Narcos Book Novels & Stories

she said into the void, remembering the word coming out of her brother's mouth, which he had rarely said and never to refer to her as someone of flesh and blood, always as if she were a product of a fertile imagination or a part of the past. He clenched his fist in suppressed anger. Whatever was happening was beyond his brother's control, and there was no other way to explain his strange behavior. He slowly stood up and took out of his jacket the paper that Ciro had given him. He reached for the switch and turned on the light; with it off he wouldn't be able to see the notes. They were instructions for loading narcotics and other illegal trade devices with their respective clients, prices an

Chapter 7- Miguel walked around New York city, with an unconscious girl in his arms. There was a loud thunder followed by a thunder strike. The sky tuned pitch black, announcing to the whole world that it will soon start its heavy attack. Miguel couldn't believe that he was doing this, he has never done this for anyone before. He should have just left her all alone and continue with his own usual business but he couldn't bring himself to do that. She looked so vulnerable and lost, she was so innocent and a part of him wanted to shield her away from this dangerous world, strange right?

Xavier asked “Really late. I couldn’t leave her alone. I had to watch over her” “Yes you had to, considering the fact that you and Laura both decided to remove her baby without her consent. Did the guilt keep you up?” Xavier asked, still not looking up from his book “How did you know about that?” Jared asked “I find something amusing about this book. The man who was from a fairly rich background sells all his father has just to spite his father. That is not where it gets interesting. The most interesting part is that his father is an on old man on his death bed. He was literally dying and all his son could do was hate his father and he had carried that hate for his father around all his life

She was as dead inside now as she was back when she first went on her antidepressants at fourteen, when she had to accept Phoebe Tyson wasn't coming back, and her father could only afford schedule-five drugs prescribed by Dr Khan, instead of sending her to a padded white room where she could finger paint the whole day and jot down her feelings in a journal. "The net is closing in on the Ivanovs with their drug smuggling business in Rock Castle. The hammer is about to come down hard on the Nkosis for their cash in transit and hijacking stints and their business dealings in Moz," Elijah continued, trying to scare the daylights out of her. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't terrified, though

He said, dragging her up by the hair. Nico Valentino was a rogue wolf — one of the few who hadn’t lost control of their wolf side. Our pact with him was simple: he could stay in Seattle as long as he didn’t interfere with our business. He was also a well-known drug dealer, and these men were his lackeys. Nico sometimes permitted customers to buy on credit, but those who missed payments quickly learned just how ruthless he could be. This woman was one of them. “Please, don’t take me back to him. You know what he would do to me,” she pleaded, eyes wide.

The kind you’d get if you were being hired as a personal assistant for a mafia boss or a royal descendant. “This contains everything you need to know about Nico,” he said, and the weight of the book nearly tipped my wrist. “Allergies. Preferences. Triggers. Medical record summaries. Meal lists. His sleep schedule. The timetable for his therapy sessions.” He paused. “Read it. Today.” I flipped it open and immediately regretted everything. The first page alone had more information than a biology textbook. I didn’t even know humans could have this many ‘conditions.’ Or maybe Nico was just special in every possible difficult way.

Matteo and Lucas have been the only one checking up on me, the rest are busy with work but Matteo told me everyone will be around tomorrow, so we can talk. Annoyance and sadness runs through me. Is this really what Nico has come to? Reminding me of my druggie mother when I was young? I refuse to look after another addict, I’ve had enough of that and hust because he has money doesn’t mean he should abuse it and get himself in such a state. He grinds into me before sitting back and looking down at his jean covered cock as if he’s in shock, and I realize he can’t even get a boner that’s how messed up he is.

“Four cylinders. Inceptex. Experimental. Brand new. One dose erases the last year memories. Clean. No trace. No side effects if dosed correctly. Perfect for… cleaning up loose ends.” The lead thug laughed—pleased, ugly. “Exactly what we need. The kid’s seen too much. Knows too many faces. If he talks when he wakes up…” The seller opened the metal suitcase—Nico heard the latches snap, the soft clink of glass cylinders. “Cash upfront,” the seller said. “Half now, half on delivery of the body.” Coins? No—paper. Bills rustling. “Deal,” the lead thug said. Nico’s stomach dropped.

“The Grand Council is heading the investigation,someone has apparently given them hints and they are saying there are–narcotics.” My eyes widened and I tried to laugh it off, that's impossible. That's the wildest accusation in the book they could throw at us,but my laugh couldn't quit form into mirth because I knew,deep down in the pit of my stomach, that there wouldn't have been an investigation right now if the tip didn't hold weight. My steps hastened and I hurried to the office and almost fell back at the sight I saw. A swarm of journalists and police were littered across the room,there was clicking of cameras,showing off narcotics using the cameras and even reportage.

Josephine asks, clicking on another email. “There is” Emmett responds, taking the mouse and closing the current email. “There are four detectives in the narcotics division from what I could see. There may be more and there is a list of people Max had working for him from pharmacists to pharmaceutical distributors and drug dealers etc” he announces, clicking open a file with the names of those Maxwell was paying off. “Why?” Josephine questions, more to herself. “What was his motive?”