Miles Morales Uncle Novels & Stories

Halfway through, Dad leaned back in his chair and said, “So, Richard Hale recently died.” I paused, my fork halfway to my mouth. “I heard he owed a lot of money to Andrew,” Dad continued. Andrew. As in Andrew Stone. My uncle. The man with zero heart and zero patience. If you owed him money, you were basically screwed. “So, the Hales owe Uncle Andrew?” I asked, trying and failing to hide my smirk. “Yeah. Why do you ask?” Mom eyed me suspiciously. “Just curious.” But inside? Oh, I was buzzing.

my uncle admitted with a shrug. I dropped my pastrami. “You knew there was a mole?” I asked him, my eyes wide. “Of course, Sobrino,” he told me and took a bite of his pickle. “I thought it was you because of how distracted and absent you’ve been lately, but your father just told me about the work you’ve been doing against the Taddeo Family. I’m proud of you.” His words made me grin. They were the exact words I needed to hear from my father, but coming from my uncle, they meant just as much.

After I Took Three Bullets For Him, He Said He Was Just My Uncle I took three bullets for Don Lorenzo Moretti, the man I called my uncle. The last one nearly killed me. Only then did the family elders agree to name me Donna. But in the two weeks I lay unconscious, Lorenzo announced his engagement to Ava, the daughter of a family benefactor. The Rocci, my family, lost its power when I was ten. Ever since Lorenzo, a close friend of my father's, brought me to the Moretti estate, I was certain he would one day be my husband, despite our age gap. He always told me to find men my own age, but I just let it go. In my previous life, I crashed their engagement party, a decision that led to a

a deep, smooth voice said. I turned. And time stopped. He walked in like he owned the world and judging by the suit, the watch, and the air of calculated menace, maybe he did. He was tall, broad shouldered with dark raven hair and a razor-cut jaw and eyes that looked cold as ice He looked at me like I was dirt under his shoe. “Who…” I started. “This is Mr. Xavier Rodriguez,” Hartwell interrupted. “Your father’s best friend. His appointed heir and your legal guardian until you turn twenty-one.”

Still, the asshole acted like he didn't hear me. “I need to tell you something. I swear you would want to hear this,” he said urgently, “It’s about my uncle.” When he mentioned his uncle, my eyes turned sharp. Nah. I wouldn't fall for the same trap again. “If this is one of your ways to ruin us again then you’re not going to fool any of us anymore—” I uttered using my unbothered tone but then he cut me off. “He has a son.” Hearing that statement of him made my world seem to stop for a moment.

“There’s one name I’m considering.” Cole gives him a look—sharp, telling him to shut up. Miles ignores it. “Richard.” My head jerks up so fast it hurts. “Richard? My uncle?” “He’s the only one reckless enough to take your mother. And he has motive. Old motive. Deep motive.” I blink hard, trying to make sense of it. “He wouldn’t—he wouldn’t hurt my mother. He barely spoke to her.” “Exactly,” Miles says. “He barely spoke to anyone. He stayed quiet. Watching. Planning. Waiting for your father’s seat at the table.”

Spike and Star’s cute barks calmed him as he kissed them both, clutching them to his chest. Then he continued. “My chaotic family was the reason I never wished to introduce you to them. They are cold-hearted, self-absorbed, and power-hungry people, following the stupid traditions that only favor them. And my uncle is the biggest moron, a vampire who has stopped eating to maximize his powers.” His eyes burned with rage as he growled. “Grandpa’s response made it clear that Uncle had spread the news of your divorce in our community. Gosh, I want to kill him!”

I received long hugs and reassuring words from every single one of them. Uncle Moretti’s wife even cried. They all smell like old money and generational wealth. The kind that never runs out. Oh, and I have a famous uncle. Morris Machiavelli, the CEO of Morris Motors. There are billboards of his luxurious car company all over New York City. I’m pretty sure the Montessori’s have mentioned him once or twice. All my life, I’ve felt lonely and rejected and useless, but two hours in the company of people who truly love me changed all of that.

I brought the phone to my ear to answer, while parking the car in front of a Mall. “Melissa White," The gruff voice said from his end. My heart skipped a beat. It was my Uncle. He never really liked me. I could vividly remember the day when my father was rushed to the hospital after I had coerced him to take that drink with an overdose of his meds.

“I can’t hear anymore.” I looked at my Uncle. “Uncle Dale, you are a kidnapper, murderer, and abuser. You did everything out of jealousy and revenge for something that was out of the control of my mother and father. You disgust me. When you leave here, you are dead to me. Since Jules and Rachel knew who you really were and they did nothing to help me, they are dead to me too.” I rose from my chair and looked at Elias, “Is there anything you need to ask?”