Novelas y relatos de Sicario

He drops like a stone. The soldier on my right tries to turn, raising his rifle. Spadino is there. He slides across the floor on his knees, a shotgun in his hands. BOOM. The soldier loses his legs. I slide down the wall, free. Marco Greco spins around, eyes wide. He realizes, too late, that he is not the hunter. He is the bait. Aureliano walks through the smoke. He isn't running. He isn't shouting. He walks with the terrifying calm of an executioner approaching the block.

I can tell you that. Ignacio informed me that our lastest victim spewed a little, his name is Moncho and he works for a fucking Mexican drug cartel, which I have no fucking idea of. Luciano managed to get the shit out of him but I expect more, I want to know where my shipments fucking disappeared to. Who the fuck took them?.

Sarah rolled her eyes and complied. Tiodor considered it for a moment. On second thought, Sarah's plan wasn’t so crazy. He had heard about Libia—a girl starved for love and attention, involved in several scandals as the ex-girlfriend of Julio Dorantes, a man who was even ten years older than him. "She’s an idiot," he said out loud. He didn’t know if it would be easy to fake attraction to a girl like her. He wasn’t into skinny, bland girls, much less those who tried to fill their existential voids with relationships. But to get his revenge, he’d be willing to do that and much more.

Marco turned to me, his gaze pinning me down like he was trying to find something more than what he could see. "_Tutti dobbiamo imparare a modo duro_.."He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper and the gun went off. "(We all have to learn the hard way.) Blood splattered everywhere on the wall behind him. Silence reigned, the cool breeze swept through the club's backyard and I just stood there. A witness to a murder. Marco DeSantos had just shot someone dead! TBC.

Sofia sincerely loved me and I did too. "I never said she was a spy" Sonia was silent for a moment and then continued, "I had a thought over the night. The Di Marco and the McCain are sworn enemies... There's no way Sofia would have lived friendly with us knowing I murdered her father and the McCain invaded the syndicate to wreck crises. Even if Don Santino was the monster, the father-daughter bond is still there. What if Sofia had no idea of who she was? She was a nobody in California from what you told me "

Kings with bloodied hands. Bukky, Diego, Milo, Matteo. Red wine and secrets. Santiago stood in the center. Young, sharp-eyed. Snake in silk. The kind of threat that moved quietly rather than strike at once. Fierro waited outside, arms folded, eyes sharp enough to slit throats. Then Santiago saw her through the see-through glass. “Is this her?” And just like that, everything tilted. She tried to run. West wing. Retreat. But it was too late.

A goon lunged, his blade flashing, but I caught his wrist, snapping it, his scream cut short as I drove my knife into his gut, twisting until he stilled. “Burn it,” I growled, my voice low, my men torching crates of cocaine, flames licking the walls. One of Salazar’s lieutenants, a wiry bastard named Rico, begged on his knees, his hands raised. “Please, Reaper, I didn’t—” I shot him between the eyes, blood pooling, my boots stepping over his corpse. My men flinched, their glances uneasy, but I didn’t care. This was me now—cold, merciless, the devil they’d forgotten.

His lips turned in confusion when he didn't find anyone walking in after in. “I found her,” Nico rasped. His voice was hoarse, edged with adrenaline. “Sanders. Or what’s left of her.” Matteo stood slowly. “What do you mean—what’s left?’ “She was drugged. Catatonic. Probably won’t wake again.” Nico stepped forward, dropping a soaked leather bag onto the floor with a heavy thud. “But I got this.” He crouched beside the bag and unzipped it, pulling out a handful of documents—some waterlogged, others clean and stamped with Santiago’s private insignia. Beside the folders, he placed a burner phone, cracked down the middle.

“You’re going, Sylvia. You’re going to have a one night stand with Mario Santiago, get him the sign the papers, then kill him. You’re going to fix this family's mess.” Family. As if the people in this house had ever been that to me. I turned away, my eyes burning with unshed tears. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry. But as I was shoved toward the door, toward the car waiting to deliver me to the man everyone whispered about in hushed tones, the tears came anyway. I’d heard the stories about Mario Santiago. The leader of the Santiago cartel. The deadliest man alive. People disappeared in his world. People died in his world. And now, thanks to my mother, I was being

Alejandro paced the length of the hospital hallway like a lion trapped in a cage, his fists clenched so tightly the veins in his arms bulged beneath the sleeves of his shirt. Every inch of him screamed fury and desperation. Aria had been taken again, and this time it wasn’t just a rival cartel—it was someone closer, someone who knew how to disappear without a trace. Sophia stood nearby, her arms folded across her chest, her face pale but determined. “He won’t kill her,” she said softly, watching Alejandro carefully. “He wants something else—something deeper.”