Novel & Cerita Gangster Disciple Book Of Knowledge

“No.” “I went straight to the rival guys. Got over fifty g’s per kid but I would’ve fucking executed them for free. Once that was done though, there was no way I could stop. That group, the Polanski’s, they’re a big fucking crime family around here. You can’t just off six of their guys and expect to walk away without a consequence. I needed some sort of protection. I met Booker pretty soon after that. He set me up with some connections, helped me do it ‘freelance’. He gets me jobs, people who have done fucked up, disgusting things, and in return, he makes sure I’m untouchable.”

“And you’ll leave when I’m done.” I pulled a gun from beneath the desk. Not hidden. Displayed. The polished barrel rested on the spine of an old leather-bound book. Il Codice Nero: The Black Code. Fitting. Nico’s eyes flicked down. I placed my hand on it. Not gripping, just touching. Like it wasn’t even necessary to aim. “I asked for information,” I said. “You gave me crumbs.” “I gave what I had.” “No,” I said coldly. “You gave what you thought was safe.”

He leaned on his motor and began to read. Dear Gangster, Lucifer Cuenca, the name of the man who received and I am not ashamed. A lot is being stoned about me being a Psycho and Weirdong girl. I've been seeing you at school for a few years but you just talked to me too. I will never forget how we started talking.

I warned strictly while picking up a small jotter on his table. I can see you're a well trained warrior and detective so this shouldn't take much of my time. "All the answers you need are in the book in your hands so let me go" he said at once looking defeated. I hurriedly scammed through the jotter when I got hold of a name there ….. "Alpha Gomez"

I walk toward the door, my gun pointed straight ahead, ready for him. Just as Mariano steps out in his silk bathrobe, a look of annoyance on his face, he begins to speak. “Who the hell is that...Dante—” I cut him off, my speed a blur. I grab him by the collar, the slick silk twisting in my fist. He stumbles, the surprise on his face quickly replaced by fear. I use the butt of the gun to his head, a sharp, metallic thud, then press the cold barrel against his temple. His guards tense, but they freeze. One wrong move, and their boss is dead. He knows it. I know it.

"I thought that you already investigated me? and I have some research as well about me. Why are you hesitating about the things that I could do." "Yeah your right, We just want to make sure Vincent the things that I need you to do is so complicated into risky and one wrong move And you were going to be dead I know that you're ready to memorize all the things about mafia because you grow up believing that the group where I came from is not only but people they are demons and they can kill without a blink of an eye and just a snap they can easily drag you in hell." I nod "I know that sir and if I could cut all their horns I would gladly do that. And now that I know that there's anything lik

Ashly was sitting alone in the meeting room. She was so sunk into the book she was reading. It's been a month since Monika left, and it's not like Ashly didn't feel bad when Monika cried in front of her, but what she can do She never likes to share her things with others. And it's not a bad thing because, apparently, her husband is also the same. Well, talking about now, she was reading a book called "The History of the Mafia Kingdom", when Zia entered the room.

I poured myself a glass of water and drank it in one go. Alessandro "The Devil" Costello, El Padrino. I shook my head, nope, not going to believe it unless I talk to him myself. I made my way out of the kitchen and went straight to the library. Since I had nothing to do, I settled on reading a book. I surveyed the huge library and finally found a book that seemed interesting enough to read. "Mafia and Mafiosi by Henner Hess" With a book in my hand, I walked back to Alessandro’s seat to read but halted in my steps as I saw him already sitting on it.

The old man gave him a cane to discipline him. “Excuse me, sir, but we bandits will not go to paradise.” The henchman walked away to avoid another outburst of anger. “You don't know anything; that's why I'm the boss, and you're my footlocker. It's because when I die, I will repent of all the bad things I did to achieve redemption; that's what the village priest taught me, and other things.” Don Giuseppe threw the cane at him and hit him in the forehead.

“Who are they?” He hesitated, then said, “They were once protectors — now they are seekers of forbidden knowledge. They believe power can only be achieved through the sacrifice of the pure. If they’ve resurfaced, then they’re searching for something… or someone.” My stomach dropped. “Someone like me?” He didn’t answer — which was enough of an answer. I looked down at the torn fabric in his hand. “Then they took the book.” “Most likely,” he said, his tone grim. “And if they have it, then they’re already one step ahead of us.”