Life Dealer 소설 & 이야기

Lewis retored and slience stepped in Edwardo Dennis,the real owner of the graveyard cartel. He's the most fierce drug lord in Germany The competition got too rough for him and on a shoot out with the police he lost his two legs. He got disabled and that alone required a new mafia. As at then Lewis was only 19 years of age. He got Lewis tried and before long, Lewis Flyheart was a badàss àss kicker But, Lewis did all that for a reason;A reason best known to them both

There was so much darkness in my past, so much that I didn't want to say. “I'm sorry, Charlotte,” Leo said quietly. I loved that he pulled me closer to him, sharing his strength with me and silently telling me he wasn't going to let me go. I clung to him, praying that he wouldn't let go. “When I say they were drug dealers, I don't mean that they sold some brownies with special butter. They ruined people's lives. They were suspected of several murders.”

They trembled on their knees and lowered their heads as if this would wash away their sins. “Go and take care of this!” Philip kicked the dealer on the shoulder and told him to resolve this problem at once. “Bring all the pills back to me without missing one or you’ll get it from me!” Philip was very angry that someone would replace genuine products with fake goods. “I really don’t know where the pills went. When I sell things, I don’t ask for the buyers' information. As long as they pay up, why should I ask questions?” The dealer’s name was Dickens. He was a punk who often hung out on the streets.

Sierra stood straighter, not backing down. “Miss Brightly, my son is a well sought after doctor, surely you understand my protectiveness.” She smiled sarcastically and Sierra’s jaw ticked. “Make no mistake, your son is not a commodity I wish to acquire.” Sierra steeled and threw back the amber liquid in her glass, but before she could leave she locked eyes with the older woman again “Oh and Mrs. Leek, it’s Doctor Sierra Brightly.” with those parting words she turned and walked straight out of the hall, party be damned.

"I cleaned up his mess back then, and now he’s trying to bite me back. Tell me, doesn’t someone like that deserve to be dealt with?" "He does, he does!" a few people echoed. Eric tilted his head back and downed his drink, wiping his mouth afterward. "You know how much I made that night?" He held up three fingers. "Thirty grand." He grinned. "One night’s work. That idiot was lying in the hospital, thinking it was a real robbery. Hahaha…" The bald man asked, "So what was in that package anyway? Was it worth that much?" Eric leaned in closer, lowering his voice, but I still caught a few words. "Parts… imported… stripped from a vehicle…"

asked Keanu as he leaned his head out of the car window. "Well... Sir, there's something that's bothering me. The biggest mafia in the city hasn't been found yet and someone in a certain area lost his life, most of them were dealers. So we assume that there is a lot of dealing going on in our cities, smuggling and yes we are trying to find out who the big mafia is," the police officer replied. Keanu nodded and he broke out in a cold sweat. Of course the mafia in question was the Leopold family who were now controlled by Marteen who made many dealers lose their lives not because they couldn't pay what Marteen demanded but simply because they were incompetent and Marteen hated incompetent peop

He looked like someone’s bored nephew, earbuds in, staring at his phone. To anyone else, he was just killing time. To me, he was working. I clocked the signs. Lose laces for quick movement, red thread on his hoodie sleeve, right pocket weighted, gum wrapper tucked behind the bench leg as a signal. Low-level dealer. Probably running half an ounce at a time. “Wait here,” I told Roth. “Why?” “Because you look like an unhinged cop when you talk.” I approached the dealer, handed off the cash with a nod, and walked away with a sealed bag in my pants pocket. Easy transaction. No words.

"I had such a good time tonight. This is your compensation." Her smile was bright and innocent. As if she hadn't been the one feeding me to those men. Damien walked away with her on his arm. She murmured as they left, "Being a dealer must be so hard. Lucky I was born into a good family." I stared down at the card in my hand, something lodged in my throat. Yes. Being a dealer is hard. But even this job — I'd gotten on my knees and begged for it. Because the money here came fast.

The deputy prosecutor's life, reduced to a series of catastrophic financial decisions and one very expensive mistress, glowed on the screen like a blueprint for destruction. His name was Alan Messner. Forty-three years old. Deputy prosecutor for the white-collar crime division of the county district attorney's office. Married, two children, a mortgage on a house he couldn't afford. He'd been leaking money for years—casinos first, then private poker games, then offshore betting sites that accepted cryptocurrency and asked no questions. The debts had crossed into six figures eighteen months ago. That was when the mistress appeared: a twenty-six-year-old paralegal from a neighboring jurisdictio

“Wow…that’s rich.” His eyes narrowed. “I’m the biggest drug dealer in this part of the world. I get shit done by rewarding those loyal to me and torturing those who aren’t. Cross me, and I’ll push you out of a goddamn window. Test me, and I’ll make you shit your pants. But I stay in my lane and mind my own business. I don’t touch innocent people. I don’t touch the police. Your family is the same way. The other guys who grow through that hotel have the same agenda. We live in the underworld and don’t touch anyone outside of it.” “And none of these men rape and traffic women? You think I’m stupid? I know that’s the biggest business out there—”