Petit Family Killers Novels & Stories

He had never seen anyone dare to fight his father so directly growing up. However, Elijah's reference to "Mr. Pascal" made Etiennette realize that the middle-aged man who entered, clearly living a luxurious life, was likely from her mother's family. "From now on, everything you see is just a dream, not the reality. If you don't understand what I mean, I'll make you understand by sending you to the underworld," said Erwen, looking at the Harringtons and the Four Seasons. He had decided to kill Archibald and Logan and let the others live. After all, the Harringtons were the top family in Little Xeottect, and it would pose some difficulties for the Pascals to cover up if he did kill them.

But this time Max is the one who gives him a punch in his nose making him faint instantly. He just turns and looks at Pete he said. “Speak or you are next.” “I am Petro Manganiello, Michelle Manganiello's son. That jerk killed my mother and all his life prepared me to be a tool in his hands at the right moment, but all I wanted was a family, a place to call it home.” And he just looked at Grandpa Cruz.

"If you need anything—personnel files, policy documents, historical information—come find me. I've been here fifteen years. I know where all the bodies are buried. Metaphorically speaking." "I'll definitely take you up on that." After Sarah left, Isabella returned to her office to find a stack of files on her desk. A note from Catherine: *"Cases for the Moretti Fund. Start here. Let me know if you need anything. —C"* Isabella opened the first file. The Peterson family. Their electronics business had been acquired by Blackwell Industries eight years ago. The father—David Peterson—had committed suicide six months later. The family had been left with nothing.

Hugh and Pete went to the bathroom which gave Pete a chance to speak to Hugh alone. “There is something I need to talk to you about.” said Pete. “Oh?” said Hugh, his curiosity piqued. “I think there might be a problem with one of the massacre victim’s family members.” “Go on.” urged Hugh. “We heard a rumour that a Gordon Harris was asking for any information on the killer of Paul Harris. Paul Harris was the victim found at the bottom of the stairs in the warehouse.” Hugh nodded and Pete continued. “I did a bit of digging and I think that Gordon Harris is Paul’s brother. He was in prison in Glasgow at the time of the massacre, so I think it’s probable he wants revenge. Just thought I would wa

"Marshal, I've already checked it out!" Yoel responded after getting the car's engine started. "According to the characteristics of a killer you provided at the time, I asked the judge to track it down for half a year, and he finally found him in a neighboring country. The killer already spit everything out. The mastermind behind the murder of your adoptive father's family was the Austin family, the wealthiest family in Mendorra today, together with the Francis and Blake families."

Still, I wanted to hear the rest of it. “That enemy family wasn't strong,” Mom went on. “They had never threatened the Cartelli's business... but they had many children—small children. You see, Massimo Cartelli chose them for one purpose only: he wanted Nicolas to get his hands dirty. He wanted to know how far he would go, and if he was ready to kill innocent children just to marry his precious daughter.” I swallowed. “And… did he do it? Did he slaughter that entire family?”

Aside from a handful of bystanders, the victims were all heirs of the three major families. Marcus of the Ledger family, the third in line, was gone. Damyon of the Campbell family, the second son, was gone. Yasiel of the Saunders family, the eldest grandson, was gone. "They're gone, all of them!" In the pre-dawn stillness of Zabaleta's western cemetery, Andrew knelt, bloodied, before his sister's grave. In his hands, he clutched photos of Marcus and his accomplices, which he set aflame with a flick of his lighter, coughing up blood as the images turned to ash.

"Don't blame Connie, Mom. It's my fault. I have caused you so much trouble. I shouldn't have taken the coat from her…" Before she finished, Dad grabbed me and slammed me to the ground. He roared, "A cold-blooded thing like you doesn't deserve to live in this loving family!" I cried and begged him to stop. But the more I cried, the more he was convinced that I felt no remorse. His claws landed harder and harder. Mom and Nathan stood at a distance, their faces indifferent. It was as if I weren't part of the family, just a filthy rogue they didn't recognize.

I closed my eyes, letting the last shred of my attachment to family die. "Think whatever you want. But Mom, even if you kill yourself right now, I'm still telling everyone the truth about that matcha."

When she stopped me from calling emergency services, she kept insisting the child couldn't be saved. In the end, the one who couldn't be saved was her own son. She had killed him with her own hands. The police began reviewing surveillance footage. The kindergarten cameras were broken, but the main road camera outside was working. In the footage, Esther could be seen driving in at a moderate speed. She glanced at the playground. Suddenly, she spun the steering wheel and headed straight for a group of children. She didn't try to break. She drove right into them. The police also pulled up messages from her phone.