Rant: An Oral Biography Of Buster Casey

In the VIP lounge of an underground casino, Maeve, the Falcone family's princess, had been plied with too much hard liquor. Fueled by alcohol, someone goaded her into revealing the most shameless thing she'd ever done to win over the Don. She swirled her glass, pointed at me dealing cards behind the table, and threw her head back with a laugh. "Seven years ago, when Declan was in a coma after a shootout, I took his private phone. And I deleted the distress message that bitch sent him. Every last trace of it. Then I replied in his name: You're a burden. Go die." "You'll never guess what happened next. That idiot stood outside the safe house all night in a downpour, like a stray dog. I almost died laughing…" The room erupted in crude laughter. Only the man enthroned at the head of the table remained silent. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Blood mixed with the amber liquor, trickling over the veins on the back of his hand before dripping onto the carpet. His murderous, bloodshot eyes were locked on me. I calmly dealt the last hole card in front of him and offered a clean, white silk handkerchief. "Don Declan, you should wipe your hand. Blood on the felt is bad luck." After all, some stains never wash out.

For over thirty years, my wife Janet faked being broke—for her flimsy ex. When our son Asher landed in the hospital, I begged and borrowed from everyone I knew. Still came up fifty bucks short. Janet? Said she was tapped out. So my mom sold off her own meds to cover the bill—never told me. She died without treatment. I handled my mom's funeral alone. When I went to pick up Asher from the hospital, I found a stash of Janet's old shopping receipts. Custom suits. Million-dollar watches. A damn private jet. I grabbed them and stormed off to confront her. Asher cut me off. "Dad, Mr. Sackett's sick. Mom's just helping him out. Why are you freaking out?" I stared at the kid who only lived because my mom died. It felt like something cracked inside me. Janet barely looked up. "Connor's educated. He deserves the finer things. Unlike you—crying over fifty bucks like some househusband. See? I didn't give you the money, and Asher's fine." Fine. If that's how they see it, I'm done with this family.

I was sent to a correctional facility by my family for five years. The first thing I learned there was obedience. If people told me to do one thing, I would never dare do anything else. The day my wife, Casey Anderson, came to pick me up, she stood at the entrance and said coldly, "If you dare say another bad word about Roger, I'll make sure you never speak again." The moment she finished speaking, I turned and ran straight into traffic. When she saw me get thrown by the impact of the car, she nearly lost her footing. At the hospital, my foster brother stood beside my bed with a sinister smile. "So you actually managed to survive. But that's fine. I have plenty of ways to kill you and make sure you never make it home." After saying that, he smashed the bowl of porridge onto the floor, then deliberately fell onto the shattered glass as he cried out loudly, "Bobby, if you hate me that much, I'll leave! Please, just let me go!" My mother and Casey happened to walk in at that exact moment. Casey immediately rushed over to help Roger up. My mother, meanwhile, slapped me hard across the face. "You'll never change, huh? If Roger's hand is ruined because of you and he can't play the piano anymore, I'd rather see you dead in this hospital bed." Obediently, I walked toward the window and jumped. The harsh, sharp-tongued woman who had always been my mother—and Casey as well—went completely pale with fear. I happened to crash onto my father's car. Trembling, he threw open the door and shouted for the medical staff. My consciousness gradually faded. Then, a system suddenly appeared and said, "Congratulations, Host. You have completed ninety-nine tragic storylines. Finish this final one, and you will be able to return to your original world and revive your younger sister."

Ava had her back at Drex, and for the past month, her life had turned from bad to worse. at that moment when she had fallen deeply in love with the ruthless assassin who contributed to making her life miserable, the world began to look beautiful again, she thought things would turn out for the best, only for her to find out that Drex was not protecting her because he loved her. "I hate you with every fiber in me," Ava screamed in tears. Even when she utters those words, her heart still beats for him, She wished he had killed her that night, she wished he had never met him. She wished she had never fallen for him, how can she love someone who wouldn't miss the slightest opportunity to end her life? "if I disappear out of your life, will that make you happy?" Drex asked. "You are a total jerk!" She yell. With rage, Ava stormed toward him and slapped him across his face, she made to slap him again but Drex held her tightly and draw her into his embrace. Her anger dissipated immediately, she melt away in his embrace. She love his smell, his cologne which she was now familiar with give her nothing but comfort. "I love this side of you, so feisty!" he said. ******** Don Drex Mason is well-known to the outer world as a dropped-dead handsome bachelor and a businessman but in the underworld, he was the most feared ruthless mafia assassin. Ava Anderson, a small-time introverted nosy newspaper journalist, the two personalities crossed paths on an unfortunate rainy night, she was his target and a threat to his client, she's to be eliminated at all costs. but their fate was already sealed by lightning which made them share one soul.

“Mom won’t be back till sunrise, Trish... which means we’ve got the whole night to argue, deny, and figure out whatever this mess between us is.” Seventeen-year-old Trish Carpenter moves in with her mother's closest friend, Miss Britney, after a devastating tragedy/loss strikes just before senior year. Thankful just to have a place to stay, she quickly realizes her refuge is anything but safe when she meets her new housemate: Miss Britney’s only child, Joseph Roland (18). The arrogant, untouchable, and the notorious Number One Badboy of her school – Mthland High, he rules the school... and now he’s sharing her new home. Forced to share one roof, their new domestic life spills over into their senior year, fueling their TOXIC school, and it's wide gossip and intense rivalry. He's the chaos. He's the one girls like her hate. He's THE Obnoxious and Unruly. And he's her roommate now. Their shared home transforms into a silent war zone. And then Senior year begins with rumors and gossips: The King of Mthland High is living with a random school girl? They share the same home? The summer shattered her world. Senior year was about to test whatever pieces she had left.

I'm born with a curse, so I never speak another word since I'm old enough to be understanding. Since my six-year-old daughter, Jada Westfield, accidentally knocks over my sick older brother, Cain Westfield, my wife, Serena Harlow, sends her to a dog-training facility immediately. Jada has gotten bitten by dogs in the past, so she's extremely terrified of them. I do everything I can to stop Serena from sending Jada there—even resorting to groveling in front of her, my forehead sticky with blood—yet Serena never spares a glance in my direction. Instead, she helps Cain up to his feet and gently pats the dust off his pants. But the moment she speaks up, her voice is glacial and ruthless. "Don't think I can't tell that Jada did this because you've been secretly grooming her to do so. You're an extremely manipulative mute, after all. Your dirty blood courses through Jada's veins as well. If I don't start teaching her a lesson at an early age, she will eventually grow up as a pathetic loser. "I'm sending her to the facility so that she can learn the rules of this world. She will learn that seniority takes precedence over everything. This also serves as a lesson for you to never harm the person you aren't supposed to engage with!" I finally find Jada, who has gotten trapped in a cage filled with a dozen rabid mutts. Her body has already been torn into pieces. I suppress the pain in my heart as I put pieces of Jada together like a jigsaw puzzle. After more than 20 years, I finally utter my first sentence. "Serena Harlow, I want you to pay the price with your blood, and I want you to lose everything you have in life."