Pulp Fiction This Is A Robbery Novels & Stories

He was wrong. We were monsters. The whole lot of us in the mafia. The viciousness of our world had tarnished any trace of innocence we had in us, and the little that might've remained was completely wiped out by us being forced to carry out the very evil that defined our world. My finger wavered before the trigger of the glock I held to Mercutio's head, my jaw clenched tightly in anger. 'Gnev ubivaet vsyo luchshee v tebe,' my late mam's voice flitted through my mind. 'Anger doesn't burn the least in you. It burns the best.' I removed the pistol from Mercutio's forehead and tucked it into its holster. His frightened eyes watched my every movement raptly, skittering when I started to slowly ci

, He sighed slowly and added, “if you return the cargo, I can let go of this matter, otherwise…” . Not waiting for him to finish, Vyom seized his arm, gave him a good kick in the leg, and stabbed the broken bottle into his chest. It happened so quickly before Jonathan’s bodyguards could even take out their weapons from their pocket. Vyom had already dragged him away, gesturing at his bodyguards to look back. . They stood still, finding they were surrounded. After kicking him several feet away, Vyom took a hanky to wipe the blood from his hands. Then he informed one of his bodyguards. “Call the police….an armed robber broke into the house. He may be suspected of attempted murder!”

It went on for about fifteen minutes and the room got trashed. Suddenly a bunch of guys stormed in with guns and we figured it’s the cops right? Or security of some sort. Nah, it was a group of gang members, there to rob the place too. They took us in and were actually impressed. However, we had no clue about the safe, it was pretty high end for the times so I guess that’s why they didn’t go to the bank. It didn’t matter, they got it open. Gave us each a grand and told us to fuck off,” I said, laughing. I still had a scar on my arm from where Jude cut me, I got a tat over it that said, “Fort Knox.”

I mustered up the courage to peek out of my room, and what I saw matched my instincts. Four people were carrying guns; two of them wielding Micro Uzis and the other two holding Glock-19s. Two security guards lay lifeless, covered in blood. It was a brutally violent robbery. Everyone, including employees, visitors, and customers, was ordered to crouch down. The bank manager was forced to provide access to the money storage server. Luckily, I had anticipated this and had already contacted the police and locked the bank's servers. What surprised me was the use of conventional robbery methods in the twenty-first century. Usually, phishing or hacking methods were employed.

He groaned and rubbed his forehead. “Looks like you drank a lot?” Felix sensed something was wrong with him. “No, she drugged me” Patting down his pockets, he noticed his phone was gone, along with his wallet. “And she robbed me” “Where's my phone?” He looked around the bed.. “And my wallet?” He checked every pockets in his suits “My wallet is gone too. I've been robbed. That lady robbed me. She drugged me and she robbed me” “What? I thought you guys got along so quickly and were just having fun”

I land in my own goddamn puke. "Nice watch you’ve got there," he repeats, the same words from the bar. Only now, there’s no smirk. And then—I get it. I’m getting robbed. Fuck. The other guy—whose face I can’t see—laughs. "He looks loaded, boss." Mustache Guy nods. "Yes. Unfortunately, he disobeyed me." "What the fuck are you talking about?" I try to get up, but my head pounds like a jackhammer. "If you just shut up—"

“You know what this slut told me—?!” “It doesn’t matter. Fuck off.” “She said she didn’t have any guy in her life!” Dante visibly tensed and let go of Stefan. He stared blankly at Chiara and turned back to Stefan, suddenly punching him. Stefan staggered back and when he raised his head again, there was something clouding the madness once in his eyes—it was fear, and blood. “Get out. Now.” Stefan scoffed and quickly scurried out of the restaurant, s tremble in every step he took.

Inside, the air was cold, damp, and thick with the metallic tang of blood. The scene that greeted me was not unfamiliar. Two men, their faces swollen and bruised beyond recognition, were shackled to a support beam, their bodies slumped. The delivery men. The ones audacious enough to smuggle firearms and gold bars from my Treasury. My men, burly figures cloaked in shadows, stood nearby, their expressions grim, their knuckles still raw. Clearly, they had taken pleasure in their work.

I turned toward the screen, my breath caught in my chest, heart hammering so hard I could barely hear the rest. Tommy. Lola. Their faces flashed in my mind as clearly as if they were standing in front of me. Tommy was leaning on my bar, smirking like he owned the place. Lola’s laughter filled the air as she teased me about working too hard. The two of them walked out into the night together. That had been two months ago. Now they were gone. My throat closed as I grabbed the counter for balance. Robbery. That was what the police were saying. But who robs two people in a warehouse and leaves them dead? I shook my head.