Pablo Escobar George Jung Novels & Stories

Who is it?", George asked putting on his top. "It's me, Mr. Escobar". "Shit", they both muttered. "Give me some minutes sir", George screamed as he put on his trousers. She was not also left out as she struggled to wear her clothes before Mr. Escobar comes in. He had earlier warned that none of them should have an intimate relationship with anyone here, that's how it is been done in the cooperate world. They both wore their clothes and George walked towards the door to open it up for Mr. Escobar. "Welcome sir", George greeted as he walked into the office. Mr. Escobar walked in and sat down on George's chair. "What took you so long to open the door?" he, asked facing George. "Nothin

And now that she was able to talk to him, Naomi's certain that Gonzalo is the reason why her connections are working and she's still in prison. ------------------------ Felix Zaragoza, the man responsible for more than half of the high profile assassinations, bombing, and the biggest gun smuggling and drug dealing in Spain. Felix is known in the underground world as the Boogeyman. No one who was stupid enough to cross him was able live to tell the tale. The plane from Spain arrived at the New York airport by noon. Gonzalo was there to welcome his cousin. Felix offered him a complete partnership. When Gonzalo's mother died, he decided to accept his uncle's offer to take offer his mother's mo

"Slow down father. I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." Of course I do. Father leans back so that his back is resting on the backrest of his seat. "Then someone else must've had access to it and the said person is processing it into torture drugs. They sold a lot to the Japanese and Koreans." No. I sold only to the Japanese. The Yakuza. No one else. My brows twitch the slightest bit. "The Koreans made a deal with the Russians and now both the Russian Godfather and the Colombian cartel have their hands on it."

I nodded, having not been surer in anything in my life. The man he was talking about was a man named Salvador Quintanilla—a cold, mean man who worked alongside him closely. He was basically in Pablo's place, as Pablo was a wanted man to both the U.S. and Colombia that needed to lay low. Little did Pablo know, that Salvador was behind Los Tombros killing him later on that year a day after his birthday; Salvador was a rat who wanted Pablo's position since the beginning. I watched it on the news when it happened. The bullet that killed Pablo went through his ear, but Salvador insisted that he killed himself before Los Tombros could do it.

I inquired. "Of course, you don't get compliments from such a handsome dude like me every day," he explained. "Well I didn't appreciate your compliment, take it back," I said "I'm afraid I won't be able to." It's a pleasure to meet you; my name is Pablo Escobar, and I used to work for the Black Mafia. How about you, baby?" He casually introduces himself and must be pleased to be a member of The Black Mafia. I wasn't surprised; from all indicators, I knew he was a member, which is why I was still observing his demeanour.

" Right! Pablo Escobar is one of his hidden friends. He met her at the martial arts studio of his butler, Emilio Escobar. He was his nephew and chose to work under his leadership rather than the Montecillo Empire. He heard her laugh so he frowned at her. "Stop laughing, Pablo!" “Fuck!” it was cheap and suddenly stopped the car. Pablo removed his facemask which grabbed Esteban's attention. He thought it would not be removed. Since working at FDSA, he always wears a facemask and hat. As far as he knows it is dust allergy. “Are you going to kill me?!” He gestured with his hand and pointed the way. “Drive.”

Jacob pleaded. Mr. George raised his eyebrows. "Why do I need to call him? We already know the result and it will be faxed to us any minute now," he said. "Tell him to change the result. Make it positive," Jacob ordered. direct laugh Mr. George laughed. . He put both his hands on his waist and then scratched his prickly nose. Mr. George was a Mestizo because his father is an American. "You're kidding, right?" The eyebrows of Mr. George met. His eyes narrowed and looked at Jacob closely. "What's on your mind?" he continued.

he replies regretfully. I am many things, but I am not a liar. I like to be honest, and when I am not honest, I like people to know it. However, George Banks is the exact opposite. He prefers people to believe in a version of himself that does not exist. He owns a multinational company, that's true, but I can't forget that he cooperates with drug trafficking in the country, perhaps more than Pablo Escobar himself did in his time. That's why we spend most of our time in different countries, doing different things; he lies, I don't.

He needs to find out who ordered them, before he turns the criminals over to the police. "You." He face George. "Protect your Master and call me if anything like this happen again. I'll leave my men to be added to your men." He said. "Yes Master. Thank you." At the Lopez's house. Jobel has been waiting for the end of the conversation between his father and his doctor friend inside his father's library. According to what he heard earlier, the doctor's friend is his father's omega ex-boyfriend. Only now did he realize that the photos of the man in his father's private room were none other than his ex-boyfriend, Ricky Sebastian.

"You’re clever, cara mia. I’ll give you that." Her stomach dropped. He stepped into the light, shadows dancing across his face. "Alonso Delgado never made it past his twentieth birthday. I did." She couldn’t breathe. "What?" He moved closer, until the poker nearly touched his chest. "I’m Esteban. Esteban Gallego." The name struck her like lightning. The Gallegos; rivals of the Delgados. Ruthless. Vicious. Responsible for the massacre in Medellin.