Government Gangsters Book Review นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I gritted my teeth and mustered all the energy in the world to push Bennett away and thank God I did. "What do you mean by that?" He snapped and grabbed my arm again, a little more harsher and tighter. "I wouldn't disrespect me here Miss Stiles. This is not a place to cuss around. This isn't Seattle neither is this Los Angeles. You walked into my Mafia den and..." "Mafia?" My eyes widened and I blinked. "I thought it was a gang thing...but a Mafia?" I was not stupid neither was I foolish. I knew what the Mafia did. Well, not really did but the books I've read said a lot and they were real. They didn't play cards or run around in circles. They shot, tortured, kill and traffick women and child

If he’d known I was on a rampage, he wouldn’t have promised me a visit from his crew. He’d spat blood and promised that his death wouldn’t go unavenged. I’d snarled back that I wouldn’t expect any less. The fucker didn’t get another breath after that. He’d been a name we crossed off the hit list. One of the major players sniffing around the Grand Marlow hotel with connections to the syndicate. The syndicate wasn’t just an individual, but a disease spread across half the city, rotting it from the inside out. Trafficking, smuggling, blood money. If you cut off one limb, another would reach out.

But to them, my silence was as good as a confession. "Nothing to say now, huh?" Antonio weighed the bottle in his hand, a cruel smirk spreading across his face. "Pretty soon, we're going to strip you down and see what tattoos you're hiding. The mafia loves their crosses and their saints. I bet you're no different." In less than ten minutes, the roar of motorcycles echoed from beyond the yard. The front door flew open with a kick, and five thugs with dyed hair and tattooed sleeves barged in. "Boss, where's the guy?"

With a shaking voice, he blurted, “You can’t kill me. I know what I've done, but I’m willing to change. You can keep me as your rat against the Russians.” I kept my calm, despite the revelation. From the look on Nico’s face, the word Russians had mistakenly slipped out of his lips. At least now I knew he was working with the Russian Mafia, popularly known as the Bratva, and smuggling women and children. This was all part of that big fucking chain that had started twenty-four years ago. If I was right, I knew who Nico and the other rats had been working for. “A traitor’s always a fucking traitor, Nico. You would’ve said the same thing to that damned bratkis if this situation were to be revers

He was charming in a lethal wayb and every word he said made it harder to maintain the armor I’d built. The dinner went for hours. His associates exchanged stories about drug shipments and bodies dumped in canals like they were trading stock tips. I sipped water and listened. Every detail was ammunition. Every smile from Nikolai was a taunt. He had no idea I was the pin under the elephant's foot. Eventually the night advanced and everyone was starting to leave until I was left alone with him. He leaned back and stretched as if he hadn’t just spent hours surrounded by monsters. I tried to imagine the kind of man he would have been if he hadn't become a criminal but I came out blank. A crimina

I laughed at how Marco said those words so comically. “Then I said, I’m Marco. Who the hell are you? Gab was so surprised that he did not notice he was with a stranger this whole time, but he said thanks for helping him earlier. However, before we got to celebrate our newly built friendship. The people after me found Gab’s place and waited until I walked out of it. But because I wasn’t familiar with the area, I asked Gab to take me to where I could get a cab. I did not know danger was lurking outside Gab’s door when we walked out of his home. I remained cautious because I did not know who and where my enemies were for sure, but I noticed the surrounding was full of street gangsters and would

I feel my hands sweating with nervousness. I can hear the cars stopping in front of the house. Slowly I walk to the wall-size windows, and I peak out. I am curious to see my future dear husband. One thing is for sure. He should sleep with one eye open because I might kill him in his sleep and become a black widow. I have no problem with that. I close my eyes, shaking my head. I think my books have a bad influence on me. This would be a good plot. I make a mental note to write that story. A mafia story. Who knows. It might even be a best-selling story.

She noticed Gonzalo sitting at the one-seater sofa, with his favorite guns in front of him, like everybody else in the entire estate who's alert and carrying high-powered guns. "Those idiots are the Street Thugs. That gang was founded thirty years ago by one of the most notorious criminal New York has ever known. They are violent people involved in a lot of low-profile crime, they were never this bold." Darryl responded. "Someone gave them the balls to do this. Someone who will benefit when the city falls into chaos." Gonzalo stated. Darryl knows that look well. Gonzalo is thinking, figuring out who is responsible for the current state of the city in his mind.

Whoever that bastard was, he had a lot of things coming for him and he would regret it sooner or later. ELENA'S P.O.V The night had been short and it's a clear indication that the day was going to be much longer. Carolina had already left for work and as such, I was left alone in the room. Gathering up my files, a particular document caught my eye. It was a profile on Ciro and from all indication, I haven't read this part since I took the case. Having a thorough glance at it, I was amazed to discover that Ciro once spare headed a gang named the skull, who are presumed to be the most deadliest gangsters in the world. I could only imagine how everyone in his gang would act.

I furrow my brows and take a seat across from him in the plush leather chair. "That was fast," I mumble. Normally, I only had one major job every two weeks, but that wasn't the case this time. "Liam Bedford, he's one of our guys that handled our shipments." "He stole one point four million dollars' worth of our weapons and sold them to a small, east-side gang." He handed me the folder as he walked over to me. I took it from him and looked down at the contents. "You know what to do." I rise and nod, my gaze still fixed on the written words. His profile was presented, along with a photograph of himself. Featuring his personal life and all pertinent information about him, including recent trave