Pablo Escobar Son Book Novels & Stories

'Business is business,' Don Marco said. "Ah! My favorite son came!" Marco's jolly voice echoed inside that room as soon as Rome opened the door. He was an Italian man, roughly around seventy. His eyes were gray, and so was his hair. Between his fingers was a stick of his good old tobacco, Columbian. His other hand was steadily resting above his expensive jewelled cane, brought to him, of course, by their hidden family business, trafficking people and drugs. Escobar, the lawyer, was motionlessly looking out of the window at that time. Rome could only imagine what had already happened. There was a dried bloodstain on Escobar's expensive collar, and his nose looked a little misaligned than when

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.

Chapter 125 Carlos went to have a meet with one of the notorious sect leaders in the pack, Pablo. He was exiled because of his evil acts in the past. And most pack members were warned to not have any association with him. Pablo is a drug pusher, a human serial killer, when you mention evil that was the best name you could call him. Carlos moved gently to his chamber but was stopped by some of his men before he gave them a sign to let him in.