Stephen Bisciotti Novels & Stories

All ninety-nine dads were there, not a single one missing. The living room was so crowded that there was barely any space left. James guided me to sit on the only sofa, then stood in front of me and pointed toward Eric. “Ariel, Eric is special advisor to the Supreme Court and head of the criminal law revision committee.” Then he pointed toward the fierce-looking Paul. “Paul is the chief commander of Hawkins’ task force.” Next, he gestured toward Dad Number Seventy-Eight, Stephen, who was wearing a loud floral shirt. “Stephen here is the biggest casino owner in Oceanport. Legally.”

His heart skipped a beat, and he asked suspiciously, "You know Mr. Yousef Bristow?" Liam looked coldly at him and asked, "So what if I did, and what if I didn't?" Mr. Dixon was stunned by the reply for a second before he quickly came to his senses. The man in the private room was Mr. Yousef Bristow, the president of the Bristow Group! How could such a mogul be dining with the likes of Liam?

“I didn’t hear anything, but Mandy thinks the other agents were insinuating that this wasn’t an accident.” “That’s because it wasn’t,” a muscular black man of nearly six and a half feet replied. They all looked up and then up again. His frame was massive, yet he moved gracefully, like an athlete. In what had to be a practiced move he’d made hundreds of times, he pulled out his badge saying, “Deputy Director Tyrone Stephens with the FBI white-collar division. We have witnesses informing us of a black vehicle that, after repeated attempts to run Agent Tabor off the road, finally succeeded in causing the car to crash. Unfortunately, they didn’t get a license plate number.”

As in the building with his name on it, which owned half the city. She looked at him. Really looked. The watch. The apartment. The way security had said “Mr Cole” like it was a verb. “Is it true?” Her voice was quiet. Bastian didn’t look at her. He looked at Bisi. “How many people know I’m here?” “Just me,” Bisi said. “As of thirty seconds ago. Congratulations.” “Who told you I was missing?” “No one had to tell me.” Bisi crossed her arms. “It was in Forbes. ‘Reclusive Heir Vanishes Before Merger.’ Had your picture. The same face you’re using to drink my coffee.”

Mike had no idea that I had already set a trap for Mike and MacTech. I got an invitation to lunch with Stephen Mac, the CEO of MacTech at a restaurant. Stephen Mac was thirty-two years old and really well known in the tech world for being smart and a bit crazy. Stephen Mac was the kind of person who made you respect him and fear him at the time. I went to the restaurant dressed in a business suit looking like the Vane heiress to talk business about MacTech.

He said. “Sorry? You are…?” Lysia hesitated. The man inclined his head slightly and introduced himself, “I’m Stephen Batista, Mr. Reinhart’s assistant. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” “Hello, Mr. Batista, I’m Lysia Kingsley, a journalist from RRC Newsroom. Nice to meet you as well,” Lysia also nodded back at him. She then took out a card from her bag and handed it to Stephen, adding, “As far as I know, RRC doesn’t have a meeting scheduled with your CEO. Please give him this card on my behalf—Lysia—and let him know I won’t take up any more of his time since we have no further matters to discuss.”

The phone rang for a while before it was answered. Amelia spoke calmly: "Hello, this is Amelia." "Amelia?" The person on the other end was the governor of a state. "I remember now, Seattle mentioned you. What can I do for you?" Amelia got straight to the point: "According to my investigation, BIS Director Patrick has used his position to secretly collaborate with foreign forces and has hidden many artifacts in his home. There are witnesses and evidence."

Any amount of happiness coming my way would straight away be snatched away from me as if I didn't deserve it. My cell rung and I didn't have the strength to pick it up. It was probably my aunt telling me once more that my dad wouldn't have wanted this for me, telling me that by sleeping with women wouldn't erase any pain and let's just say I didn't want to hear any of that. "Bosco" "Sir. Mafioso sent a message" Bosco started. "What message?" "One that comes tainted with innocent blood" "What do you mean?" "Stephen Gilbert, Sir. The reporter that stole documents from us. They killed him and left a message...we don't mix business with women"

I said, pulling out a file, handing it to Carter to give to the men “these are the last of the things we got for the club, and I brought you here to know where your money was spent. Tonight is the opening and I expect you all to be there” “You needn’t worry, Pakhan, we will be there on time” Andrea, one of the Italian men said, his eyes meeting mine. I nodded, watching as they passed the file between them to see what had been bought to report to their own bosses. “If there is nothing that you need to ask, you can leave. Let your bosses know that I would be expecting each one of them to be there, and note that I do not like unnecessary delays” I said, watching as they got up. Donato Bianchi,

“Cosmo? Answer me! Cosmo?!” Stephen smirked when nothing happened. Now he knew how it felt. The security led him away in cuffs. He handed the vaccine to the CEO of World Health Organization, Esmé Sault. “Sorry for the disruption. You may continue, Sir,” He said to the Secretary-General of the United Nations. Stephen sat quietly with a smirk. * “How is your arm?” Temi touched his arm gingerly. “It hurts so bad,” Ire whined. “I am sorry.” “No. It was my idea.”