Syndicate Dream Novels & Stories

I listened with half an ear to the men as they talked about their new 'squad' at least that's what Lyon had decided to call it since as he says organization sounds too much like law enforcement and he hates any f*ck that has to do with that f*ckery. His vocabulary is even more colorful than Gideon's, and my brother has got a fine grasp on gutter speak.

They anticipated a fierce backlash from the Syndicate, but they were prepared to face whatever challenges came their way. The day of reckoning arrived. The headlines blared, revealing the shocking truth behind the Syndicate's operations. Nathan, Miranda, Lisa, and Alex stood before a room filled with reporters, survivors, and supporters, their voices steady as they recounted the horrifying details of the Syndicate's crimes. The atmosphere was heavy with a mixture of shock, outrage, and a collective determination to seek justice.

Raiden said to his son, seriously looking at the files. (Yes, a syndicate leader was taking in children, young women, and adults who had not yet reached the status of señor citizens. One of his victims had complained to one of the leaders, but admitted to us that it was not the leader of the syndicate.) “Have you ever wondered who the leader of the syndicate is? And this is the profit of the company shareholders.” Shuji told his father when they spoke in Japanese. It was such a serious matter that they didn’t speak Tagalog for the privacy of the company.

The black car was gaining, its engine a low growl that vibrated through the SUV’s frame. Claire swallowed, her voice barely a whisper. “The Syndicate. They’re bigger than you think, Liam. Your empire, your billions—they’re nothing to them. They’ve been watching Sophia since she was a kid, waiting for her to unlock what her father hid.” The Syndicate. The word landed like a stone in my chest, heavy and cold. I’d heard whispers of them before—urban legends about a shadowy group pulling strings behind the city’s power plays. I’d dismissed them as myths, the kind of stories people told to explain the unexplainable. But now, with the visitor, Vanessa, and the man in the suit chasing us, it felt a

"You don't get it," Alessandra said, her voice laced with a weary resignation that made her seem much older than she looked. "We've been here forever, so we know how things work." She took a deep breath, and continued, "There's really only one rule that matters: once you're in a syndicate family, the only way out is death." I felt a chill run down my spine as she spoke, the reality of their situation settling in. "That's why we're all just dreamers," she said, a sad smile playing on her lips.

“You’re lucky I came at all.” Laughter echoed…..dry and cruel. The figure nearest her tilted their head. “Do you know who we are?” “No. But you’ve made it clear you want something.” Another voice, deeper and older: “We are the Shadow Syndicate. Founded before any of your corporations. Funders of wars. Architects of legacy.” “And what does the Syndicate want with me?” “Your war with Elena Montrose has weakened the throne. But your position still holds value. Leverage.” “You mean I’m useful.”

Not completely. For a month, the updates have been the same. She’s safe. She’s happy. That’s enough. That’s all I need to keep moving forward. Tonight’s job is a high-value target, the kind I normally avoid unless the money is insultingly good. This one was. Enough zeros to make the risk worth it. The man is Syndicate, one of the clean-cut killers who went rogue and started playing freelance with the wrong clients. Now someone wants him cleaned up quietly. Which means it falls to me.

Nobody in my memory matched him at all. Then one night, after yet another late shift, I was scrolling through my phone like a zombie when a pop-up appeared out of nowhere. It had a cheap glittering border, the whole nine yards, a classic bottom-of-the-barrel web ad. It was for some app I had never heard of called Astra. I was about to close it when my finger froze in midair for three full seconds. The model on the landing page looked exactly like the man from my dreams. I could not bring myself to close it. Instead, I kept reading.

“How… How did you find out about the black syndicate?” “You're asking the wrong question, young lady?” Pete stated, his eyes narrowing. The line went silent for more than a second before Portia's rolled out again, calmer this time. “What do you want?” “I want to enter the black syndicate. Get me a VIP card before the weekend.” Pete answered and from his high tone, Camila knew he was damn excited. “It's the middle of the month, Pete. I don't have enough money to do that. What about this? After you find her, the club will issue me a shareholder card. I'll give that to you.”