split lip, her clothes torn and dirty. But she was alive but barely conscious. And when she saw Annie, her good eye went wide with horror. "Annie," Mrs Morales rasped, her voice rough from crying. "Annie, no. You shouldn't have come. You should have—" "Shut up," one of the men standing behind her snapped, and Annie saw him for the first time—Tommy.

he groaned. "Shhh! That’s just water, not oil. But I can pour oil next if you don’t tell me who ordered you to kill me," I warned him. "I don’t know what you’re talking about," he replied. "Wrong answer," Agent R said and poured oil on the lower part of the man's body. "I’ll ask again—who ordered you to kill me?" I repeated. I saw him flinch in pain, then finally speak. "D-Danica Morales. She ordered me to kill you so she could fully have Dave Mondragon Santiago to herself."

she laughed. “But I loved you, I did everything you wanted, I even fought my father for you…you were the lady with Allen in the club,” I cried. “How could you?” “I am sorry…” she said, her voice dripping in mockery. “I was ahead of you, did you think that you could dump me after giving you a son?” Allen moved the phone away. “Mike, I really wanted you to see me take over The Rodriguez's group, but Maria is just being a bitch right now…and you are not cooperating, I can't let you destroy all my years of efforts…Goodnight Mike,” he said cutting the call.

Melissa what are you doing in there, I heard the princess Luciana calling out to me and I immediately swam out of the room. "Am sorry my princess I'm just arranging the room" I said to her and she rolled her eyes sitting down and ordering me to fix her hair. My name is Melissa and I'm a blued tail mermaid slave. I work in the palace as the princess Luciana's maid. I was taken in as a palace slave when my mother committed a crime. She fell in love with a human and got pregnant for the human an act which is a crime in Atlantica.

When she finally cleaned up and locked the center, she sat in her car with the phone in her hand. Press one. That's all it would take. One button, and she would hear his voice. Elena's thumb hovered over the number. Then her phone rang. Her actual phone, the one that was held together with a cracked screen protector and prayers. She didn't recognize the number, but she answered anyway. "Elena Moretti?" "Yes?" "This is Detective Morrison, Chicago PD. I'm calling about the Miguel Torres case. We've identified the individuals responsible for the assault, and we need you to come down to the station tomorrow morning to review some evidence."

I talked about Jason's violence without sugar-coating or minimising. The casting process was surreal. Watching actors audition to play us. A man in his thirties is reading Four's lines about meeting me for the first time. A woman my age performing my escape from Jason. It felt like watching our lives reflected in a funhouse mirror, recognisable but distorted. They cast a relative unknown to play Four. An actor named Marcus Cole who had Four's intensity and the ability to show vulnerability underneath hardness. The actress playing me was someone I recognised from smaller roles, Emma Santos, who understood how to portray strength and fragility simultaneously.

Obviously it was a decoy, their real arms would be on their ankle strap. My head flicked up at the block of muscles subtly threatening my life on my birthday. “If you don't leave now, I'll be forced to use violence.” Blue seemed to be in a bad mood. "Ariana Morales," I said sharply looking back at the taxi to make sure he was still there if this went south. “My name is Ariana Marcella Morales, I'm not dumb enough to play with my life right now.”