Lucky Luciano Right Hand Man Novels & Stories

Max said taking my hands, "Luciano is the lowest piece of shit to ever walk the earth...maybe Martinez was his one rival for that title. And he is never going to change. He is not right in the head and that will never be fixed. Got it?" I nodded. "Good," he said, "Then we both agree. That man needs to die." Just then, there were footsteps coming down the drive. "That's Leo," I whispered recognising the distinct rhythm and weight of his stride. I tried my best to wipe my hands on my bloody shirt before going to the door. It would probably be best if I could try and explain before he saw Luciano unconscious on the kitchen table. I opened it a few seconds before he would have done and put on a

he said with a serious tone. “Lucian said that he has nothing to do with the Mafia until his brother's death, right?” He suddenly asked me. “As far as I know, that's what everyone knows,” I replied with a serious tone. “I found out that Lucian had a lot of dealings with foreign mercenaries; he also had a lot of shares in some shady businesses before his brother's death, and a week before the attack on the Delgado family, he secretly moved a group of mercenaries into the country,” he said with a serious tone while I listened attentively.

He collapsed to one knee, coughing up a spray of crimson. "Luciano... I couldn't... they were already in the vents..." But Vane wasn't alone. Stepping out from behind him was a man I recognized from the head of the Council table—Marco Moretti, Luciano’s own cousin and the Underboss of the family. He wasn't bleeding. He looked pristine, his silver hair combed back, a suppressed submachine gun hanging casually from a tactical sling.

He(Luca) pulled the two Desert Eagle-Silencer behind him and grip them tight with his hands. They lined up in front of their vehicles and the middle-aged man in a white coat who appeared to be their leader marched forward to meet Luca Antonio. "You're not D'Angelo, are you?" Luca demanded with a straight look at him. "Oh, that's right, I'm Dante, his right-hand man. D'Angelo could not make it" The man responded coldly and Luca nodded slowly and bit his lower lip, "In other words, he wants me dead and my boss too"

Gary held his hands forward and exchanged handshakes with Novela. “I didn't know you were close with Mr. Lucian and his man; it's a surprise.” Gary asked, staring directly at Novela. Hahaha… I actually am not very close with him, but you can say we know each other. I'm sure you know that Lucian is the Mafia God's first man.” Novela responded with a firm voice. “I seem to find out late, but it's a good thing since you guys are here. Just enjoy the party; we'll be getting down to business in the next few minutes.” Gary spoke with a light smile on his face and walked off.

He blinks it away like a guilty thing. “You’ll never serve another family again,” he says quietly. “Not in this life.” He picks up a pistol from the table…..polished steel, engraved with the Bianchi crest. It gleams in the dim light like a holy relic. Luciano walks up to the first man, the one who begged the hardest. He forces him to his knees in front of the old stone wall. “Look at me,” Luciano orders. The man looks up, tears streaming down his face.

There’s no way Luciano would know where I am. “What’s going on?” Lia asked, gripping my hand tighter. I could feel her reluctance to let go. “We need to go…” Then, over his shoulder, I saw a tall figure with dark hair. His jacket was gone, but the white sleeves were rolled up to his upper arms, revealing tattoos I recognized well. The words didn’t come out as he approached us. I found myself getting up, pulling Emilia along with me as he drew near. “There you are, wife,” he said calmly, standing in front of me.

“We have a situation.” Within minutes, I had six men in my office, all of them poised and ready to act on my command. Just a few hours ago, I’d been tangled up in bed with the Bianchi princess between my knees, and now? “This ends tonight,” I said, laying out the blueprints to Giuseppe De Luca’s home on my desk. Joe Profaci, a close friend and allied boss whose territory in Philly rivaled the size of mine, had lost his house, his dog, and his wife last night in a fire. Joe and his two young daughters had been in New York at the time, thank God, but still.

A family-run enterprise. An older man dressed in a dark navy suit approached Roman, a wide grin on his face, with wrinkles around his eyes and mouth creasing against his dark olive skin. He stopped in front of Roman, and the light caught a gold-capped tooth on the side of his mouth. The two men reached out and clasped hands, and the older gentleman began speaking with Roman Lysander, the two of them immediately conversing in fluent, beautiful Italian.

Luciano was glad he was finally seeing the bigger picture, he thought of that too. “Exactly, I think so too, keep it low but keep an eye on Perez, Lily, and everyone who is associated with Perez,” Luciano ordered, he knew his men were good. “Yes, boss,” “And on Macko too, that bastard is no good, I won’t be surprised if he has a hand in whatever scheme Perez is up to,” Luciano added. His cousin was shameless and he would do anything to get what he want. “Yes boss, I understand,” “Good, you should go home and rest, I have a feeling we are going to be very busy after I get married,”