Billy Bathgate Book Novels & Stories

"On the 20th of March, your wife, Delilah Burnett, transferred a large sum of 80,000 dollars to someone on the black market, attempting to hire a thug to go to the hospital to remove my son's oxygen tube." I leaned forward slightly and stared at him. "Did you really think that woman was still enjoying her life out there? I guess I should let you in on a little secret—she's in the women's cell right next to yours. The charge is attempted murder. "Your whole family is never reuniting outside of prison walls ever again." Billy collapsed into a heap on the ground when he heard this. His mouth hung open, and he began making strange choking sounds. The prison guards nearby immediately rushed over,

“Mom, what do I do? How am I supposed to choose between Dante and every child in the world?” Sarah Miller stepped forward. She didn’t even glance at June—her eyes were fixed on the purple pit. “You don’t have to choose, June. Just check the books.” She yanked out the Golden Book and skipped past the recipes, all the way to the back. The pages there were full of numbers and boring rules. “Gabe wasn’t just a baker,” Sarah said, her voice ringing out. “He was a businessman. He kept every receipt.” She hurled the book into the purple oil.

Faith meant to decline the call but mistakenly clicked accept. "Faith, wait! Don't hang up!" She heard Dan's rushed voice. "I have proof! I'll prove everything to you, I'm not a liar!" He spoke again Before Faith could speak or do anything else, the bathroom door suddenly pushed open and Sterling walked out. His body was still wet from the shower, he had only a towel wrapped around him. When his gaze found hers, Faith paled a little. The last thing she wanted was for him to get upset over nothing again.

He was a murderer, willing to send a hired killer to eliminate two innocent people—and then miraculously, I was framed for it. I entered my mansion, the soft glow of the chandelier above casting faint shadows on the marble floor. My phone buzzed in my bag, and I quickly fished it out. “Breaking News: Emmanuella Moretti Murdered in a Hotel Room!” My heart stopped, my hand trembling as I stared at the screen. “What?” I whispered, frozen in place. Gabriel had already crossed so many lines, but to kill his own wife? Was he truly this cold and calculating? I barely had time to process the shock when Natasha’s hurried footsteps echoed from the staircase.

He continued, his hands climbing up her stomach and dangerously close to her breasts when two sharp raps at the door interrupted them, and Reena could not help the gusts of air that left her at the perfectly timed interruption. “Agent, final briefing at ten!” Her closest thing to a friend William Bates, also known as agent 9 yelled professionally from behind the door, and the Chief yanked his prying hands from her body as if she was made of hot coal, after all there was nothing he valued more than his fucking fake reputation. Reena pushed past him as quickly as she could, not about to risk William walking away and leaving her with him a second time, but judging from the smoldering gaze behi

Most of those he employs are usually those who used to work as undercover agents for the government and wanted a different life. He eyed me with suspicion as he drank his whiskey. “Someone I know just got scammed, but I have a feeling it’s more than just a scam,” I continued. “Who got scammed?” Emmet asked, his curious eyes scanned me from head to toe. “My secretary’s grandmother,” I replied. “Natalie?” Garret asked frowning. “Who the fuck would do that to an old lady?” I can feel the rage building in him but never dare correct him. I know that if I tell them about Evelyn they will never stop asking.

Nina replied. Brian was a bit disappointed, he always looked forward to seeing Emily everyday at the dining table, he had his breakfast and headed upstairs, back to his room. He picked up some documents on his mini desk beside his bed. He was about to open them when something caught his attention. There were two brown boxes on top of his wardrobe. “what could be in there” he puts the documents on the desk and brings the boxes down. “Oh, I must've skipped this,” he said as he opened the boxes. There were a bunch of his old stuff that he planned to sort out and dispose of the rest.

I needed to know if I could really do this. I found myself standing outside Nathaniel’s sleek penthouse building. My heart pounded as I stared up at the towering structure. The security guard recognized me from the charity gala and let me in without question. Before I knew it, I was knocking on Nathaniel’s door. He opened it, looking surprised but not unwelcoming. “Evelyn?” “I need to talk,” I blurted out. He stepped aside, allowing me in. The place was even more luxurious than I’d imagined. Tall windows, sleek furniture, and the city lights twinkling far below us.

A slight silence sets in before it responds in a neutral tone: - GOOD. Alright. His gaze slides over me again, as if he felt that I expected more details. He says nothing more. Of course he is not going to talk about it. His traveling to Italy after the death of his father ... The management of his belongings ... All this remains a mystery. I have never asked Madame Isabella questions, but I heard some murmurs of other employees. Rumors. Blurred stories about complicated family affairs. I slowly rest my spoon and, without really thinking, I whisper:

“Find out why she agreed to it. There’s a motive buried in there. Dig until you find it.” “Yes, boss. I’ll get right on it,” Dan replied and quickly turned to leave. Vinnie remained seated, fingers drumming thoughtfully on the armrest. He was getting closer, but the Harrington's were proving more complicated than he expected. Still, nothing—and no one—was going to stop him. HARRINGTON'S MANSION — EARLIER THAT EVENING “Margaret, do you know who could’ve sent something like this to our house?” Arthur’s voice trembled with barely restrained fury, his face red as he stared down at the bloodied, severed head on the tiled floor.