Miles Morales Uncle Novels & Stories

Aria running off with Angelo Marino, marrying him—getting manipulated by him and starting a rebellion to kick us out of the city? Yes, giving it a second thought—that would be awful. “I’m not worried about my future because I’m already an old man, and I’ve lived my life.” Uncle continued. “I know the Marinos despise us for the way your late father has treated them, so I’m worried for my nephews’ well-being.” His words came to me as a surprise as I had always made him out to be a Morales’ booty licker, hungry for power and acceptance—but it turned out even he had his limit.

"Wait! I need to be on this plane." One guy raises a brow. "And you are?" "Alexander Morales." I glance up the steps to see my uncle appear in the doorway, and acrid hate coils through my gut at the mere sight of him. "Let him on." The men stop removing the stairs and I bound up the steps two at a time, struggling to draw in enough oxygen. "Talk about cutting it fine," Uncle says, eyes narrowing. "I didn't think you were coming." I glare at him, knowing that despite how much I hate him for what he did to my mother, he's my only shot at getting to visit her grave. "I wasn't sure whether I was until the last minute."

Your country knows your name, or the whole world knows your name. I remember this one time when I was younger while we were living in Mexico, my uncle Jose had taken me to the park where he was called in for a job. Living the life of a Cartel member, you don’t say no. Sadly, my parents were both busy and there was no one he could take me to. So he took me with him, which was something he wasn’t proud of. Yet sadly, it was fascinating for me. He always brought Arel along for me to hang with, so I was happy he was there. When Arel's parents died my uncle took him in. We were always really close, even though we weren’t blood, we were family but that didn't stop the crush he developed along the

Miles looked up at Pedro with curious eyes, and he repeated in his small, sweet voice, “Uncle Pedro.” Pedro smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and he reached out to ruffle Miles's hair. “Hello, little one,” he said softly. “It is so nice to finally meet you.” I pointed at Liam next, and I said, “And this is your uncle Liam.” Miles turned to look at Liam, and he said obediently, “Uncle Liam.” Liam bent down and smiled at him, his warm brown eyes full of affection, and he said, “Hey there, champ. I have heard so much about you.”

“Who are you to lecture me, sir? You heard me. I told you that I’m sorry.” “Who am I?” He repeated and smirked at me. Yes, who the fuck are you? I saw him in the villa. Needless to say, he and David knew each other. Or maybe… he and that woman? I don’t know. “I’m Gavin Palma–David’s uncle.” My jaw left on the floor.

I replied. “I think it's time they start learning from you. You're an excellent salesman too,” he laughed. “Where are we headed sir?” I asked. “Horace is waiting for me—” “My son can keep waiting, Arturo,” he said. “The young bastard wears you out like I brought you for him. Your uncle promised me good things about you, and he just wants to keep you as an errand boy.” My uncle was a man in his cartel I had threatened the life of his wife and sweet sixteen daughter to get me here. When I was settled, I staged an accident, and his body turned up afloat in the canal.

we said in unison our voice spreading across the room as eyes shifted from the dead body lying on the floor to my Uncle and I. “Welcome home man” my brother said patting him on the shoulder. “We need to talk Marcella” uncle said to me sounding serious all of a sudden. I was about asking how he survived and escaped the Mexican mafia, but his tone alerted me there was a more serious issue at hand.

His gaze stayed locked on me, not with love, not even regret, but with the pure humiliation of a man watching his control disintegrate. I tilted my head slightly, a faint, taunting smile curving my lips. "Oh, did I strike a nerve?" I murmured, my tone soft but slicing. "Your uncle is everything, you'll never be stronger, more confident... and infinitely better at making me feel something down there." I say, gesturing between my legs just to piss him off. His jaw tensed. "Shut up." The words came through gritted teeth, each one tight with fury. "Don't talk about my uncle like that in that shameless way."

I was willing to deal with him for bringing up such a past, but just then, Caleb, his so-called foolish son, ran up towards him. “That's enough, Uncle Caspian.” He placed his hand on my chest as he pushed me away from his father. “You killed your own father, and here you are fighting mine? You wish to kill him too?” As he pointed his hand at me, speaking to me—his uncle—with disrespect, I didn't hesitate to teach him a tiny lesson. I swiftly got a strong but casual grip of his hand pointed at me. “I'm your uncle, Caleb… show some respect!” I bent it over, the pain excruciating as he wailed in pain.

“Like hell it’s not important. The bitch is married to Miles Scott.” Wait? What? That didn’t make any sense. The last I knew of my uncle he was confined to a wheelchair and was a single man. He had been that way since his girlfriend died in a car crash. “What are you on about, Samuel? I’m sure you’re confused. There is no way that you saw Miles. He rarely leaves New York,” I said, walking to the large window in my room that looks out at the Los Angeles skyline. “I would know the man who beat me to a fucking pulp,” he spat.