Novelas y relatos de Sicario

And the most cataclysmic thing was, I was not afraid of having witness Madeline's murder. Yes it left an impact on me, I still shivered whenever her dead lifeless eyes drifted in my vision but.. I was more scared of Marienne. As soon as the the police enquiry session had come to an end, I ran straight to my flat, brought out my laptop and tried to find as much as information I could manage about them. And what I found about them wasn't shocking but still, it chilled me to the core. Marienne Carlisle Victor. A French-American businessman, who is best known for his ruthless statistics and strategies in the corporate world. Devilishly handsome looking but taken from at the age of 19. Well known

The dimly lit booth was as romantic as it possibly could be, with candles lit on the table. The waitress brought us 2 glasses of scotch and we ordered our meals. “I’ll have the classic Alfredo with truffles” Janice spoke. “The lobster please.” I told her. “So listen Janice… I really loved the past few days we’ve had together. And before whatever is going on between us gets any further, there’s something I have to tell you about my line of work.” I told her. “Now I understand if this changes how you feel about me, but I’ll cut the chase. Janice, I am the leader of the Los Grove Cartel.” Looking into her eyes to try and guess what she was thinking.

One would think they’re restraining a monster. Perhaps what bothered me most was her eyes. They’re empty. The usual lightness disappeared like it was stolen from her. I let my gaze trail from her neck down her chest, noticing they had stripped her off her uniform, leaving her in nothing but her underwear and bra. My hands trembled with an urge to kill someone right now, and I know exactly who. Scarlet Tate. I could smell her disgusting perfume even from a mile away. From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of a small knife laying on a table nearby.

Lucian casually laid on the ground his M82 sniper rifle he had reached for in his car only a minute ago. He had gotten his binoculars out after Drago and his men had sped past him in order to get a better view of their interaction but to his upmost annoyance, Drago only took action on entering the building and when he was finally with Andrew, he was still busy exchanging words with him. But words wasn’t what Lucian wants, he wanted the man to pay dearly for raising his hand on Ava and so right after Antonio had met up with him, he reached for his sniper and without a second thought, took the man down.

I almost stumbled onto the carpeted aisle when a group of robust men suddenly appeared in my sight. "Divina de la Frontera, what a wonderful day is it, right?" the man in the middle sarcastically asked. "Who...Who are you? What do you want from me?" I questioned as I stepped back, my end was already pinned to the wall. I had nowhere else to go. The man who spoke stepped forward. His sneer made me quiver, his burning orbs reminded me of a criminal...like Franco. Were these men like him?

She paused and resumed her pacing which she had stopped when she had been speaking. Alex was very shocked. So shocked that it was a wonder that he managed to conceal his gasp of surprise. He stopped it at the last moment because he didn't want her to know he was here. He still wanted to hear more before he would reveal himself but now he knew more than enough to come to a solid conclusion. He knew that his mate, Jasmine, was the unknown serial killer who had been killing people from their pack for a while now. His own mate, his goddess-given mate was a serial killer and he was just finding it out from her own mouth. Never had he expected to hear something like that when he had followed Jasmi

For once he had found love and he wouldn't let it slip away so easily. Richard looks around as if scouring for a tool to break out of the cell and then he sights a stone, slim and shiny. ***********" My king someone seeks your presence," an armed man said, his voice threaded with fear. Fear of an unknown force. He knew how blood-thirsty Apollo was. His scared face spelling out inevitable death. It made torture become ecstacy and pain a tool for excitement.

The other short, with tired eyes. The tall one sat across from Rico, slapping a thin file on the table. “Ricardo Morales. Known as Rico. Connected to at least three shootings in the past year. Seen with Kroos, The Boss, and recently tied to Salvatore Marquez’s cartel mess.” He leaned in. “You’ve been busy.” Rico smirked. “You sound like a fan.” The short detective sighed, rubbing his face. “Listen, kid. You’re in deep. Real deep. You keep playing smartass, you’re going to drown.”

I heard a man shout that the exit was blocked, then a wet, choking sound that made the back of my throat burn. Frankie didn’t raise his voice. He cut the noise down with two words. “Pull back.” Someone argued. Someone panicked. Frankie said it again, colder. “Pull back. Now.” They withdrew, but the damage had already landed. Rafael came back not long after with blood on his sleeve and a look that could’ve started a war inside our own walls. “One of my sicarios is down,” he said. “Not dead. Not yet.” Tony didn’t look up from his screen. “We’ve got a soldier with a shattered knee,” he said. “He’s alive, but he’s not walking ever again.”

“But not on the desk. That’s Santiago’s private drawer.” I dared a peek through a crack in the curtain. It wasn’t Emilio. It wasn’t even a security guard. It was Santiago himself. Up close, Santiago Torres looked even more terrifying than I imagined. Slick black hair. Sharp jaw. A scar down his neck like a knife had once tried to silence him. He was calm—but the kind of calm that meant danger. A tiger before the pounce. He walked toward the desk, dragging his fingers along the edge. My phone was still inside the bottom drawer.