Novel & Cerita Novel Gangster

she scolded. “I'm sorry, Bianca,” I paced back and forth in my bedroom, worry gnawing my mind. I defended, “But you know I wouldn't have reached out to you if I didn't have a big problem.” She sighed, “So what's this problem about?” “I want to know about a gang that has a star tattooed on their neck,” I described some no further details to her and asked, “Who are they?” Bianca sucked her teeth thrice, “Bad news. They are from the White Star gang, the fourth largest gang in the country. Their leader, Duncan was just released from prison a few months ago after he raped his wife's mother.”

She was mad that Nikolai allowed his emotions to get in the way because the man was beginning to lose consciousness. I watched how she skillfully spoke to the man in Italian, triggering him when she talked about his secret wife and son he thought no one knew about. I observed the man and noticed a small tattoo on one of his fingers. Connecting the dot, I immediately knew the gang he was from. The raven gang. They operate in small groups and I remember how I pissed their leader some months earlier. Without wanting to waste any more time, I walked toward the man and dropped a grenade on his lap. Since he was sitting, that will make the work easier.

The newcomer was the most powerful gangster in Brownsville, Drake Hughes. He was big and tall, bearing a striking resemblance to a comedy character from an old movie. As a result, he had the nickname Big Silly Hughes when he first started out. However, as he continued to rise up the ranks, no one dared to mention that insulting nickname again.

He underestimated me. “I have information that will interest you boss.” He quickly said. He must’ve noticed my hand lingering on the gun beside me. “What makes you think I want to listen to you?” I raised my eyebrow. “Everyone in the underground is talking about it. A book.” He takes a deep breath, “There’s a book that has all the secrets of all the gangs in the city. Even that of El Alma.” The mere mention of the top mafia group in Chicago grabs my attention. Even though it was mostly non-existent and hidden, El Alma remained the biggest mafia group to ever exist. It’s been around since my father was still a boy.

"Perhaps you don't know me, I'm Clancy McCain, King of New York City" On a regular day, I'll begin raining down fire without discussing terms but Sofia was in there. I wouldn't want to hurt her in the process of trying to rescue her. It'll ruin my chance to win her over. The masked gangsters stared at themselves for a moment and then back to me. They didn't let down their weapons and that made my brows furrow. My title is always enough to send gangs trembling for fear. How dare they? Such disrespect. One of them stepped forward to say, "Unfortunately, we won't show you any respect, Mr. McCain. The Eastern gang is now under a new leadership"

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.

“Anyways, from there I took over the girls, bought them drugs, treated them a bit better, dressed them better. We became a menace, killing other pimps, taking their territory and girls. We climbed the ladder, got recruited into this gang. By fifteen I was a trusted soldier, still had my pickpocketing business and my pimp business. I felt like I was on top of the world, and was making enough money to get me, my boys and my girls two good apartments. We began dealing drugs, and took over so much territory. I didn’t care about dying. Every day I went out ready to make more money or die. I was ruthless, reckless, and hungry for success. I attacked many in the streets, wanting more and more terri

“The Corral is a Morfil spot. Nolan’s got a meeting with them.” I scowl as I hit the gas to zoom past an elderly lady who’s driving in the wrong lane on the highway. Drivers who can’t handle multilane roads really get under my skin. Seriously, just stay home or take another route. Get out of my way! “What’s The Corral?” It wasn’t mentioned in the file, but from what I know, the De Luca and Morfils aren’t exactly best buds. “An underground fight ring.” “Is Nolan trying to stir things up with them?” Maybe I’ve got it all wrong, and Nolan actually gets along with the Morfils. The crime scene in Sicily is like a tangled web of connections and old feuds. There’s still so much I need to figure out

Each step I took felt heavier under their scrutiny. “She’s stunning,” someone murmured. “Who is she?” another voice asked, laced with suspicion. Ivan’s grip tightened as he leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear. “Keep your head up, Lilah. Show them you’re not afraid.” I wasn’t sure if it was a command or reassurance, but I obeyed. My chin lifted, and I forced my legs to steady as we moved deeper into the crowd. Ivan greeted powerful men whose names I recognized only from whispered rumors. They were kings of their criminal empires, exuding an air of danger that was both alluring and terrifying. Among them was Nicolas Ricci, the Italian mafia boss, his sharp features and cold smirk m

Shayan's jaw was clenched tightly, his face a mask of cold determination. Though his expression remained blank, internally, he was like a volcano ready to erupt. The sight of the guns in the goons' hands didn't intimidate him; after all, he led a powerful gang himself.