Miles Morales Novel Novels & Stories

Silver wonders aloud, her brow furrowed confused. I chew on my lip, considering her question. “Maybe he was too afraid to share his true feelings with anyone else,” I suggest, a pang of empathy tugging at my heartstrings. Silver nods in understanding, her gaze fixed on the letters spread out before us. “Poor Miles,” she murmurs, her voice filled with sympathy. As we continue to sift through the letters, it's clear that he was wrestling with demons far deeper than any of us had ever realized. Together, we sifted through the letters, each one revealing a different side of Miles we never knew existed. As we read through his words, each one reveals a different facet of Miles's struggles with ide

Xavier asked. "It's an outstation transfer. Her company has a branch there." Xavier jotted down the address, ended the call, and bought plane tickets to Fresnia. He flew for over ten hours before finally touching down in Lyondale. He couldn't read Fresnian, let alone the street names on the signboards. He used a translator app and asked around for directions until he finally found himself outside Serena's office building. He stood at the entrance and waited from afternoon until evening. When night fell and the street lights came to life, he finally spotted her leaving the building.

I can't afford to die in the hands of these murderers, he promised herself. The place smelled of blood, of fresh carcasses being burned, with traces of dew and moonflower. The smell was familiar to Milla's nose as it was not her first mission. She put the gun back in the holster. She is in a remote village in Mexico. It will take about fifteen hours on the dusty and unpaved road for a car that wants to go there. Walls twenty feet high enclosed the large community.

Vincent Through the clubhouse window, I watch Dolores's Chevelle pull into the lot. She races around to the passenger side and helps him get out of the car. Damn, what kind of man am I, jealous over a kid who got carved up like a rotisserie chicken because he got to spend time with Dolores. Miles's looking rough, but he's alive and moving, which is a step up from last night. My jaw clenches seeing him lean on her shoulder as they walk up.

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JAKE’s POV I woke up alone, my ass throbbing from Milo’s cock tearing into me last night. I groaned, sitting up, flashes of his rough hands and filthy mouth burning in my mind. My cheeks flushed as I buried my face in my hands. This was my fucked-up life now. The penthouse was quiet. No Milo. Probably didn’t sleep here—too personal for a psycho who saw me as his personal fucktoy. A sealed envelope on the desk caught my eye. I stumbled over, legs shaky from his pounding, and ripped it open.

—there were a few things I'd like to say to the asshole! Settling my butt more firmly onto the seat, I wrapped my arms around Rook's trim waist, and questioned, "What are we waiting on?" ~~ A few minutes later, Rook was maneuvering the bike through the streets, and I couldn't help but let Mother Nature soothe me. The wind blew silken caresses against my skin, whispering its love song within the fragrances it carried upon its breath, and I allowed myself to relax a little for the first time in a long time. The last four years had been rough, and I'd missed the few members of my old family I'd become close with, and I missed Dillon. I'd had no alternative though, but to realize there was no go

Cheryl I was in Mr. Han’s pretty lake, enjoying my day off. The sun was setting, painting the sky in soft pinks and oranges. The water around me shimmered with the fading light, warm against my skin. Then I heard footsteps approaching from around the bushes. My heart skipped, and I instinctively swam closer to the wooden bridge. “Oppa?” I called out. Miles emerged, looking utterly exhausted—his suit slightly rumpled, dark circles etched beneath his heavy-lidded eyes. He hadn't come home last night. They were working on something new, something that required all of his attention.

Alone. I took a deep breath and excused myself. They lived for each other ——they could do anything to protect one another. So I wasn’t worried about the outcome. Today was stressful enough. I’d handled the evidence needed to bring down the Morales family. His men were already in captivity, and all Morales’s messages were being intercepted and answered by my agents, keeping him calm. He believed everything was fine and had promised I'd get the drugs by tomorrow night. ******************************************************************************************** ~~Elena~~

“Oh good grief, Izabella, why didn’t you tell me this when your kids had to run away?” “I didn’t think I had to. Plus, I didn’t want it to get around that my kids are illegals now. Not that you would have told someone, but Dr. Miles might have. I started getting suspicious of him when you started telling me your troubles concerning your memories. But I didn’t think it was as bad as this. If you leave with the little one, and the wrong people find out, I can get deported back to South America. The cartel doesn’t forget. I won’t survive a week down there.”