Scarface Novels & Stories

He deserved to be free. Movement in the corner of the room drew her attention away from the man who haunted her thoughts day and night. Fear made her heart race as a technician entered the room. Jacob Alter had to be one of the most callous, unfeeling monsters who worked for Mercile Industries. The asshole actually enjoyed inflicting pain on the test subjects. He especially targeted this one with his brand of cruelty. A month before, the big man chained against the wall had broken Jacob’s nose when Jacob had gotten too close to the elbow of the restrained test subject. Ellie knew it had been well deserved. The bruising still shadowed Jacob’s face as he flashed an evil grin toward his intende

Most of our pack has shifted and stand on high alert growling and snarling at the 20 rogues, but the one in the middle, the one holding my pup, I know is my beloved grandfather, Vincent DeLuca. Ceasar continued to growl as he slowly stalked forward. The scarecrow held Abi's back to his chest with one arm and a knife to her throat with the other as he stood surrounded by now rogue wolves. I was beside Gabe and whispered, "can you get a clean shot at his head?"

, Anna heard a voice saying and she wondered who it was coming from. She heard a switch somewhere and the room was lit and she Gould see the faces. She did not need to be told who Scarface was as she could see it on his face. The scar on his face ran from his forehead down to his neck and she wondered who had left such a nasty mark. The rest of his face wasn't in good shape either. He had burns on his skin as if he had been in a fire. It was an ugly mess. His mouth was twisted to the side. She couldn't even bare looking at him, he sure looked scary.

The man stood silently staring at him and then he lowered his gun slowly. He finally looked up and revealed the part of his face that had been hiding by the hat, a large scar was visible on his face, right beside his right eye and went down to his cheek. Of course, that was why he was popularly known as Scarface; that was his nickname. It would have been Deadshot if not for the scar, given that he never missed his shot. He had gotten that scar from his father as a kid, they say wound heals but scars never go away. They become a part of you forever, a memory that would live with you for as long as you exist.

He stopped and looked at the young woman in front of him, wondering where and when he had met her, " do I know you?" The moment he asked that question, the smile on her face disappeared, a scowl formed on her pretty face, " don't mess with me lover boy, iam barbie, the girl you took home one night in Las Vegas, have you forgotten me? I have missed you so much" she said, her hand reaching out to touch him. Alex sigh, he could not even remember even the tiniest details about the young lady standing infront of him, he believed what happened in Las Vegas, stays in Las Vegas.

They all fell on their knees without a word. Scoffing, he dipped his palms into his pant pockets. “Scar!” A man dressed in complete black stepped forward from behind, “Yes Boss.” “Lock them up. Make sure none get even a drop of water until my son is found.” “Yes Boss.” Scar turned his gaze to the six kneeling men and immediately, they got on their feet and followed him without a struggle. Lauren carefully parked the bike in its designated corner with a sigh. She was done with her last job for the day—home delivery.

I easily threw the trench coat over my shoulders the same way that Octavious does. The trench coat on him, reached above his ankle, just inches from the floor but on me it reached on the floor and dragged a little bit. I felt myself completely transform as I looked at myself in the mirror with the hat and trench coat. I acted like I was stroking a beard and placed my other hand on the edge of trench coat, "my name is Vladimir and I kill," I tried my best Russian accent but it sucked.

A sound came from the hallway and everyone turn to see Ambrose walking to the table shirtless with intricate tribal tattoos carved smoothly on his hard biceps and sculpted chest. A picture of a tiger roaring and bending its body to attack travels to his tight six pack with foreign letters written on his left torso. His brushed his hair and sat next to Ariadne who frowned at him. "Well, I would love to say a very good morning to you but you just ruin it." A young maid came in and place a plate of steaks with a huge dollops of mashed potatoes with creamy golden gravy flows delicately on the plate followed by a handful of fresh vegetable which took a small part of his plate.

“Let me introduce myself again, Mr. Saavedra. I am Fred Delos Santos, son of the former Magsaysay Counselor Wilfredo Delos Santos.” Almost immediately, his eyes briefly widened. Miguel was surprised. He couldn't recognize him at all. The male in front became taller and bigger the last time he saw him. Far from what he looked like during his college days. He estimated that Fred was at least two inches taller than him. His skin got lighter due to America's cold climate. His mood dampened. “What do you want, Mr. Delos Santos?” “I came here to say that you are an asshole,” he answered.

POV: ELI Godric had told him once, on his deathbed: I've done godawful things. My only regret is that I won't live long enough to pay for all of them. Eli had not understood it then. He understood it now. He spread the three pages across the kitchen table and read the provenance of the Scarface chip from the beginning. Johnny Torrio, Chicago, 1939. Al Capone's mentor. Held the chip until he died in a barber's chair of cardiac arrest.