Moriarty Novels & Stories

I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn't come out. "Hello? Eve? What happened?" She continued speaking, but I couldn't hear anything anymore. My phone slipped from my hand and hit the ground with a sharp crack. Slowly, I turned around and looked at the small body lying there. That blue hoodie was exactly the same one my son, Leo Spencer, had. Could it really be him? Step by step, I walked over and lifted the cloth covering the child's face. It was a mangled, bloodied mess. His features were unrecognizable.

Caitlin grabbed a chair and sat down adjacent to me, her bare thighs squashing down onto the seat as she folded her ankles and leaned back. She gestured with her hand to let me continue, almost impatiently and I cocked an eyebrow at her with a small smile. This woman… "If," I emphasised. "You're willing. Your target would be Lucas Trevino, software engineer and owner of Godfather nightclub." I paused for her reaction and she simply just nodded her head waiting for me to continue.

Lorena Athenarose Ganlasa, also known as Lory, is a talkative and clumsy woman who unexpectedly encounters a familiar yet mysterious man, Phoenix Eadmaer Koznetsov, an ex-military captain and the head of the Italian-Russian Mafia known as La Nera Bratva, one of the most feared crime syndicates. Phoenix is a close friend of Dark Smith and a notorious sniper. He is aloof, timid, and dangerous.

What's the matter of being straight forward if the Detective is already wearing that unfriendly frown on his forehead. "What do you mean gone?" Detective Won almost growled at him with his gritted teeth. "Jacob Morales, Tommy Madison, George Lee and Justine Adrian are fake names. They were never part of the authorities. The files that they passed to us were all fake even the seal. We contacted the Queensland police department and they confirmed that those four bastards aren't registered. Jacob Morales living in Australia is in Canberra and a 57 year old owner of a shoe store. The Justine Adrian in Australia lives here in Queensland but he's only a 7 year old grade school student. And there a

At this point, I need something big to distract me. Logan chuckles as he extends his tablet in my direction and hands it to me. “Meet Gorrin Morrison. Gorrin owns several luxury hotel chains across the country. However, he has a penchant for prostitutes and strippers. Unfortunately, it’s not just to have sex with them. I guess he’s a modern-day Jack the Ripper. He likes to pick them up, bring them home, and cut them up before eating their organs. It’s bloody and grotesque. The Confradia only knows about him because he was caught on tape with several of the women. Unfortunately, the tapes miraculously disappeared after he was taken in for questioning,” he mutters.

Her boss had warned her about her tardiness, and she had a feeling that today would be her last warning. She parked her car around the corner from the bar and combed her fingers through her unruly red hair. Satisfied, she raced inside. Morris looked up as she entered the bar and shook his head. He was a short Italian man with a bald spot no one dared to mention. He also had a penchant for being handsy with the waitresses. They knew he had ties to some very bad people, so they kept their distance and let him do as he pleased.

“You know, the Morfils and De Lucas had a solid relationship for years. It was good for both sides. Then Flint discovered how his mom was taken out, and everything went downhill.” “Loose lips sink ships.” Another clue falls into place. “And damn paper trails.” Terry’s lips brush against my earlobe, sending a wave of disgust through me. He’s such a clueless guy, thinking my shiver is excitement because he’s had too many women who had no choice but to say yes. “You like that?” he whispers. “Not even close. Your garlic and cologne combo isn’t doing it for me.” I slide the knife up my sleeve and decide to try a different tactic to break free. In one swift motion, I grab his shoulders and drive m

While he was tending to his wound to stop the bleeding, my phone rang. "Mario, I have Matt, we are leaving it up to you, do you think you can manage?" I asked. "Of course-a boss, leave it up to a-me!" he said, Mario was a scottish man who had been a criminologist cleaning crew for as long as I had known him, which was well over ten years, he had a strong accent that sometimes reminded me of the character from that videogame where they had to save the princess. I think his name was partially what convinced me that he sounded like him.

Smiling in relief of not looking like a mess, a hot one at least but you know, I ordered another drink when I felt a breath down my shoulder. "Valente is indeed lucky." He spoke moving to my right. The man must have been in his forties judging by his appearance and married from the ring on his hand. "Thank you..." I lingered over the word waiting for him to introduce himself. "Arthur." His british was thick and I guessed that he must be a high member of the mafia there in Britain to be invited to the ball. "Alexis." I took a sip of my drink. He smiled and ordered one for himself taking a sit beside me. Great, another middle-aged creep. And one that is in the Mafia.

Zara's voice came, dripping with inquisition, and at that moment, I knew I was matching towards an impending trouble, especially when I saw her diving into herself, trying to make sense of the name. I was still trying to prepare myself for the outcome of her pondering when Zara's words pierced into my struggle, "Yeah! It's him," she snapped and leaned closer to me. "I heard that man is a beast and that he suckers blood," she stated, her eyes bulging and narrowing as she spoke emphatically. Just when I had hoped she wouldn't know about him, it turned out that she didn't just know about him but also knew a little about who he was.