Milwaukee Pasta Bandit Found Dead Novels & Stories

No matter his schedule, he always found time to whip up a cup of hot cocoa for me, then sat close by, watching as I took each sip. "Donna." The door tapped open, and one of my guys stepped in. "Got word from Italvia: Nolan Winston has kicked the bucket." I looked up. "How'd he go?" "Booze got the best of him, ended up a popsicle in some slum alley." He flicked a photo my way. "Caught it on the scene." I snagged the photo for a quick look. The man in the photo was huddled against a wall, covered in grime, with the telltale purple of a drunk's demise.

They wouldn’t suspect me of anything even if they saw me with the dead body. That was exactly how I’d gotten away with everything I’ve done up until this point. “Sooooo,” Enzo cleared his throat, “Who is in the back?” “Mila.” Enzo choked and sputtered on air, “Misa Mila?! The daughter of Erik Redrock?!” “That’s the one.” “How’d she die?” “I ripped her throat out.”

He was only 20, not much younger than he was, but a kid in so many ways. There was less traffic on the way back to Reading, and Weasel parked the van in the garage fifty minutes later. Jake got out, and Weasel followed him into the clubhouse. Jake walked through the clubhouse to the rooms in the back as the music died down, and conversations were halted. He could hear Weasel in the front room. “It was a fucking massacre, Bandit. He killed ten guys while I stood outside and kept watch.”

Belladonna. “The police think they are unrelated.” “They aren’t.” “No.” He slides another photo across the table, an elderly Italian man, half of his face is covered by a white sheet. Dead. “ he owned one of the largest weapon networks in southern Italy.” “When?” “Last night.” My gaze sharpens, “Last night?” Alessandro nods, “ he was found in his dining room,” “Security?” “Dead.” “Bodyguards?” “Dead.” “Wife?” “Alive.”

I asked if they had called the police. Luca said yes. The police were on their way. We sat in the dark. The doorbell rang. Luca answered. An officer stood there. He said they had found Marcus. Dead. In a ditch. His throat was cut. Luca asked who did it. The officer said they did not know. He left. Luca closed the door. He leaned against it. He said it was over. Eli asked if he was sure. Luca said Marcus could not hurt anyone anymore.

“Sir!” “What happened? You've been calling.” He asked, his hand on his waist. “Sir, Mikael was found dead this morning in his cell, decayed on the inside!” Noah's eyes widened, “what!?”

"I had a friend; Shasha. He founded Vatos Latos around the same time I started Banda Della. He noticed my success and he began to ask for collaboration. We did things in common and we conquered all our enemies. The day Shasha died I was suspected for his murder. I had gone to visit him and Russo saw it all. He was one of Shasha's special guards and he went by the name Marco. He and another guard were stationed by the door when I walked in. I spent quality time with Shasha. When I was ready to leave, he stood up to see me off while I led the way. I clicked the door open and my eyes shone in horror. Marco and the other guard were lying unconscious. One seemed dead already. I turned back in but

I didn't read any meaning to it and just went on with my food before I went over to the safe where my money was being kept. I had kept that many funds in the grave while waiting for the day to use them, but foolish Marcelo made me bring them out prematurely. “The popular mafia boss also called the Tiger of Italy was found dead this morning with a bullet lodged in his glabella. We are yet to know his killer, but we believe this is another clash between the mafia gangs. The police are working tirelessly to narrow down the suspects. Kindly stay tuned as we bring you more updates on the case”, the news came on and Bojana played it for me to see.

“I’ll keep you safe.” I laughed out loud. “You might be a badass, but do you know what those assholes in Philly did to my dad? You don’t stand a chance.” He pulled out a roll of bandages. “A lot of those assholes are dead. The De Lucas, Niccolo Marino, even Andre Bianchi.” My mouth fell open. How was that possible? So much had changed in just the last five months. “Who killed them?” I asked. “Killian Ricci.” He wound the bandages around my foot, clamped them, then gestured for the other one.

Adriano’s POV Three months. Carina and Chloe were gone. “Boss. Trouble.” Antonio burst into my office. His face was grim. “What trouble?” “The FBI found Richards’ body. Bottom of Lake Michigan.” My pen froze. Richards. The federal agent who tried to build a case against the Moretti family three years ago. I took care of him myself. “The body’s well-preserved,” Antonio continued. “He had a recording device on him. They found it.”