Gangster Heart Novels & Stories

A life is at stake here! His words left me dumbfounded and hurting, like I had my heart gouged out too. I held Stan's photo tightly against myself, but no matter how hard I gripped it, it wasn't filling the hole in my chest. "A life is at stake?" I laughed wryly, before snapping coldly, "When he just went missing for hours?! My dear Stan had an accident and then got his heart taken away! So I guess some lives are more at stake than the others?!"

I swiftly stowed my phone away in my bag and navigated the streets with utmost care. My heart raced in my chest, its frantic beats demanding my attention. Placing a hand on my pounding chest, I tried to decipher its cryptic message. "Lucas Gambino!" His name echoed in my ears, sending a shiver down my spine. The fear of encountering him again loomed in my mind, even the darkness seemed to carry his presence. I scanned my surroundings, searching for any hidden cameras. Lucas Gambino was capable of anything. As the Mafia Lord, he had an endless web of connections that could spell danger.

It's time to focus on my work. I put back the lingerie in my pocket and stormed out of my suite. Black roll Royce cars were lined up outside with men in black, waiting for me. Their Boss , Caspar Mcadam, the money laundering Mafia King. The god of the American underworld. I'm the symbol of danger, blood and death...no human being in their sanity would like to cross their paths with me... I'm a ruthless man with no mercy feelings. People call me Psychopath killer... and some say I'm a heartless beast! And they're correct with it.

A man with a heart and emotions was never allowed to live in his dark world, if anyone wanted to join his gang, they had to be heartless just like him. He was raised to become Capo, to rule without mercy, to dish out brutality without a second thought. He was raised to break others. His childhood was like a blur but all he remembered from his past was harshness, brutality, blood, and screams. When a black sheep was spotted in his gang, he acted fast to hunt him down and killed him with brutality and then saved his people but it seemed to be too late. All his subordinates were taken down by the police, some cowards surrendered while some bravely took the bullet in the fight, leaving only one

Paying gangs, bribing cops, promising blood and riches to anyone who carried his banner. The bastard wasn’t planning a deal. He was planning a war. And the city didn’t even know. We ducked into a diner when the sky turned gray. Coffee, eggs, bacon we didn’t touch. Both of us hunched in the booth, maps spread under greasy plates. Thomas stabbed his fork at Pier 19’s spot on the map. “This is the heart. He’s pulling the strings from here.” “Then we cut the heart out.” He barked a laugh. “Simple. Just waltz in and knife the king.”

He’s big, dangerous, and completely obsessed with me. Saxon isn’t the kind of guy you bring home to the folks–not that I have any. As the leader of the biker gang, “The Heartless Bastards,” he has fists like cannonballs, a dark past, a body covered in scars, and lips that whisper secrets I shouldn’t want to hear. When he sets his sights on something, he takes it. And now, he’s got his sights on me.

"They're a mafia organization affiliated with Crimson Eagle Industries, the competitor to Gil's. These men run the dark of the world. They handle all the 'business' that Crimson Eagle might need to stay off the books. Brutal, connected, loyal only to one man.” Flipping myself back down, I saw the pictures again, flipping through them until my fingers landed on the final shot. I almost let it drop when I gazed on the face in it—man with keen eyes, cocky nearly arrogant grin—and so powerful and ruthless; yet so familiar, gave me chills. It was him. Thorne Crimson.

“And how has justice been treating you lately, Detective? Suspended. Disgraced. Partner gone. Career in ruins. Is that what justice looks like?” Alex’s jaw tightened. His second card was a seven of diamonds. A pair. He kept his face still. “Justice takes time.” “Time is something you don’t have much of left.” Vincenzo’s third card was a three of clubs. “The people who killed your partner aren’t waiting for justice. They’re grabbing power. Burning evidence. Making sure anyone who gets too close ends up like Marco. Or worse.” The words landed heavy. Alex felt them sink cold into his chest.

— I ask, amazed. — I was seventeen years old when I blocked any affection from anyone. — He began, capturing my attention as I watched him fiddle with the ring on my finger. — Dantas was like you, completely outside the desire of a mafia father. He hated our world as if we lived together with the devil himself as king. It was hatred, hatred of everything, of injustice... of the blood shed for reasons of power... for sometimes unnecessary laws that we had to comply with... because he was prohibited from doing something that in the other world is normal. He wanted to be free, and he didn't see that freedom here; He didn't see how his dreams would come true if he was who he was... son of a Capo

Whatever things that are not from the Lord the Eaters were being fed off. Harold has a lot of Eaters surrounding him every day. Today, I am fighting six of them with my bare hands and the skills that was left in me for decades of trainings. I cannot let them eat another portion of Harold’s mind and heart. He must think of the happy thoughts; he is running fast from the owner of the bag he just stole with. He was fourteen years old, homeless and starving. He run out from the orphanage he is staying to find his sister, but he failed. Thus, he was walking and begging on the busy street of Toronto.