Drug Dealer Books Novels & Stories

These two places are the most strategic places to conduct drug transactions because in that area Pedro and his men can camouflage among the busy tourists, admiring the beauty of the city of Seattle which is all centered on Pine Street and Pike Street. But even though Pedro has become a fairly well-known drug dealer in Seattle, not many people know about his origins. Only a handful of people Pedro trusted so much knew where he came from and how he got there to make drug deals worth hundreds millions of dollars. All of Pedro's current successes started five years ago.

I ordered Bruno and he responded with a nod. I stepped into the car to see if I could find anything to track Giovanni down, I found nothing but a small plastic bag filled with cocaine and a piece of marijuana in the middle. Instantly I knew who it was from, there was only one dealer who had the style of storing up marijuana in cocaine. Giovanni was still dealing with Sage, the nutritious dealer who smuggles drugs and women.

“I became a drug dealer, selling drugs to junkies and homeless people.” My eyes opened wide with shock and I looked back at my guilt in his eyes. “I am not proud of what I did Felicity. If I could turn back the hands of time there is so much I wish I could change. So much I wish I had never done.” He explained sadly. I did not know how to respond to this. He sold drugs to homeless people! Did he sell drugs to kids as well? I looked at him and I had the sickening feeling that he did that too. What other crimes did he perpetuate? I was certain he was not saying everything.

I say angrily. “We will see about that. What do you want?” “I want Greg. He crossed me. He crossed us both and it’s payback time.” “Finally something we agree on. I want him too. I have made a big loss because of him. Let’s take him down. What do you have in mind?” “Greg is a drug dealer, is into contraband pharmaceuticals and is a child molester. I think those can take him down.” “Wow! I must say I’m impressed. How did you know that?”

‘I am coming to meet you, Step-Mommie and my beloved siblings,’ he thought, rubbing his large hands in glee. Cole Brant, the name his mother had given him, was a dealer. He dealt in drugs but knowing full well the damage they could do to a person, he studiously refrained from using them himself. Yes, he permitted himself a sniff here, a shot there, but all under control. * Cole dreamt big. He wanted to become rich. Fast. He smiled thinly as he stared at the grainy picture he had downloaded from the internet, showing Lucien St Claire glowering at the camera. The man who was in the photograph was around fifty, thickset and dangerous looking.

The guy smiled and nodded for Weber to come to him. Weber pulled the Camaro into the mouth of the dirt alleyway and got out of the car. This close to the beach, the air was thick with the smell of the ocean. The dealer eyed Weber as he approached, decided no way he was a cop, and pulled several vials of white powder from his jacket pocket. Weber wondered how badly the stuff had been cut, but since he wasn’t buying, he didn’t care. He smiled enthusiastically as he sidled closer, an addict relishing his upcoming fix. Up close, Weber could see the acne scars that ravaged the dealer’s thin face. The worn combat jacket stank of sweat and old booze. No one would miss this guy. Not that it mattered

"What kind of lab is it?" "Officially? They manufacture specialty compounds for research institutions. But I did some digging. Kellerman lost his DEA license three years ago for manufacturing controlled substances without proper documentation. He's been operating in a gray area ever since. Not quite illegal enough to get shut down, but definitely not squeaky clean." "So he's exactly the kind of person Daniel would use." "Exactly. And here's the interesting part—Kellerman has a serious gambling problem. He's into a bookie named Sal Marino for about seventy grand. Marino's not the patient type, if you know what I mean."

The ones who sold themselves for drugs, like the ones this criminal offered, were that much worse. Caleb roughly shoved the dealer into the car. The man’s name was Drew Hendricks. It had taken them a month and the testimony of a cuffed hooker to catch him. Now, his prospects looked grim. Greene climbed into the front seat and headed towards the station. Drew remained in sullen silence the whole way there. Caleb knew his type. The criminal probably thought he might still get off. They often believed their girls wouldn’t turn on them, but once the drugs or money stopped coming in, prostitutes didn’t prove to be the most loyal bunch. Some might stay quiet, but most would be sent home to find an

His breath came in short, ragged gasps Xavier stared at the bloody mess before him, unfazed. “I think you'll be interested to see this boss.” Levi picked up a revolver that sat on the workbench decorated with assorted torture tools beside him. He spun the cylinder lazily with his thumb before aiming it at the trembling man’s stomach. “Where do you think I should shoot?” Levi asked Xavier casually, as if discussing dinner plans. Xavier shrugged. “You call the shots, boss.” Levi thought for a moment—then pulled the trigger.

Something told me this girl knew what she was doing, and she wasn't going to stop the until she'd finally broken me down. As if her cheating and lying weren't a sledgehammer enough. "So what do you plan to do?" I paused my rapid typing and thinned my eyes at the odd numbers on the screen of my monitor, heat rolling up my spine when the numbers failed to coincide. Just another person to die at the hands of the Cattanios, and this time, a thief who thought he'd get away with cooking books and stealing half a million from a mega sale of desomorphine, or better known as Krokodil.