Brooklyn Crime Novel Novels & Stories

“Yeah, almost. But we don’t need to take any action right away, alerting the people, who are using her to reach their goals. She is merely a puppet and the real ringmaster is someone else that has managed to orchestrate this entire play from the shadows. There are three other names on the list of Red Finance from which one has died in an accident- Benjamin Griffith. I need you to send a team behind Rita. I am sure she will meet her lover once she feels safe. I am 100% sure they are fornicating. Arrest Patrick Griffith and Rita together when you get a chance and bring them in on investigation on the ground of felony. Make sure to wrap the situation under the covers to not alert the others inv

_*]:min-w-0 !gap-3.5"> ELARA The NYPD precinct is exactly what you'd expect from every crime drama on TV: fluorescent lights, worn linoleum floors, the smell of burnt coffee, and too many bodies in too small a space. Except this time, I'm not watching it on screen. I'm living it. Damien walks beside me, with his hand on my lower back. Behind us is our lawyer...a sharp woman in her sixties named Margaret who has a reputation for eviscerating prosecutors on cross-examination.

Part I Manhattan’s skyline shimmered beneath a cold, deceptive sun…brilliant, untouchable, as if the city itself denied every rumour whispered through its towers. The morning papers had her face on them again. HARTMAN HEIRESS LINKED TO BANK FRAUD INVESTIGATION. Evelyn folded the newspaper on the marble countertop of her penthouse kitchen and exhaled through her nose. Another knife disguised as a headline. Another move from Victor Crane.

She manages to deceive him for a whole year until her cup finally gets filled. After four months he goes to a nightclub and brings back a lady. They do their thing and the lady leaves the next day. Bella, as usual, goes to kill her. She has no idea the lady is the daughter of one of the deadliest mafia bosses in Italy. Killing her isn't easy because she fights so well, but Bella still manages to get her down. She is about to leave the place only to come face to face with Conrald and his men. Before she can say a word, gunmen pull up and finish off nearly all of Conrald's men whom he brought along.

Alfred said while walking towards the coffee maker. “What type of coffee do you prefer, black or creamy?” He asked Melody, clicking the two mugs together. “Creamy, sir,” Melody responded slightly, staring at Alfred, who didn't seem to spare her a glance. “Antonio is not like every other criminal; he has his tricky ways,” Melody insisted, staring at her boss with all inconvenience. “What ways, Melody?” Alfred demanded adamantly, but she wasn't willing to talk. How would she even tell her boss? She was involved with a criminal. How would she even tell her boss that the tricky ways he had were the ways he made her moan in sexual frustration?

Jason looked at his best friend and shook his head, a mixture of pity and annoyance passing through his sharp eyes. Hiram let out a heavy, exhausted sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he watched his sister's retreating figure. It was entirely clear to them that Vivica wanted to get rid of Brooklyn because of Preston. She wasn't fighting a janitor; she was desperately attempting to destroy the nominal wife who had hijacked the honeymoon suite she had custom-designed. In Brooklyn’s office, as her watch ticked to 17:45, Brooklyn neatly packed her designer handbag and quickly stepped out of her office. She drove straight through the afternoon traffic to Dr Barbara Leroy, the Forensic Psych

This woman, wearing a pair of red-bottom heels, strutted past his secretary, Margaret, without permission, and entered Dean's office. Brooklyn enters a sleek, glass-walled office, her heart pounding like a drum in her chest. He was seated at his large mahogany desk, overlooking the bustling cityscape. Dean was in a meeting, but her intense expression prompted him to dismiss everyone. "Dean Whitmore!" As Brooklyn stood in Dean’s office, the remnants of rage and heartbreak still crackled in her chest. It was uncanny how his phone suddenly vibrated on the desk. Dean glanced at the screen, his face shifting from controlled calm to alarm.

The alcohol churned in my stomach, and tears ran down my face. Nico stood next to me, watching coldly. A taxi pulled up. "Brooklyn?" I asked. The driver leaned over. "Yeah." I pushed myself up, caught my breath, and reached for the door handle. Then someone grabbed my arm and yanked me back. I fell into Nico's chest. "What are you doing in Brooklyn?" he demanded. Brooklyn was full of politicians and cops. Mafia families didn't go there. I tried to push him away. He caught my wrist instead. His body heat seeped through his clothes into mine.

I move to my car and get in. “Drive." I tell the driver and he kicks the engine to life. In minutes, we're riding away from Brooklyn towards our turf. “So,” Jacob, my right hand begins clearing his throat. " Any lead on who is behind the killings?” " None,” I tell him, leaning back against the seat and lighting a cigarette. I don't usually smoke but some nights I'm just so stressed that I desperately need some relief. I take a drag and slowly blow out the smoke. " The girl was branded on her collarbone and Vitto confined it was the same as the others."

"Rain, what are you talking about?" "He's dangerous. He's a potential suspect in a murder." She pushed a magazine into my hands. She turned to pace. "Centrefold," she called out, fisting her hair. I opened up the magazine to see the man who was blackmailing me into working for him. He was with another woman who had her hand up showing off her ring finger. While her other hand rested on his chest. The article heading read: Constantine Leone—so that was his name— and Lexi Walsh made it official on social media.