Sinister 2 Milo Novels & Stories

She releases his hair and the hint of victory plays on his lips before he frowns. "You're a menace." She sticks her tongue out, straightens her dress then walks towards me. "I don't need to pull your hair to get a confession out, do I?" "I talked to him." Tony is out of earshot. "Mia." "He had this hoodie and cargos. All black. He seemed worn out, but even exhaustion looked good on him. Then he placed a gold chain over his neck to stand out. A cross in the middle." "Mia." "What. Did. You. Do?"

Lara's POV* The Williams Group boardroom on the thirty-fifth floor was a long, formal room with a glass wall overlooking Midtown and a table that seated fourteen. I walked in at two fifty-eight with Xander on my left and Franklin on my right, and the room was already half-full; Mercer was seated midway down the table and gave me a small nod when I entered; Farris was at the far end reviewing papers; Solís sat near the window, her notepad open, pen uncapped.

Roman fought like a man possessed, his movements precise and brutal, dropping one wolf after another, but they kept getting back up like pain meant nothing to them. “Milo!” I shouted. He was already digging something out of his coat — a small glass vial glowing faintly blue. He smashed it on the ground, and a wave of sharp, metallic scent hit the air. The wolves recoiled instantly, snarling, their eyes flaring brighter. “Won’t hold ‘em long!” Milo yelled. The child-thing’s face twisted into something monstrous, all teeth and black eyes. “You shouldn’t have come.” Roman didn’t hesitate. He closed the distance in two strides and drove his blade straight into its chest.

She laughed. “What makes you think we can’t take down your leader?” Sigil asked. Her face morphed into a dark expression, “Milo never fails. For Milo to fail, he no longer exists.” In a sense, her statement felt like a kind warning. “Thanks for the warning.” I charged at her, aiming for a clean knockout with my fists when she dodged, unaware of the other fist that struck her directly on the cheek, followed by another heavier strike on the cheek, close to her eyes.

The maids reassured me with a smile, as they said that it’s gonna be okay. After hours of exhausting training, Damien and his parents entered the training grounds; and the very first thing that caught their eye was the sight of me pulling the gun’s trigger, and ended up shooting next to the bull’s eye. They looked at me with amusement, and soon after, Damien walked closer to me with a proud look on his face. “Not bad,” he smirked. I looked back at him, as I smiled. Damien’s eyes were fixed on me; not a second of turning away. We’re like lovers who hold the most genuine feelings towards each other. A model having an affair with one of the strongest mafia bosses in the world. What could be pos

He laughed again—loud, unhinged, echoing off the concrete walls like a psycho who finally won the lottery. One of his guys shifted behind him. Skinny kid with a scar across his cheek. Voice low, urgent. “Boss. Milo’s not someone to play with. You don’t think he came alone, do you? You need to act fast. If you want to kill him, better do it now before we all die here.” Nate shoved the guy hard. Kid stumbled back into a stack of crates. “Shut the fuck up.” Nate cocked his head, his eyes never leaving me. “Milo knew he wouldn’t dare two-time me. He actually came alone. And to be honest…”

There were more important things to attend to than my wounds. "No, he doesn't. He's only angry and doesn't know the truth. You also don't know the truth. That's why I want to keep you safe!" As we ran through the gallery, we found an enemy standing in the hallway. I immediately recognised him. He was Colin's warrior. My blood boiled— the ones that hadn't spilled at least. But Mila pushed me behind her. "I got this!" Before I could say otherwise, she snarled and ran with inhuman speed towards the man. She climbed up his body in swift, easy movements and slashed through his throat with her claws before snapping his neck. He was dead before his body hit the floor.

“That is the worst thing you could have done! If you want me to still do your bidding, you need to stop stalking me and trying to kill Alexander!” It happened in a flash. One moment, he was in his seat, and the next, he was standing right in front of me. He was so fast that I didn’t even register when he left his seat to hit me hard across my face. My head snapped back, and I fell a couple of steps back, muzzled with my head swimming with stars. I saw so many stars that I was beginning to drown in them. Then he grabbed my neck and forced my eyes open. I stared into his face—his pale, malevolent face. Lucas was sneering at me.

I watch him shaking his head in the corner of my eye as he carefully approaches me. "I despise being here; I loathe belonging to anyone, least of all the fucking Mafia!" I sob uncontrollably, shaking my head as my gaze darts between Trent's arrogant face and the Irish leaders' son. "Pull the trigger, Mila." Trent entices me with the rubbing of his hands. I close my eyes, utter a final prayer, and pull the trigger. Nothing,

Christopher thought and in that moment, spotted the pair of slender milk legs sticking out from underneath the bedsheet. He felt his mind blur between the lines of red and reality. "Don't make me repeat myself Lance Laurent. Move this moment, now!" Lance simply played his words off as bluffs and looked him straight in his eyes. "Mind the tone you take with me, mistress's child." He warned.