Romans & histoires Nameless Mc

“Give us a name.” Michael remained silent until Matteo increased the pressure, and Michael cried out. “I don’t know!” he blurted. “He contacted me anonymously using a burner phone with a self-destructing message. I have no idea who he is!” Mattero narrowed his eyes, taking a step forward. “What is this, some kind of Mission Impossible bullshit?” “I-I’m telling the truth! He goes by the Puppet Master. That’s all I know!” I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. “What did you just say?”

Ash pulls his shoulders back, and for one breath he looks less like a seven-year-old and more like the small soldier she's raised him to be, which guts her every single time she sees it happen. "What if they ask my name and I forget the fake one?" Sage's fingers worry the seam of her sleeve, picking at a loose thread until it starts to unravel. "You won't forget." Wren reaches back without looking and finds her daughter's knee, gives it one firm squeeze. "You're Sage Warden. Say it until it feels boring." "Sage Warden." A beat. "Sage Warden. That's a dumb name." "It's the name that keeps you breathing," Wren says, and something in her tone finally lands, because Sage stops arguing and stares

Layla rolled her eyes once more. She had just confessed to her friends that she was held at knifepoint by a junkie weirdo and all they wanted to do was talk about her kissing a biker. "His name is Marrok," she admitted. "Marrok Kenneally." "Marrok Kenneally, what a strange name for a biker," said Amy trying to recall any bikers she'd ever heard of with that name. "What's his club name?" "The Howler M.C. I think," replied Layla thinking back to Brick and his impressive patches.

His identity had always been well protected because he did not like being the center of attention and he did not like his private life being disturbed. This had always been a habit passed down in the Mcintosh family. As the biggest shareholder and creator of the Cosmics Group, he had become invisible in the entertainment industry. In the Cosmics Group, he did not use his real name, but had always used a fake name instead. This name seemed to represent the supreme authority and prestige of the entertainment industry, Bio Mcintosh. This was his name for the outside world. Normally, he would not even attend important meetings or banquets.

His eyes looking evil. He taps on a microphone I didn’t even realize was in there. He clears his throat, “Finally! We thought you wouldn’t move anymore. After that great victory, it would be such a shame for you to give up. How many has it been folks? How many necks had Nameless torn up already?”

While Hell was peaceful, Leon’s residence was one of the most peaceful one with most of the servant being fired the day they step in, leaving only two servants. The first servant being the most loyal, Mephisto, the second one who always hid himself in the darkness, Nameless. He was called Nameless as he was born without the ability to speak, rendering him to have no ability to utter his own name. When he first stepped into the mansion to serve Leon, he was asked what his name was and to this he only wrote: “Nameless.”

Amused in a way that had no business being in this room. I knew him. Everyone on this side of the Rockies knew him. “Killian Cross,” I said flatly. “Alpha of the Northline Brotherhood.” The most feared independent MC in five territories. The man who’d taken down the Deadwood Cartel from the inside without losing a single one of his own. His name got used to end arguments. What the hell was he doing in Iron Hollow’s cell? The corner of his mouth lifted. “You remember.” “I remember every threat I’ve ever met.”

Was it just me or someone else around because Lannister and Maya weren’t in sight? Not until it dawned on me. He referred to Nameless, the Mariner that hovered around Maya once. “To hell, who the fuck does this creature think he is?” I whispered at the fact that one of them was present in this clan too. They were quite popular in other clans but no one paid attention to them. The fanatics. From how this one spoke, it seemed he was a religious fanatic. One that would kill brutally, once something of theirs was desecrated. “I mean I’m ruthless personally, but I don’t hide it under the shell of a religion...”

I get signed in and clocked in just as Doc comes out of his office and goes into the lobby to ascertain which ones are needed to be seen first. “Embyrson, I need you to pull up tonight’s normal patients list and make a note of the names I call out to you.” Doc says over his shoulder as he stands over one man looking like he went a few rounds with a wall. I pull up the document and under the emergency note tab I jot down all the names Doc calls out. By the time he is down we have 10 men in the MC cuts and 5 of the suits. Doc walks back out a few minutes later after he has patched up 9 out the MC guys and tells me to make a new file for all the men seen tonight under the Zeta Neuri MC name. Wh

It seems only fitting since he is friends with Mateo, but I was still surprised. I told him it’s pretty, the crest. A mockingbird with its wings pointed upward; its body bent, ready to take flight. The tip of the mockingbird’s tail, wings, and beak peeked out of the broken golden circle as if it was trying to be free. The word Outlaws MC was written in cursive writing below the circle. There were three women in the crowd of bulky and hulking men. Sylvia greeted me with her warm smile and another girl named Des, who had a lip and nose ring. All her skin visible from the black shirt was dotted with ink.