Gangster Mack Novels & Stories

Well, I’ll be damned! The lanky junkie pushed a naked woman off him, grabbed his two underling’s hands to pull himself up from the mattress, when the clutches of drugs almost dragged him back and the third man came forward to assist him. Taking his pants from the fourth guy, Mickey couldn’t stop sniggering. ‘Get everyone. We’re going to party!’ What seems like a decade later, he finally made it in front of the Mafia King and the sight of him almost sobered him up.

Mac looks up as I approach, his face pale, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps. “You don’t have the case of money or the shipment,” I say, my voice measured but laced with irritation. “What the hell happened?” “It… it was Ghost,” Mac stammers, his words tripping over each other. “He showed up at the docks. He knew about the shipment. He… he took everything.” The name hits me like a slap. Valenti Moretti. Ghost. Of course it’s him. Always him. “He took it?” I repeat, my voice dropping dangerously low.

Mack said, offering me his hand. I hugged him and he hugged me back. I turned him around to put his back to Nick. I hope he forgives me after this. Nick hopped out of the car and I looked at Mack and sighed at him, "Mack, I'm so sorry." His eyebrow raised, "What are you all..." but he didn't finish his sentence. Nick hit him over the head with the gun he took. Mack fell into Nick's arms and set Mack down gently. He came toward me and yanked me back inside the van.

“Just you two out here searching? With this much wreckage shouldn’t fire department and ambulances be here?” “They are on the way.” One rogue said as the other walked around the truck stopping in the back, “Do you need any help?” Mack asked. “No, we already covered most of the territory, could use some water though.” The rogue closes to his window said. Mack hands him two bottles each and then says. “Well, I guess I better head on out then. My condolences gentlemen.” “Condolences for what? We ain’t from here.” The rogue tells him. “I know.” Mack says stabbing the rogue by his window and shooting the other in the head killing both.

Zara Howard It all happened so quickly, anyone could barely process how our living room turned into a gangster scene from a movie. A drunkard gambler who borrowed too much money from the Mafia and had nothing to offer except for empty promises when it was pay up time. Only difference was this time the drunkard was my stepfather, Chad Hudson and the Mafia was Asher Lancaster, the powerful mob boss, who brought with him 6-7 terrifying armed men. My mother was tightly gripping onto my arm as she tried to drag me and my older sister, Scarlett farther away from them. My eyes, however, were fixated on the scene unfolding right in front of me.

TBC🍀♠️ ••••♠️RYAN♠️ |Clark’s Villa| 10:17am|: The Mace mafia gang is the strongest, most dominant gangster cooperative in Bronx. As usual, very few gangster organizations form alliances with other organizations while a few stay as rivals. The Mace being one of the most feared and well revered, they don’t form alliances and they were enemies of The Pacers. The boss, Hendricks Yulimar Clark, is a very good friend of mine. He was a friend of my father too, but my father was very faithful to Collins.

She immediately wrapped her arms around Maxime's and hugged him tightly. "Damn it, let go of your hands." Angie didn't care. She knew that what she was doing was dangerous. The man standing next to her was no ordinary man. He was a mysterious gangster who apparently could kill her whenever he wanted. Angie didn't know where her fear was going. "Why are you so reluctant to touch me? You must want my body, too." Angie's words were so direct. The hostess who served them was surprised how easily Angie could say such a sentence.

17 The doors groaned open. The inside smelled of wet wood, smoke, and stale whiskey. A dozen men in green-and-black jackets lined the rafters. Irish eyes, cold and calculating, tracked Gregory like rifles. At the center of the warehouse floor stood Ford McCarthy, head of the Irish mafia, the man with a reputation for cutting throats and sealing peace with the same hand. Ford wore no jacket, just a white shirt rolled at the elbows, sleeves wet from the rain. His voice was sharp as he greeted:

They all came to visit him at the hospital, teasing him on how he couldn’t survive a bullet but could survive a swing of hockey stick. We all laughed and I was so grateful to them for always being by my side, despite the one year difference of being away from Rochester. Maverick’s right hand man, Killian, as he had called him, came all the way from Russia to New York to report to his boss about the Irish mafia and the sniper who had shot him. Turns out Maverick already had it all planned out and with his brilliant plan, his clan was able to subdue the Irish mafia and bring them to their knees.

He was hungry for blood and needed the screams or someone pleading for mercy to ease the anger he felt towards life and he has just found the perfect scapegoat. First, the bastard sold her off to become a sex slave just so that he could pay his death and now he was hearing he had molested Arya as a child? Diego had been trouble from the start, swinging from one Mafia boss and gambling house to another, trying to help in dealing drugs so he could gamble away. Always getting himself caught up in one mess or the other. He had not been a responsible father to Arya when her mother had died and he still has the guts to molest her?