Gangster Nerd Novels & Stories

Although he was quiet at first,he opened up a little later on. Devan is the wild child. He is the one that smokes and is covered in tattoos. He jumps from girl to girl every week or so. He never liked obeying the rules but he has no choice but to do so. He calls it the disadvantage of being bestfriends with the future Alpha. Kendrick is the joker. He likes pulling pranks and causing chaos everywhere he goes. He is funny as hell and he does not give a damn about what people think.

“After Monic and Dom left, I started going to the Underground Place frequently, as in everyday-frequently. I loved fighting, it was something I do in my spare time and no, I didn’t do it because of the money it supplied. I made sure it all went to an orphanage nearby. I did it out of sheer pleasure. I love the thrill of the fight and the adrenaline it fills me. You would understand,” I gave Adam and Zac a pointed look and they both nodded in understanding. “What I have trouble understanding is why you, a nerd, would choose the Underground Place to fight in of all places. Why didn’t you go to a smaller less dangerous place? Where there are no bulky guys.” Jake pointed out.

The gangster grinned wickedly when he sensed how weak Garren was. “Classmate? You better f*ck off before I f*ck you up. Do you know who I am?” Garren was frightened. He asked timidly, “W-who are you?” “I’m in the Empire.” As the gangster grinned, the flaps on his cheeks widened, making him look vicious. He raised his arm to display the dragon tattoo on it and said, “See this? They call me Dragon.”

He laughed and turned around, "I asked for a Princess, not a fvcking clown" "Maybe you got the wrong person" I announced and he clicked his tongue. "Nay.... You're the right one..." "What do you want with me? Who are you?" I was losing my patience already. One minute I was on my way home and another, I'd been taken by some unknown skull-faced gangsters. The young man took a step closer to me and adjusted his biker's jacket, "Since you asked... I'm Gerald Anderson... Acting Don of the Eastern Gang"

“Mr. Calmar doesn’t show off. He is probably hiding in an open spot, waiting for us to catch him and deal with him.” “Then… Cockeye?” Eduardo tsked. “Cockeye is a pussy. I would drink the entire ocean if he did this.” What kind of name is Cockeye? But then, from the movies I have watched, I think gangsters are meant to have funny nicknames like Pencilgun or Dickmachine. I wonder if Alessandro has a nickname. I am sure it will have the word ‘death’ or ‘evil’ in it. Who knows, maybe his nickname is Evil Lord?

Her voice is warped by the ambient hum of my dying PC fan, but still very judgmental. I roll onto my stomach, pushing aside a graveyard of snack wrappers. “Pixel, please. If I get arrested, it's because I cracked a dead whale wallet and forgot to clear my browser history. Not because the FBI found me eating cereal shirtless at 2 a.m.” “You’re disgusting.” “I prefer the term ‘vintage hacker chic.’” “You’re a nerd in sweats with a death wish.” “Sexy death wish,” I correct. My headset crackles as someone new joins the chat. “Is the sexy death wish playing tonight or what?”

I stood up, approached her, and held her hands. "Please, Roden doesn't show that kind of face to me." Maybe I'll believe you and that's bad. "I'm a gangster Zak, I know a lot. I have a lot of ways." "Shut up. Being a gangster, you have to stand on the top. Then you have to dedicate yourself completely to the system. What the group is doing, you must do as well. All you know is to forcibly get the property of others, intimidate and hurt them. Do you think you can use that on everyone? "

“They are mere thugs. They molest the public and extort others. We may be wild, but nobody ever achieved success in the underground mafia society being a saint.” As soon as he finishes those words, the gangster attacks me. He has a tattoo on his forehead and neck, “baby Yahoo” clearly written in italic with worn-out ink. He is chubby and clumsy in his attacks, but his moves are lethal and deadly. He throws punches as if he wants to overwhelm me with rush and adrenaline. The man they put in front of me is built like a wall. Bare chest, scars running across his skin, eyes filled with nothing but hunger for violence.

In my right hand, my phone vibrates non-stop. I crush the urge to answer the call and throw the device away, it hits the wall and falls to the floor. My parents have an important place in society, a place inherited from my father's family, a place my mother will never relinquish, a position I have never had the option of denying. To all the important people in San Diego, I am Gutemberg Ramsey, a promising lawyer with a penchant for dangerous sports, fast romances and a born activist. To the underprivileged part of West City, a place we call the Hill, I'm the right-hand man of the local drug dealer.

“And the Demonyo Gang is like the mafia, the bratva? Mob bosses, drugs, arms? All the bad stuff?” He nods. “Yep, all the bad stuff.” Wow. It feels like I’ve been dumped into a world where everything is the opposite of what I’ve known all my life. “And you’re okay with it?” I swallow hard, my throat dry from the lack of water. “Don’t you want to be anything else besides a criminal?” Xander thinks for a moment, then says, “I don’t see it as being a criminal. I belong to the Mafia family, where we kill for each other.”