Godfather Book Pdf Novels & Stories

It was a thick, leather-bound book filled with names, dates, and the kind of secrets that kept men in power or put them in the ground. "The Black Book," I muttered, my fingers tracing the scarred leather. Every judge we owned, every cop on the payroll, every union boss who owed us a favor, it was all in here. I pulled it out, this was the leash. Without this, Remo was just a kid with a lot of buildings. With this, he was the god of Chicago. I walked over to a small wooden table and set the book down. Beside it lay a velvet box. I opened it to reveal a heavy gold signet ring, the Lombardi crest, worn smooth by my father and his father before him.

“I like this one. It tastes good.” He nods, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips, before pouring more wine into my glass. He raises it to his mouth, taking a slow sip. I watch, almost mesmerized, as the drink slides down his throat, his Adam's apple bobbing with the movement, making it jump just slightly. "What book are you reading?" His attention shifts to the novel in my hand, pulling me out of my thoughts. "The Billionaire's Unwanted Bride," I answer, my voice soft but clear.

“You have been silent for too long. Report.” I clasped my hands in my lap. “The Godfather’s men are operating in Chicago. I traced them to a location and after questioning, it was confirmed that they are indeed his people. They have training houses and women are being sold like cattle. This is a direct violation of bratva law and...” “Enough.” Another cut me off with a dismissive wave. “You're chasing ghosts. Every young bratva head thinks they see conspiracies. Do not waste our time, besides do you think we haven't heard about your own little shenanigans?”

He held it inches away from Marcelo's face. Marcelo's eyes widened when he saw what was written. ITALIAN MAFIA SYNDICATE. The contract. "What do you think you are doing?" he asked. Aurelio didn't say anything as he slowly brought his right hand to the front of the paper. His gun was positioned on the paper. He fired a bullet. Godfather Marcelo ducked before the bullet could hit him. The bullet tore clean through the contract, smoke curling from the scorched paper.

I flip open the first page, quickly scanning through the wordings on the cover. I freeze, my eyes quickly scanning through. "Blackstone. Sending this to you so you can always have the names of all your enemies right beside you. The Familia belongs to you now. Long live Luca Blackstone. Long live our Capo dei Capi. Your best buddy, Ricardo." The book slithers out of my hand and lands on the table with a harsh thud. No! No, it can't be. I know that name, Blackstone. I hate that name.

To be in a life of crime. “Gabe” - River says bringing me back from my deep thoughts. “Yes?” - I say “You are the most amazing thing that has ever happened in my life and I would be crazy to let you go” - she tells me and I close my eyes just listening to her words. “Can you repeat that?” - I ask her I know you are probably thinking how is it possible that someone like me, a mafia leader, a killer, is so insecure. I’ll explain. My father is to blame. You all know Raphael Lockwood. The Shark.

You could have shot that idiot and nothing would have happened. -You're a nasty, G- I murmured. –And on top of that, you don't help me with the book. I have to finish it the sooner the better. And I have to change the names of everyone, otherwise, everyone will know that it is an autobiography and we cannot make the existence of the mafia public.

There are always ways around that though, which is why I’m taking such precautions with Sadie. Luca led us to his library and sat behind a large desk. A maid immediately came in to offer me a drink which I declined. We sat down and I fished out the Greek document that was weighing so heavily on me. I handed it to Luca. He read it quietly, making faces and different grunts which I didn’t know how to interpret. “I never had the chance to meet you father, hard to miss his name in the course of business in the states. But … fucking hell. Who does this? And to his son,” he said, flicking the pages across the desk.

"Oh, Raven." “My father was more than a baker. He was part of all this. The mafia, the drugs, everything." I drew back, rubbing my eyes. "Marco told me my father took something. Formulas, routes, information worth billions. And he hid it somewhere." I remember the book, I found it in a crumpled mass in my jacket pocket. Trembling, I pulled it out. "My father's recipe book." I turned to the page with my sourdough starter on it and the weird scribbles. “These are not some recipes,” Marco said. He said they're codes. Maps. That my father had hidden everything in here.”

They still need to clean up the blood and the mess. "That was quick. I like it. You punished them, and I can still be in time to say goodnight to my wife and maybe have dinner with her. Good job, son. I wish your father were here to see you in action," The Godfather says. He and Dante are drinking whiskey. My brother is pale as he runs to the side of the boat and vomits. No one blames him. It is his first kill after all.