Morte Falsa Novels & Stories

The crowd slowly started to disperse as Milo, the she-wolf, and I waited on stage, unsure of what to do in this situation. "CAN ONE OF YOU EXPLAIN TO ME WHAT IS GOING ON!?!" Former Alpha Gerald yelled as soon as the room emptied. Feeling the effects of his Alpha voice, I bared my neck to him; Milo being of Alpha blood and the true Alpha of the Pack, didn't feel the effects. "Isn't it obvious." Milo chuckled darkly, "The Goddess Selene has decided to play an awful joke on us. She's paired Godrick and me with the same she-wolf."

In them, Hank faked his demise, absconding with our fortune and dooming the company to bankruptcy. Elena and I endured collector torment. I succumbed to the abyss, ending it all, and Elena crossed paths with Hank, who was back from the dead. I'd assumed, despite ditching me, he'd spare his daughter some mercy. But no. He stood idle as Laura's goons dispatched her, not deigning a glance at her broken form. The visions looped for a fortnight until the fake-death date crystallized in my subconscious. Two months remained. I called my brother home, tasking him with a covert donation: 20 integrated incinerators to various crematoriums.

The hum of the music rising in her chest. For the first time in a long time, she didn’t feel like she was pretending to belong. She just… did. And somewhere inside her—under the layers of stolen memories and silent grief—Aurora felt the first bloom of something dangerous and sweet. Hope. Later on the night had settled heavy over Las Vegas by the time the final curtain dropped. The applause was long gone, replaced by the hush that followed every storm. Even La Rosa Muerta—usually humming with after-hours life—had fallen into a rare, deep silence. Somewhere in the building, a vacuum hummed softly. Distant laughter floated from the dancers’ lounge. But in Aurora’s small studio, the stillness fe

Burning in anger, she could kill Mort at any second. "Where did you find it?" Mort asked, referring to the pictures of their clones' corpses. He feels like what he did to the spy the Gordeux sent to them is coming back to him. He replaced the spy's real face with the face of their Consigliere to make it appear that they killed their Consigliere. Now, it's happening again but this time, it was their faces being cloned and there's so much more of it. Their enemy seems willing to sacrifice thousands of people just to cross him.

" The live had hit millions of views. Hundreds of comments ran up expressing total shock. "I bought the corpse from a morgue. I staged the crash. It was fake." She pointed a finger at Mateo. "I didn't die in that car, Mateo. I died the night I found my Elena died because of you couldn't wait to fuck my aunt. The woman who climbed out of that wreckage... she was someone else. She was a woman who would rather burn the world down than spend one more night in your bed."

But no longer untouchable. As dusk bled into night, Vittorio’s name finally surfaced in the fallout. Not as a casualty. As a ghost. A body had been found near the river that morning. Burned beyond recognition. Officially unidentified. Unofficially… dismissed. Too clean. Too convenient. I stared at the report, unease crawling up my spine. “He’s not dead,” I said. Matteo looked at me sharply. “You’re sure?” “Yes.” “Why fake it?”

The sharp sound of my hand connecting with her face rang through the microphone, echoing across the hall. The entire audience froze in shock. Even the live chat went silent for a moment. Madison screamed in pain as she fell to the floor again. I rubbed my sore wrist and looked down at her coldly. "Who do you think you are, calling him Grandpa? I'm his true successor. I don't need an imposter like you to help me plead with him. "You've been impersonating me for so long that you actually believe your own lies? You're nothing but a heartless, opportunistic illegitimate daughter, trying to take what isn't yours. What gives you the right to shout at me like this?"

she pulls my head back up "I'm-I'm not sad," I tell her surprised by my mind and feelings, "At all," I add "Well you never actually feel pain," she says "That's a condition, Mika. I feel emotional pain, or I was supposed to," My eyebrows furrow, "I saw him," I whispered "You saw him? Saw who?" She asks "Ha-Death I mean," I tell her turning to face her "You saw him?" She questioned as shock crossed her face, "I knew you were special," she whispers