Government Gangsters Book Review Novels & Stories

“I haven’t killed a man in months.” Stewart gave me a knowing look. “I know you, Damien. And besides, this isn’t about murder—it’s about gangs. This neighborhood is clean. The people here are rich socialites. I’m not sure they wouldn’t like the idea of seeing guys with tattoos and guns walking around, disturbing their peace.” I rolled my eyes. “Fine.” I signed the papers, and Stewart took them with a satisfied nod. “Thank you,” he said, tucking them into his folder.

Taking a deep breath, she braces herself and opens the thick envelope left behind by her mother. Page after page, note after note, and Devyn realised that she didn’t know who her mother was at all. Eden Devynne was a popular blues and jazz singer in the 80s, mostly popular within the Italian underworld. She rubbed shoulders with the Cosa Nostra as if they were her family as well and was respected in the circles. No man touched her because she was the mistress of Luca Bianchi, the mob boss and Capo of the Chicago Outfit. But from what she has read, the Outfit had been destroyed by the Russians a few years ago. There were no heirs left, except for Devyn.

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:

He moved his eyeballs towards the left direction were he heard the sound come from, behind the bookshelf to be precise telling his comrades that someone was there and they nodded, taking the cue and with stealth, advanced to the bookshelf. Just as one of them was about to peer his head behind the bookshelf to see if anyone was hiding there, Fernando stuck out his gun and drove a bullet down the unfortunate man's forehead. They were three men. One on the floor, his body shaking vigorously as blood profusely emitted from the bullet hole and life slowly ebbed out of him. The other two became on guard with reckfulness. In a rapid and quick motion, Fernando used the butt of his rifle to hit the h

It seems like Eric also want to take over the other gangs? A deep hatred planted its seed deep in Mason’s heart. If Eric is the reason Keith and Vale are separated, he will be his enemy. It seems like Eric’s greedy nature had always been hidden all this year. He had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to trap more fish into his net. The Black River is 2nd most powerful gang in the country after the Black Rose. Combining them together was a powerful and dangerous combination. Mason rubbed his forehead. This doesn’t add up at all.

He didn’t recognize either of them. “Inside,” one said. “Now.” The main hall was eerily quiet. Oil paintings of dead men stared down at him as he moved through the house. Alex’s father, Vito Morano, is the head of the Morano crime syndicate. A man who had built an empire on fear, silence, and strategic bloodshed. Vito’s presence alone could chill a room, and tonight, the chill was absolute. He stood at the head of the long dining table, flanked by Dominic and two other capos. Their expressions were unreadable.

one of the gangsters yelped lightly. Annie reacted quickly and hid behind a truck. "Uhm, excuse me" Rose who just arrived sighted the six gangsters. Her heart skipped a bit. They look dangerous. "You are that bitch's sister?" the gangster with a scar eyed her ravaneously like a wolf on heat. "Yes" Rose gulped. "Hope you are a sweet little girl and didn't call the cop heh?" one of the gangsters with a malnourished body patted the pistol tucked in his belt.

He turned his gaze towards Max, and it was as if he carried the secrets of the world within his eyes, a knowledge that transcended their shared past. ** In the shadowy underworld of the city, Francisco was a name that sent shivers down spines. As the leader of the gangsters, he ruled with an iron fist, his reputation preceding him wherever he went. He was ruthless, callous, and unapologetic in his pursuit of power and control. Killing, drug dealing, property jacking, money heists, and drug supply were all part of his dark repertoire. Francisco's reach extended even to the corridors of power, where he subtly manipulated the government to serve his interests.

"You guys aren't successful businessmen, are you? I suspected from the start that you were a group of people who were being discussed everywhere. Right?" "What do you mean?" "You guys are gangsters, right?" Will laughed so hard that he made the people around him turn to him, Calista and Isabelle were also confused as to why Will was laughing like that. "Why are you laughing?" Calista asked, looking at him sharply. "You're wrong if you think we're gangsters, we're not that low if you want to know." "Well then, you guys are a bunch of mobsters." And another expression from Will was again seen by Calista, this time he did not laugh and further believed that they were indeed from the mafia group

“Mr. Elroy, why are there so many deadbeats in this world?” Elroy’s subordinates walked over with their eyes narrowed and their hands fiddling with their clubs. They assumed the mannerism of men with high morality and heroic spirit. These gangsters enjoyed bullying the weak and feared the powerful. They had never suffered any major blowback so they had always assumed that everyone who was not a big shot would fear them. They had strength in numbers and the power to destroy everything.